Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

I don't really know what I want to write yet. The day has been pretty good. Mostly chill, nothing going on. I have some slight anxiety about tomorrow (protest and performance with Vic). The weekend promises to be busy (therapy, a movie w/ Illy?, church parents, niece and nephew?). I finished the first book of the Expanse, and a few more chapters of the Tara Brach book. Not sure what to read next, but my White Fragility club will start soon, so maybe that. Watched some YOU last night and played some computer games. I think I have been lonely, and yet I am not necessarily wanting to reach out to a million folks. I have been chatting more with people who are far away than those nearby. Comfortable in my isolation?

I guess that processing yesterday really opened me up. I feel so much more hopeful and excited about the future, about possibilities. I am still tempted to fall back into old patterns, but I am also thinking about good futures that aren't filled with conflict and drama. That seem promising in a way that is rewarding for my spirit. I noticed last night that I didn't want to go to sleep at 7:30 pm and that felt like a good sign that maybe life was on the up and up. It kind of surprised me to realize how often I have felt like giving up the day early lately. 

I keep reading the energy worker's blog. Her way of seeing the world is so similar to mine. I read a few posts at a time and then feel inspired. I like that she is human, positive oriented, but aware that she is keeping herself from sinking. If I had met her instead of M, would have been a very different experience of dating an adoptee. I guess, this woman's writing is more similar to how I wish M could have been reflective and honest with herself. I can't say that I am regretful of the past few years, I am actually feeling very grateful for the gifts, and looking forward to the next cycle, because this one is complete, and I think I have learned the lesson (or at least got the taste I needed, to learn it again in a more meaningful way next time). Karma is a fun one. 

But I am still in a holding pattern. Waiting for the next job. Next partner. Next opportunity.
I was thinking that I might need to add something soon. My book club is going to be on Sundays. I don't really have anything on the weeknights, or at least nothing of a routine. 

Maybe I will start going to a meditation group, or join a gym or something. I was supposed to do a community ed class with Vic, but I forgot to sign us up on time. I should probably buy 25 lbs of clay and just show up at her house with some tools.  Today I saw two people watercoloring at this coffeeshop and I was quite envious. I am pretty sure they were a couple. I would love a partner that just wanted to sit with me, and watercolor. Or a partner that wanted to sit and write a song with me. Or for that matter a partner that wanted to write with me. Something creative, something inspiring. We could go back and forth editing, and adding, and loving. 

I wish I felt more inspired to write my book during this time of waiting. There are plenty of nights where I am thinking about it for hours, adding little things to the chapters, fleshing out the story. The daydreaming is a necessary part of the process (I did that for two years before I even started writing) but so is sitting down and typing, at least editing, and adding details.  I still haven't really figured out my process, but I know it takes multiple revisions for me to be satisfied with a chapter. So its like writing a chapter 3-5 times, and a book where there are something like 50-60 x 4 chapters... I need help staying on track. Someone to be excited when I am not feeling it. There is also this realization that not every paragraph is going to be exceptional. That at times the story needs to move without getting bogged down in the writing, but I don't know when those moments are. Sometimes when I read a scene I have read a millions times already -once the newness has worn off, I am super dissatisfied, feeling as if maybe I skipped over the heart of the scene just to get it on the page. I hate that. But would the reader even notice? I mean they didn't read it a million times. There are plenty of books that I have loved that have parts that drag. It's ok to drag a little - I guess I just hope that those details become important later. 

Today is another day when I don't know what I am doing later. No plans to see anyone. Probably need to get groceries. But other than that. Maybe its netflix and computer games. Seems like a waste of time. I get frustrated because I really like being home, but it is basically a certifiable truth that nothing new will occur if I am at home. I mean, I will be me, and do all the me things. But I won't be impacted by the outside world... so if I go home I have to resign myself to no exciting possibilities that night. Soon enough though, I will be working my ass off again. Better be grateful for this time off.  


What could I do tonight?