Some title goes here

So technically parts work would be what I just did, and then going back and soothing that part (which is a step I often forget).


on a different note I really like this quote from Ram Dass on unbearable compassion (bold and underline by me, italics in the original):

"There is a little statue of the Buddha and it has a little smile at the edge of its mouth and it is called the smile of unbearable compassion. Sounds like a paradox. The smile of unbearable compassion. It is the unbearable compassion. It is beyond bearing and if you were somebody you couldn’t bear it, but you are the universe and that is what you are. You are all of that and it is that balance inside yourself. The smile of unbearable compassion. And that ability to embrace the suffering into yourself, to just keep taking it in and taking it in and look towards it instead of away from it, and look towards it and then take the way in which it reacts in you and keep doing that delicate balancing number, to balance that you still feel the humanity and at the same moment you allow, you don’t sit around judging God like what have you done to me I am a good guy what are you doing this to me for. You don’t apply your rational criteria to the universe because the way karma works is not understandable by your rational mind since your rational mind is a product of karma and a system cannot understand something that is meta to itself. It is a logical impossibility. You don’t hear the full universe.

Here’s where the faith comes and the faith is deepened through your own practices, through your own direct experiences. It’s not belief that someone hands you. It is faith that comes from your own direct experiences. So you learn to keep your heart open in hell. Finally."

More parts work

This all feels familiar so I am sure I've written most of it before.

I had supervision, we were exploring why I get angry at parents. 
One of the thoughts I have rather often when I am in this state goes something like: "Why do we expect children to be able to do things that parents (adults) can't?" 
My supervisor asked where that came from, and since I have been thinking about child self, I recognized that there is both a value and a wound there -I don't remember the question she asked, but I responded with that piece of wanting someone to play with me (and not getting reassured), and having to take care of others when I should have just been a kid (and being praised for it).

I asked my mom when Steve broke his arm the first time, (amongst a larger conversation about how my personality from birth has been like this) she said it was probably under 2, meaning I was 3-4. I have a flash image of the backyard monkey bars. My adult self sees my brother breaking his arm and no one being able to fix it. My 3-4 year old self?  did I see him in pain? Broken? Dead? And why... why didn't anyone catch him if he is so fragile?  (My mom reassures me that they were right there, but he was super quick -and I know this from my own experience of trying to get him to stop running into the street). I don't know what happened. What I do know is I spent my childhood worried that my impulsive brother would hurt himself and needed protecting. 




When I was very young, I got special alone time with my parents when I was sick or scared.

Throughout my life they have done a million special things for me: trips, parties, theater and art classes, music lessons, comic book stores, coming to classes. Many of my things were alone. I think I would often get jealous when I had to share it with my brothers or even my friends. I don't think I ever told my parents that. I am also struck by how often they allowed me to do things or supported me in doing things while saying I was responsible or mature enough (suggesting others wouldn't be at my age).

By peer standards I was not mature. My friends were more "mature" than me up until 13 even by my standards, but I have always been the cautious one. They wanted to play sports and they did tricks on their bikes and skateboards, and it was non stop cuts and bruises. I think I remember every single wipe out I have had.  But my friends also seemed to desire to fit in way sooner than I did,  they cared about boy fashions and knew the "cool" music, and blah blah blah. All I wanted to do was play toys and video games with them but was pressured into performing the boy role. It wasn't until I started flourishing as the caretaker role that I felt I had a place (other than tag-along), and often I still don't feel comfortable in social situations.


There are a bunch of incidents in my memory where my own or someone else's "fun" is paired with potential tragedy. And I think it really strongly reinforced my "you have to be the responsible one" mentality that I am projecting on the parents. 

It might have been 4th or 5th grade, Luke was one of the only friends who would still play make-believe games with me  He fell off the slide at the playground across the street, I saw but couldn't stop him, watched him slip and then nothing. Was he dead? I heard the worst scream I have ever heard. I knew it was my fault for not warning him. 

