Monday and out of the habit

This weekend was good, I spent some time tabling for the internship on Friday, then did some homework and saw Alicia. We went to see a movie and caught up a bit. She is really trying to make some changes in her life after feeling trapped in a cycle for far too long. Its pretty inspiring.
Saturday I did some homework, I walked lake of the isles, I took a nap. Sunday I did some homework, I saw Illy, I spent far too long relaxing and watching youtube in bed. The assignments were fairly easy and didn't require much reflection. I spent too much time worrying, and too much time dreaming. The days are short and I spend half hiding in my bed. Maybe it is the push pull.

I have an easier week this week. Tuesday and Wednesday are full but the others each have just a few things. One big assignment due this weekend but requires group work. Some readings I would like to do. A mnspec event on Sunday -it would be nice to attend.
Next week I suppose I will get another little break.
Wed-weekend should be lots of homework time.
Each of my classes has a few more big assignments. I am sort of anxious about them as my investment in the work seems to be waning. The little assignments are fairly meaningless, but at least they are simple applications. The longer assignments that require thought, creativity or reflection are a little more difficult. Sometimes it is just the amount of hours. So many hours.

I am unsure if I should be satisfied or worried by life right now. I am not working, but it is hard for me to imagine working and being able to stay involved in the things I am doing. I am looking forward to winter break, hoping to be able to pick up a few more hours at WICC but also see people, do some creative stuff, maybe some spiritual stuff. 

I have abandoned my friends -at least the ones not involved in the current things. Its hard to make room when I am working most nights and in class or doing homework on the weekends.

It is hard to imagine fitting someone new in, but I still feel like I am missing out on a huge part of life. That being said, I don't have a crush on anyone. I have people I find attractive. Folks I enjoy spending time with. But no one that I feel especially called to. When Jesse messages me in the middle of the night I get excited, but I don't have any belief that it means anything. I'm still hung up on old loves? I look around and see some folks who make it seem easy. I look around and see a lot of folks in broken relationships. I look around and see a lot of lonely folks- who I am unfortunately not interested in. The independence breeds a stronger desire for independence, a set in the ways, all my ways in a set.  Maybe I need to leave this place again. 

Friends will leave, thats a given. I've been reflecting a lot on my commitments to people since Krystin  passed. What is it I am able to do. Why is it I feel obliged to do more. Why feel guilty or ashamed since I can't.  I've been thinking a lot about the ways I've tried to repay my debts, rather than ask for reconciliation or forgiveness. How with some people I grew angry, and rather than confront them I withdrew because I didn't feel convinced that it was my place to say, and didn't want to pay the price of walking them through it. Did they do that for me? Did they hold my hand through a lesson? Did I allow them to. Or with the ones that I have hurt, would it hurt them more to acknowledge or should I walk away so they don't have to be afraid? And if that costs me some price, is it deserved? my fate? 
And of karma? should I dislodge this burden or continue to bear it, find myself chained again in the next life.

It is hard to invest in this world right now. Easy to invest in the simple things, the daily connection at work, the occasional kind word, the spare dollar for a tip. But this world seems so lost, so corrupt, so bitter. I don't want to live that way. I want to push back. But the effort is so great. 

I keep getting distracted. Woke up too late. Curious about all the flashy new paint. Drawn and quartered that way 

After two full days of class, I am pretty exhausted. Ready for a break, a return to the other part of my life. A weird desire for there to be more of that, the counseling, because at least there I have the chance to make a difference.

Classes are going ok. I still wonder how people perceive me. I wonder if I seem standoffish, if it obvious that I am not impressed by most people. If I come off as a know it all, who can't put sentences together in the moment.
We do exercises in class, brainstorming activities, or role-plays, or little activities and sometimes we don't participate because we are bored, or aren't sure how to start, and other times we impress the Profs who treat us like we are not their equals... and that is the problem I think.
Their perspective is all off... maybe they will transition, maybe this is the first few weeks and then they will step back, but I question every move. I am vocal about it too. I risk pissing them off, and I don't like to piss people off, but if this year ends up feeling like last year I will be angry. And they should know why.

The rest of life? yeah right.

Nostalgia and love and forgiveness and loneliness

Its been rainy and gray out, so naturally I've gotten a little nostalgic- a little lonely. Last night I was listening to old music from years ago, rereading blogs looking for something of value. I was hit by these memories not necessarily of being with the people I've loved, but of thinking about them -constantly. Of letting my world be guided, or adjusted to someone else's pull.