Our first real party, Pete almost accidentally broke up with his girl friend and choked on his own vomit in the middle of the night, because he drank too much to move on his own. Once, twice. I rushed across the room to save him. What if I had been asleep instead of worrying? What if I had gone home because I was the only sober person. My oldest and best friend could have died because everyone wanted to have fun and there was no one responsible. My friends driving drunk. My friends doing drugs. My friends getting locked up. My friends becoming addicts. I became the sober cab.

It Italy, I lied and covered for my friend's drinking. On numerous occasions people came to me asking for help. 

Gambling and drinking and smoking are fun. My friends and brothers became gambling addicts. Two of my friend's parents lost their houses due to their addictions. Another friend lost his father. Several of my friends are now alcoholics or addicted to weed, have lost jobs, relationships, etc. 

Sex is fun, at least 90 % of my sexual acting out was done before I was 16 and I hurt or may have hurt a bunch of people because I was acting on my "fun" and not being responsible. I still blame myself for all of this, and even though it is the same shame/guilt that keeps me from talking about it today -that I had then, I sort of wish someone had stepped in and talked to me/helped me not act out and find healthier alternatives. The thought that I have traumatized people is literally my nightmare, and yet, I have to acknowledge that I have and probably will again unintentionally. 

Nicki my first girlfriend basically had a panic attack because on a fun whim we drove to Winnipeg and she forgot her medicine. I didn't fully understand how something so good, suddenly felt nightmarish, and how little control I had over it.

Even recently, my sunburn (or even teaching) in Guatemala... I was trying to be adventurous and had to cancel my trip -two of the most shameful things I have done in my adult life. 

Baby making, on a whim thinking I was open enough to the universe to be a donor... realized I wasn't, felt shameful for backing out -worrying that I had not only disappointed them but hurt them.



Fun?

Fun is going to a concert by yourself and rocking the fuck out. Fun gets ruined when you suddenly start seeing your students at the concerts and they are underage drinking. Or gets ruined when you take your friend, brother or girlfriend and suddenly have to be responsible for getting them home safely. 

Fun is traveling -because you can be yourself without taking care of anyone else.

Fun is conversation, brainstorming and problem solving, cooking, movies, board games, toys, theater, listening to music, art, video games, reading, you either do it alone, or in a safe environment. 

Fun can be competition, within reason, and safely. It doesn't impose on anyone, and no one gets hurt. 
Fun is laughter, not at someone's expense. It's being imaginative, it's playing off each other. 
Fun is sex, when you trust them and they trust you, freedom and exploration and letting go. 
Fun is seeing people for who they are, when they can let you in a bit. 
Fun is a walk, not too fast, not too slow. Seeing and experiencing the surroundings. 

What else is fun?

Children are fun, they are amazing *and super exhausting, but they are fun when there are healthy people taking responsibility for them. Making sure they feel secure, making sure they can own their own experience and don't have to perform a role they don't understand for adults who refuse to take their own stuff seriously. Children are fun when they get to be themselves, and know they are loved for it.

Adults are fun that way too.

Blind Melon Walk

Along with just being a beautiful song, some really wise human words



"And under a sun that's seen it all before

My feet are so cold
And i can't believe that i have to bang my head against this wall again,
But the blows they have just a little more space in-between them,
Gonna take a breath and try again"

Yesterday I got really angry at humans:

Adults who shirk their responsibilities, and miss opportunities because they are afraid.

people who are trapped in their emotional manipulations, their drama

parents who reject their kids and blame everyone else

The suffering is so unbearable sometimes. The ache in my back. The fire in my stomach. The pressing of my eyebrows together so tight that I get a headache.  

None of this is my stuff to carry. I have to remind myself of that. I am doing it because I think it is easier than just acknowledging the truth. People are in pain, I am hurting because I see so clearly, I can't do more for them. Systems reset to homeostasis. It's too early to see if it is a new one. You have to sit with the pain, acknowledge it, thank it, let it go. 

There are so many reasons this stuff provokes suffering in me. It isn't all them. -Even the conversation last night, as I tried to avoid the hurt, my mom said she didn't understand the amount of inner turmoil I was experiencing as a child. Didn't know my mind was on fire. I become this child in a world of people who don't experience my pain, and when I see it in these kids, or in grown adults (EG why mike shouldn't date), I can't stand to see them suffer alone. But me joining them doesn't help if I can't step away. 

Today I take a breath and try again, not to change or control, but to see, to acknowledge, to thank, to let go.

Parts work

I was thinking a lot about what I wrote before, and how so many of my current feelings and behaviors right now were learned in early childhood.

Did some brainstorming:

This is really around age 4-5. I was thinking about the story I told myself (in red), which had to do with not fitting in, or not being enough, or being too much. It was that "motor mike" who talks too much at daycare, and has too many questions. Is too sensitive. I remember wanting to fit in, and so I told myself I had to give up parts of myself in order to be part of the group.

In blue was my behaviors to remain sane and myself (though this went on from 4 till now). I remember playing alone a lot, drawing for hours, acting out stuff on the playground and talking to myself. I couldn't fit in, and my thoughts and drawings were too imaginative or weird (like how no one likes my writing and art).

What I wanted was interest in me (purple), wanted people to want to play with me, peers, parents, cousins. I wanted to be special to someone but I was lost instead. I wanted touch, intimacy, connection. To be seen and adored and loved.

In orange was how others viewed me. I was actually seen and rewarded for being mature, for being smart and creative, and relatively self-sufficient (minus food issues). At my day care I was one of the only kids that got to stay up while the others napped. I sat alone and colored for a half an hour or an hour, I was not a nuisance. Eventually other kids joined me, and I was instructed to be the leader and keep the others quiet.

In light green was the compromised position of my strengths and how others saw me. This piece of... "ok, if I can't be enough by being me, then I can be helpful to people, and they will see me as good enough." I will get my needs met because I am helpful to them.



----
Recently I was feeling really sensitive and probably too lonely, and I was taking on too much of my clients burdens, judging myself by their "success."

My supervisor said I needed to reflect on that. My life is pretty much this story from about 4 or 5 on... right? Like you can already see it by that situation in preschool?

Where do you get your dopamine

I woke up late. 
So coffee was late.
So my mood isn't normal. 
Trying to keep a headache from hitting.
Harder to stifle internal conflict and the desire to drama it up.
Sometimes I can't tell the difference between constructive reflection and drama. Usually I think that when I start to blame or argue, that's drama. Today it feels more like recognizing the difficulties. I will come back to that.

I only have like 4-5 things to do today, and I am making progress, but there is always a worry about getting stuff done on time even when I have like 8-10 hours to do something that shouldn't take more than a couple. When you don't have children you have all the time, and that is the problem. I don't have motivation to do anything, and I have no deadlines, or alternate things to hold me accountable. So I can sit and watch youtube for 4 hours and it doesn't matter at all -which isn't good. 

This got me on the idea of dopamine, which is both the "pleasure" drug -but really more like the motivation drug. What do I have motivation for?

Yesterday in therapy my therapist shared that he felt at his age he didn't take a lot of pleasure in most things, but the things he did take pleasure in, he wanted more of -and during quarantine they were unavailable. I went to target yesterday and tried to find something that would give me pleasure, and ended up with cinnamon rolls... there just wasn't anything worth my time to buy. Why decorate my home or office? Why buy extra junk? This morning I was considering the same thing as I washed dishes. Why buy more? Why buy better? Who am I trying to impress?