Its funny how they call to me. I have nothing to share, nothing new, but I want to hear about their day, want to hear their voice, want them around. And of course, I want love and affection and partnership, even when I don't think they are the right people, I still recognize that they were once capable of making me feel like it was possible -so having their friendship is the next best thing and I desire it. 

And I do want something new of course, want to invest but also be invested in. Still I think its funny how right now I am not dwelling on the last time, or the done me wrong, or the fact that they are already taken, or the worries... I just want their attention, their time of day. Though I have nothing to say. 

I wonder what life would be like without Facebook, without the reminder that they exist, out there having fun, pushing through life, loving someone else. It's like that thing where you know being Amish would be better for you in the long run, but you choose Facebook -a semi knowledgeable separation over nothing. 

I don't think it helps that I have no crushes. A friend recently had to get over one, someone with chemistry, which makes it worse, because chemistry feels like the universe's way of saying this matters, your pull is real. But it wasn't, every time they hung out, she was disappointed, until eventually/inevitably giving up, but of course that doesn't keep you from longing (as I know years later)...

I will probably have one of those dreams tonight. Funny thing is, I'd welcome it, any little connection. 

This week has sucked

Las Ramblas

There are a few places on earth, I've always thought were magical,
Where the spirit of the place seemed to overwhelm the physical space so much that the laws of science and cynicism weren't needed, and didn't have to apply.

The adventure through the streets was so real, that you could feel the demons and the angels resting on your shoulders, clawing and soothing - as they pointed out the choices, undermined the patterns, animated the very stones, and nurtured your path forward- so that though not fated, felt perfectly predestined, as if the universe had prepared (all this time) to greet you.

The muses meet you there,
And until you feel them latch on and compel you to be- you don't recognize how perfectly meaningless reality had once seemed. 

And as you inhale the vapors rising from the street, your corneas flex just right in the midday sun, revealing every color in existence, and the perfectly sculpted comes to life, smiling just right -she waves you forward, and another plays the rhythm of your heartsong echoing off the old stone walls, and suddenly you are crying, suddenly beaming because you can't help but choose hope, can't recognize anything but the beauty of humanity and of creation. 
-that's what it means to wish a street would never end.

Between the Charlottesville thing, the terrorist attack in Barcelona, and a whole bunch of people's personal issues... it’s been a tough week. I've gotten to check in with lots of good people, that’s been great. But today I was sort of overwhelmed by the idea that this place I've always considered magical was the site of a tragedy. At noon while I was eating lunch with my brother they had it on the news, blood and broken bodies all over the street. It just felt like the perfect example of what so many things have felt like lately... that despite all the potential for good in the world, we have chosen the opposite. The good things are tarnished, we are going backward, the magic is gone. 

It’s hard to understand, you just can’t wrap your head around it, and it is easy to point the finger at one person (Trump for instance), but as a society we’ve chosen this. People talk about the weather or the stars aligning in the wrong way, it’s comforting to think that maybe this is all out of our hands, this is a context we can’t push back against, it is the way things are… but I don’t believe that. This is what happens when good people don’t plan ahead. Yesterday I had a migraine. I woke up too late, had the fan on high, wasn’t taking care of myself as best I could –but at a certain point in the evening as the storm/tornado built, I just couldn’t handle anything. I went home and hid under the sheet and hoped the meds would kick in. This is what we are all doing now…

I’m sort of scared to jump in, it feels like seeing the tsunami approaching and heading for it rather than away.

I haven’t been able to write or edit the last few days… just can’t make progress on the section where the world falls apart. Its too cheesy, too dramatic... it doesn't feel at all like what is actually happening.

Been thinking about self lately, what it means to be yourself, that collection of behaviors and traits, of reactions and sensations, of memories and reference points, the avenues carved out and solidified… but how solidified how concrete are they?