My mom asked me over for dinner yesterday and I declined. I felt like the effort wouldn't be worth the pay off- or rather, some part of it wouldn't. I knew that I would have a fine time, but ultimately would go home and feel alone, and so it didn't seem worth it to spend a few hours there and then go home to my "unsuccessful" life of loneliness. That was a strange thing to recognize, that I knew I would have fun, but that because I would face a crash after, it wasn't worth it to me.  I was considering that last night on a walk, that I am in this place where I am being stingy with my effort, and looking for a sustainable return.

When I first met M, I recognized I got a dopamine kick when I was around her. I wanted to be helpful. I wanted to make excuses to see her. I recognized at the time that she didn't feel the same way about me, or that it was to a far lesser extent, and that continued throughout our relationship. I rationalized that it was because she had more things going on, more competition for her time, energy, motivation, and all of that was true, but when it came down to it, if we aren't motivated to extend our energy towards someone (or do so only when it is so that they can fulfill some other personal need), it will never work out.  I think this is the thing I am realizing about being helpful. It makes people feel good and appreciated, but it doesn't make them want to extend their energy. 
I was doing laundry and I realized I am still mad at her for pulling away my fix, my reason to get up in the morning, my reason to try to impress. I was addicted to the dopamine I got from trying to please her, make her feel better, "help her," and yet, throughout our relationship I was aware of this tendency. I kept trying to figure out the right balance. Kept trying to get her to step up by being honest about where I was at and asking her to be honest too. There was an assumption on my part that we were on the same page because we had discussed stuff, and I expected her to follow through if she  had "agreed."  But I guess, it's kind of like how we talk about consent these days, if a person doesn't enthusiastically consent, then maybe they haven't. That was our whole relationship, two people saying things, hoping the other person understood.  -One of the assumptions I made was that we were working towards something. That we could acknowledge that she was stressed and that I would be on hold in some ways until the stress declined, then she would naturally put in more effort. But the opposite happened. She felt better. She felt the need to be free of me. 
Suddenly my fix was gone, along with all the other things. 

I had this thought occur to me that hit me oddly in the feels, made my body tingle in a weird way.
That so much of my dopamine comes from seeing others feel pleasure or growth. So much of my personal pleasure feels meaningless without the connection, to the extent that I have no desire to buy stuff, or travel on my own anymore, but if I was in love, I would want to. Would want to hear about and see the pleasure they take in the material, and in their connections, in their relationships, in their purpose. I am like the ultimate voyeur/succubus these days. I love watching people on  the phone while they walk around the lake, suddenly they burst into a smile, and I smile. I took so much pleasure in watching M just live her daily life, watching her make decisions, watching her run around, watching her worry, watching her connect. In many ways, the only time I saw her do that continually was with her daughter, she adored her openly. Thats how I get with people. Like I am their parent. I get my delight through them, but then want them to take delight in me too. 
Why...
There are specific places where this isn't true, and it makes me want to look for the factors... for instance is this just a safety thing? I don't feel the need to give when I am low, or hurt or scared, and I take far less pleasure in what other people are experiencing. Is it a boredom thing, like I have already exhausted my options alone and feel like they are ineffective in meeting my needs. It is a maturity thing -like how most parents and grandparents delight in children rather than their own stuff? What are the areas when it is absolutely not true...  Sex, I still feel my own selfish desires. Candy?  Fear/anxiety, I still desire food I can eat, and basic comfort, not being uneasy or put on the spot...
I lose all desire to please when I am scared, unless the fear is motivating me to please or appease. 

I dunno... seems like something to keep reflecting on. Self interest.
I am still struggling with life in the big picture. What am I personally doing anything for? Why do I take on the same roles over and over. 
I have spent a long time trying to figure out who I am and what I am about in this life, and sometimes the answers feel right. Sometimes I feel purposeful. Like at work lately. 
I have taken on these roles in social and professional ways. I have dedicated myself to growing and supporting others, but I continue to find myself in this position where I burn myself out because there isn't enough left over for me. I don't value myself enough to give it to myself. And others don't value me enough to assure it. It's not a great system. People praise me left and right, and its nice for my ego, but ultimately meaningless. "Mike you are doing a good job, you are really good at this." Ok, but what about the rest of my life... what about the fact that I can't seem to find meaningfulness in other stuff? In materials? In relationships (sometimes)?

People have been encouraging me to take on more things. My mom wants me to take over aspects of her business, especially the speaking gigs and workshops. She sees my gifts and says, why not? M used to do the same, she always wondered why I wasn't seeing clients on the side or volunteering, and the answer is kind of the same, why extend myself even further? How would I benefit? How would it feed me?  I can learn all about myself in the process, and help others,  but where is it leading to feeding me- to connection and fulfillment? 
Next week I may be starting one of these, and I am afraid, but more I am wondering why I should perform this role.

It feels like I am in this position where I can maintain, and slowly lose out...drip drop drip away. Or alternatively I jump into something and burn myself out. But either way... for what?
What sustains this "helping" motivation is often feeling connected and seeing growth. But I am feeling like I can't grow in the ways I want/need to, and when I do so in ways that overly invest in other's growth or their pleasure, it doesn't work out. So how is this helpful to me? 

Anyway... I guess this is just more complaining in the form of reflection. I want to learn a lesson here, to tell myself all of this is worth it. Maybe there is no lesson. Maybe this is all ego. Maybe I will be in a hospital bed by the end of the week. Maybe I will have 10 speaking gigs I have to do from my lonely apartment.

*sometimes I wonder if we have roles on this earth, and we are fulfilling them, and thus nothing more can be accomplished or should be expected. I was walking through a park yesterday (artificial environment) but everything seemed so perfectly balanced. Life in synch. It wasn't one bird totally selfishly absorbed in itself, it wasn't one tree thinking it was the greatest tree and standing above the rest, it wasn't one mole rat criticizing itself, and one goose thinking about how it's last relationship didn't work out, it was just the collective harmony of everything buzzing and zagging, and flowing, and standing still. And in its collective form, it was all that needed to be. Nothing more or less. It was, as it is, and it was enough. I walked through the park and for a moment thought that maybe I was exactly where I was supposed to be too, nothing more or less. And it felt good to let the ego go, and be. The radiohead song comes to mind.  

I keep thinking about this kind of stuff because I desire moving forward. But maybe the point is to be still, and just enjoy what is. 

Les Yeux Noirs "Liebkeit (La Tendresse)" | Archive INA

Been listening to a lot of this lately. No idea what he is saying.

** Oh just found the original french lyrics

SUPER FITTING FOR THE CURRENT TIMES

Ya

I had therapy this morning.
It was clear my therapist was in a similar spot to myself.
I wouldn't say we did any deep therapeutic work, just talked around the edges of what life looks like right now. Kind of disappointing and yet I made the next appointment even sooner rather than wait another three weeks.

My mom invited me to dinner. I didn't want to go. I knew it would be good for me, but just didn't want to deal.

I went grocery shopping and had memories.

I saw a former student, we passed without acknowledging or maybe he didn't see me.

I have work to do. and laundry to do. But part of me wants to go outside for another walk.

It was supposed to rain this  afternoon so I went for a walk this morning.


I took a nap and had a dream. In the dream I way in bed with a love, and it felt right and wrong at the same time. I kept kissing parts of her clothed body. We were in an unfamiliar house. At some point the tension built, and she asked me or I asked her what next?  And she said she didn't need any help right now, and I said I was never interested in being helpful, I was there for love. And she made a face like that wasn't going to happen. And I said, yup, that's why I am leaving. And then I left.

I woke up, and missed being in love. Even when the other person didn't love me back, I miss it.
But the dream was also true. I can be helpful.  But that's not what I wanted.