Each day I wake up, usually irritated that I can’t sleep in later, but also frustrated with myself that I have lost half the day. I get out of bed slowly, usually I check every single one of my social media accounts and watch a handful of youtube videos. I eat a quick bite and then jump into the shower. After I shower, it’s a rush to get out the door. The faster I get coffee the better, sometimes I eat lunch beforehand, sometimes I combine the two. Then I take a walk (if it’s not raining). Calhoun or Isles, depending on how much time I have left. Then I settle at a coffee shop and start to write or edit. After about 4 hours I need to move again, I get dinner or see a friend, then I go home and watch youtube or Netflix or occasionally read. Every once in a while, I can get myself to draw, lift some weights or do a bit more writing, but usually I just zone into a series of something and maybe check Instagram or tinder once or twice.  Every night when I try to go to sleep my mind is full of ideas-usually something that repeats over and over and keeps me up till the sun comes up, then I tell myself to get up early so that I can do something the next day that is different, capitalize on the time a bit more, but I ignore each alarm and repeat.

         When I am talking to people, I often run out of things to say. I’ve been aware of this for years now, and I am also well-aware that it isn’t that I don’t have opinions or am not caught up on various trends or the news, but I get bored with it, and the things I am really investing my time and energy into –are not things people are on the same page with. How many adults do you know who sleep in, go for a walk, drink coffee and play on their computer all day? Part of it is the privilege –I am aware that I have chosen this, I am aware that I am getting a sort of treat other people don’t have the opportunity for. Part of it is my neuroticism and weird interests and ideas. I want to explore topics that no one cares about, thought experiments, observations on life, other people have concrete stories, things that happened to them –to consider or complain about.  My big complaint in a day would be… I have a headache from waking up too late.

         I still have difficulty relating to people, part of it is these concrete day to day things, and part of it navigating the social swirl, what is appropriate? What do people need/want to hear? Where do my interests align with theirs and am I too set in my ways? 

         My ways… Sometimes when I read profiles on okcupid, I get excited and then start finding all the little things that would be an issue, one thing turns into another turns into another, and suddenly I am not excited, but disappointed –and usually I blame myself.

         I was talking to my Mom yesterday about “playing the game” and she remarked that for her it was easy to see the game and just get by, the sort of –do enough to pass the class thing, but I have never really operated that way with anything I thought was important. I’ve failed classes on the principle that I hadn’t learned the material so I didn’t deserve to pass. Even this last year, on two different occasions I purposely got an answer wrong because I wanted to contest the question –and I didn’t want them to say “Well you got it right, so it doesn’t matter.” It mattered so I sacrificed. My Mother usually gives the example of the advice I refused to take when I first graduated from college –she said I should cut my hair and take out my piercings and go find a nice suburban school so that I would have a steady income, but when I got a job at an alternative school that was a better fit, she realized it was a way better decision. She sees this side of me now as I seem unable or unwilling to settle into a traditional track in social work. Maybe it is privilege, maybe it is who I am. Still, it makes it difficult to operate in the world.

         But there are a lot of things about myself and the world that I don’t feel capable of fighting, and one of the reasons I am picky about friends and partners is that I want to be with someone who adds capacity to do so, I want help to be a better me, to further my interests, to push me to excel in the areas I care about, and have the follow through to change systems or behaviors I don’t like.

         But who is me? Am I just this set of ways or is there something else? In psychology, you read about these horror stories in which a person has a stroke or gets brain damage and wakes up a different person. On the lighter side of the same equation, a person gets their hormone imbalance fixed, gets on a good antidepressant or solves their sleep apnea problem and suddenly they become the best version of themselves, the one no one has seen in years because they were buried under a blanket –and yet they were convinced that was who they had become, and everyone around them thought so too.

         I see a lot of my friends and ex-lovers and recognize that they have become people I didn’t assume they would become, for better or worse, they found a way of being that wasn’t who they were (or who I thought they were) at the time. Others have turned into exactly the person they seemed to be, and you could argue they are stuck in their deep solidified grooves –and even if that is for the better, is that right? 

         And, isn’t it also the case, that a person can reinforce the same pattern for better and worse? For instance, the high achiever becomes more competitive, and productive but also more jealous, defensive and envious –-the two walls of the trench getting carved deeper.

         But of course, the self is also an illusion, just as a behavior can have two sides, so too can an experience, so can a personality… My Dad’s dog jumps on me and I recoil in anxiety because I’m already nervous, because I am already agitated. I knee the dog or pay it no mind, because “I don’t like dogs.” OR I am in a good mood, or I am absent minded and the dog comes up and a I pet it without thinking because it is there, and the dog likes me, and I go wash my hands and realize it wasn’t that bad even though I don’t NORMALLY like dogs.