Lake walk, time, truth

I was walking around the lake today struggling to keep from thinking about my ex, or more specifically what I would say to her if I saw her and she was with someone. It wasn't arguing. It wasn't preparing for a battle. It was about how to say something meaningful without saying anything meaningful. How to say, I wish you well (because I love you), you hurt me and I have put in the work to heal and always will, and I wish you would too... without saying any of that.

The wind was strong this morning. It whipped across the lake and chilled my hands. But the blue sky was soooo blue. And it made the water look beautiful. The shadows of birds, and trees, and clouds, and the rippling waves, all decorating the water with a gradation of blue.

I hadn't had enough coffee. So it was hard to keep my mind from the drama. There was also just something real about the loneliness this morning. That reality of seeing fathers with strollers, and fathers with little ones running beside them. Of young couples holding hands on a Sunday morning walk. Of older folks practiced in their decades together.  The longing was just so profound that I couldn't keep from wanting it. I am so envious all the time.

The trees are just budding. They look brighter than the gray skeletons of winter, but they are not yet ripe. The foliage is not blossoming. So the trunks are elephant skin, and the branches are stretching from a nap, and the little fingers are yellow and golden brown against the blue sky.

I want the right fit. No more of this karmic torturous bullshit. No more of this drama. I want someone who nourishes me, not because I am choosing to learn a lesson, but because they are active in engaging me. These last ten years or so... I have grown so much, but very few have stuck with me to really invest in me. And I suppose I pushed many away. And ran away too. So full disclosure: this reality is my creation.

I saw a loon reveal its long beak, and then dip beneath the water. Vanished. I continued my steps, subconsciously counting without numbers, and side glanced to see when it would return. 5 steps, 10, 20, 100, I spotted a different loon a far way off, and countered the magical thought, counted another 15 steps and saw our guy return. No flourish, no spectacle. Silhouette on the water.

Little memories would come back to me as I walked. Some lovely. Some painful. Some years ago. Some recent. Time is so strange. Even when we dwell, we are so present centric, totally forgetting how quickly things change. I was a teacher once. I was a barista. I was a student. I have traveled the world. I have slept in strange spaces. I have been a total asshole. I have been a nurturer. I have guided, and I have followed. The wholeness of life is so easy to forget. And even easier to forget are the possibilities, all of this has been foretold, but none of it imagined just like this. If you told me a dozen years from now I'd be anything at all, I'd not be able to fathom it despite the brilliance of my imagination, the depths of experience are un-summonable.

A red streaked wood duck brilliantly colored, gliding next to his partner. I stopped in awe. I am not sure I have ever seen one in person. Someone walked by and commented as if it was a passable moment. Paint streaks, white, red, blue, black, green, purple, this was artwork floating along. And not a moment later, the masterpiece had lost its brilliance though the colors remained, I'd moved on.

When I was first falling in love with my ex, I had panic attacks. I knew that my attachment to her was dangerous, it felt poisonous, it felt like a drug. I wanted to be around her all the time, and I was always insecure.  Red flags galore, and I wrote that it felt like Judas knowing that what he was doing was not only the betrayal of his friend, his g-d, his values, but also knowing it was the betrayal of himself. That he was being asked to drink the poison, and felt compelled regardless of his choice.
And I chose it. There were weeks, even months when things felt good, felt headed in the "right" direction. I was able to swallow my fears and insecurities and just exist in awe. And then, there were moments of little heartbreaks, ripping seams, unnameable bewilderment.

I was walking the lake in the other direction than my normal route and as I walked this different perspective, I was thinking about how one way to look at our journey is to consider that the universe(or G-d) is experiencing itself through us. My heart break, my longing, my loneliness, my angst, these are necessary to experience, not because I will learn, not because they lead to anything, but because they can be experienced. So they must be.

It is human to believe that there should be some reward for our suffering, but it is also human to experience death and pain. I think about my pettiness, my longing, and consider how there are people starving to death, dying alone, dying in war, being tortured. This existence is really quite something. Impossible to take it all in.

My heart swells and aches as I walk around the lake. I often focus on the music I am listening to, and smile at passerbys dreamily. Today I did so, while crying. I was thinking of all the suffering I take in from the people I meet, and wonder why I connect so easily to their longing, and not their triumphs.
How when people do well, I want to say "good for you" and be genuine, but more often than not I want to warn them about the impending fall.

When I got home, I was listening to Aby Wolf's "Alone" a song I used to send to others and probably bonded with my ex over, because it is sooooooo human. So deep. And I was thinking, this is not how I want to connect with people, because people hear it and think about the surface of their fear. I want to connect through our humanity, through our universality, want to laugh at our fear, want to giggle about our shame, want our mistakes to be frosting on a much larger cake.

I often think of all the shameful moments in my life, and I want someone who responds to me the way I respond at work to these kids when they share their mistakes. I want someone who looks at me without judgment and says, "Oh yeah? tell me more..." and treats it like I am telling a story about getting delicious ice cream. Why do you think you did that Mike?  What keeps you from doing it again? And when you do, what do you need?  Hey human, you're amazing, how can I support you in being more amazing?

But we are so human. Relationships are so tough. They are not 100/100, they are not even 50/50, they are a tumultuous mix of negotiating and forgiveness, asking, be asked, demanded of, demanding, reaching out and repairing. Of holding each other accountable, but not just out of selfishness. How do we ask each other to put our own suffering on hold, so that another person can be themselves? How do we explore our jealousies without arousing more insecurity? How can I assure you I will never stray, and that I love that other person today.

I've been thinking a lot about how I want to apologize to the people I've hurt, and have those people know that I've spent decades trying to find the words to say that I've been hurting for them, even though I can't take from them the pain I caused in a moment of selfishness or self protection. I want to be able to stay present afterwards, but I can't imagine not running away. Knowing that they won't be able to hear me without deflecting. Knowing they won't be able to understand me completely.

I want to express myself openly, 100% and have everyone know that a minute later I might say the complete opposite and it would also be me 100% because I am growing and changing, and I want them to love that. Love me, love that I am broken and mended, molding myself anew in each moment. And they are too. And I love that, though it hurts me too. Know that I am a wave across the lake, reflecting the blue in a dozen shades, and I see you in them too. And you are the sun, giving life to these naked trees, and I am a budding smile as well. And we are loons, a distance apart, delving into our own depths only to resurface again. And we are brilliant. Afraid. Lonely and connected. And we are overwhelming. Despairing. And beautiful. Crying and smiling. Karmic and godly. Universal. We are, have been, will be. And this is the only truth.

What to say, when there is nothing new

Life is good for the most part. Doing well with work. Got friends and family who are reaching out even though I am exhausted and isolating. Maddy had a birthday (I think they are going with a Y officially).

I'm lonely. I've done better at pushing the drama out this week, but its left a big void with nothing to replace it. Like literally there is nothing but work. I can take on my friends problems again, or worry about my brother, or do some deep diving into my own stuff... but then what?
Numb out with games/movies/social media.

I can't seem to get myself to read for fun. I can't seem to get myself to write creatively.

My energy is going to work again, but I am trying to set boundaries... but for what?
I have no one to share my life with, it might as well go to the kids.

Some out there possibilities that occasionally get my hopes up...

• the lady at work I probably won't see again till summer and who I know nothing about?
• the energy worker lady who I like because of her blog, but probably wouldn't like in real life?
• an old friend from college I use to flirt with, who I would probably feel isn't able to add much to my life, but who I could take care of?
• the crush lady from MCTC I just randomly saw on bumble one day?
• the afghan girl?

But of course, none of this is real. These are just randoms with nothing growing from them. In the time of quarantine is it even worth it to try?  Hell, if I had a good crush, I might start a nice series of emails. It would be nice to get to know someone. But I don't want to feel responsible for them. I want to be selfish. I want someone who wants me for a change. 