         I don’t care about sports, but my friends are playing a pick-up game, so I join in. They want to go to the Twins game while they are in town and I go and enjoy myself. They want to go to a bar, and I love them so I don’t mind the noise or the awkwardness, and they don’t either. These contextual things suddenly change the whole dynamic and I become a different person based on them.

         Sometimes I wonder, if I could just BE a different person. If I could enjoy the things that I don’t regularly enjoy now, or have completely different interests, or be able to follow through on the things that are difficult for me to follow through on now. Could I wake up tomorrow and decide I am a musician. Not a person who had instruments and learns a song every other year only to forget it, but someone who plays, who loves to play, regardless of whether it means anything. Could I be an athlete? Or a yoga teacher? Could I be someone who likes salads? Who drives out of town every weekend to go hiking, because I enjoy it. And if not the overnight change, how long would I have to do it, in order to make it me? Mike the guy who goes cross country skiing? Mike the guy who does taxidermy. Mike the guy who meets new people, and doesn’t seek out the differences, and play a helping role, but enjoys their company regardless.

         In most Western faiths, there is this belief that with God’s help a person can change, they can become someone different than who they used to be –a coming to god moment, true submission etc. In most Eastern faiths, there is this idea that you are not necessarily you, just playing the role, and the true you is hidden somewhere else. This illusion is a good one, you tell yourself you don’t like dogs, and beer and salad, you think it so much that it becomes true, but tomorrow you could, and yesterday you could.

         Linear thinking makes me believe that these choices I am making now, to deepen the same pathways, the repetition of my behaviors and thoughts, that will be me. Who I am now, is who I will become, a more rich version of that in the most positive light, more stubborn in the negative. I know logically that this is a half-truth.

         Sometimes I deviate from my track, try a new slightly different version of the same, test the boundaries. Sometimes I think the adjustment will lead me down a new path… usually it doesn’t.  But maybe tomorrow?

I am sitting at Spyhouse and though I have the desire to write, I don't really want to write anything in my book. The story is still intriguing and I am sure I could do some editing, but the mental precision it requires doesn't sound fun right now.
Maybe I should go home and do nothing.
I walked Calhoun with my Dad this morning, and it is possible I will see Jared for a game tonight, or hang with some other folks. In general I have a half desire to do so. I want to see people, but I have been a little too social this week.
Last night I had this dream I was traveling. Been having a few of those recently, but specifically in this dream I was packing up my stuff and throwing things out to lighten the load. It seemed like I had begun a trip too hastily (as did everyone else), and at the first break I knew I needed to get rid of half of my shit. What does that mean?  Excess baggage...  I was also late in the dream, people were waiting for me, but when I got there I was more prepared than they were. I had cleaned up and packed well, whereas they had left trouble in their wake -an extra burden for the next person.

I was just reading the Sufi book, and they were describing the development of the soul, -the stages of it. The material stage of the senses, and what they called the feminine stage in which the inner sense of imagination and meaning come about, the recognition of meaning in things. So if my dream is describing my conscious understanding right now... I am preparing or taking the time to unburden myself so that I am better prepared.   Is that summer? Is that not having a job? is that reading and writing and trying to exercise? Is that reflecting on my past mistakes and trying to come to a better awareness of change? Reflecting on change, and trying to not assign weight to it?

On Monday I couldn't get myself out of bed. Sunday I hung out with K and T, feeling like there were expectations, though overall it was a good time. That night I found the barista online and found out she was married (somewhat ruining a crush), I think that was a big part of not being able to get out of bed, for what?  On Tuesday I spent the day recovering from Monday, but then had dinner with my Mom and Grant. Wednesday I volunteered and saw Alicia. Thursday I went and saw Jared's band.

So I guess there is a lot of in and out, processing and existing in a social context. But other than that and walking I haven't been very productive. I had a week or two where I was making some progress with the book, but now I have like 6 chapters I need to write or finish, and it seems difficult. Editing even more so because of the type of precision thinking it requires.
I've been watching a lot of netflix, and random shit... also drawing a lot more which is nice.
Haven't practiced Spanish at all - I think because it doesn't seem to have any purpose or context.
I really need to figure out some sort of path forward, what am I doing next summer? What am I doing for a job? What am I doing for a social life?


I think I am gonna go... maybe this air-conditioning is giving me a headache.