My tarot readers offer me a lot of hope, they say a person is on their way. Someone who is spiritual and deep, and ready to put in the work. They say cut out the old, to make way for the new,  but then it feels like I am disappointed when nothing new happens. I'm still struggling to keep the space reserved. It's funny, how long does that take? Hold space until you get so bored with yourself that you choose more drama. 

Its really easy to see in hindsight, just how little I mattered and yet I dwelled on M for two years, and I'm still pushing the thoughts out.

My supervisor challenged me on a couple of things I need to think about, or rather said some things, and I took them on and considered that they might need to be reflected upon.

-About wanting to be liked. How much of my decision making is to be liked?

-About taking responsibility for things that are not yours --and how that doesn't allow them to grow.

-About how in my head I have equated attachment to someone as responsibility for them -and so I rescue to protect my own feelings, rather than actually helping them.

These are some big long term things I need to think through. But... why?

I am not nearly as depressed as I sound. Or maybe I am. I am having a lot of back and chest pain from sitting in this chair all week. I think I have a rib out. I don't think it is illness, just being out of alignment.

satcitananda

Charmed my the tolling bells. 

Listening to music and suddenly crying on the floor. 

Minding my business when she reached out with flattery.

Lost in reminiscing smiles, adventurous youth, nostalgic glory.

Standing still, just watching the snow fall on the lake. The birds gliding, wings weighted. 

Asked to make a decision without any knowledge of the scales. 

Saw a familiar face, and became excited. 

Wasted the day, content beneath a weighted blanket.

The cars are all heavy now. You have no where to go anyway.


There isn't anything more or less than this. 

This is, what is. 

Breathe, relax, enjoy.

Roles

I'm spending the day in a vulnerable space.
I decided that I wasn't moving forward, so I put up a barrier.
The first thing I felt was a sense of freedom, of limitlessness. 
Life felt expansive for a moment, a little too expansive. 
Too much like floating in an endless sky.
The drama gave me structure.
Now when it comes up (because it is so thoroughly imbedded in me), I try to remind myself that it isn't my place to be stuck in, that its just drama my mind is creating to keep from experiencing life as it is.

And what is it?
I'm suddenly pummeled by memories again, feelings, loneliness, loss. It's expansive. It envelopes me in moments when I'm not prepared, and suddenly I am crying while I'm singing or dancing down the street. Suddenly things don't have the same weight, reality is so easily distorted, a simple thing anchors me in place, a complexity seems too vast. 

Without the drama, without the roles, its just a jumble of feelings.

The role is protective. 
It isn't real, but it keeps me from having to experience the truth. The truth is too big and despite its beauty, its scary. What if I am caught off guard and let someone down? What if I am too needy? What if I am wasting away the only chance I have?

I'm still grieving, I'm still confused, I'm still hurting, I'm still lonely.
I'm less angry. Less sure of myself. Less sure... and yet, I feel like this is what I signed up for.

As Frusciante says
"great is my confusion
It never lets me be
no one said to be here
I was punished by me"

And I think about what my soul signed up for this go'round. Karmic cycles and all that.
Was I "meant" to learn something? Have I learned it? Would pulling yourself out of drama cycles be enough of a lesson? It feels like it will take me this life time at least. Even now as I name it, I can't foresee myself not returning to it. It's exciting and comforting, its a cycle of purpose.  

It's hard to imagine meeting anyone and not being enticed. It's hard to imagine any other reason why it is so hard for me to relate/create a meaningful relationship -unless this was meant, why is it so easy for others and for me nothing but struggle?

I was thinking about what I would say if I knew I was about to die.
I'd say something similar to the hand written note I wrote before heading into central america -where a dream told me I would die. And I went excitedly in search of the destination.  Ready to live or die and just own my life.  I did not find death. Did I find life?

And If there is no right path, if life is random, if chaos is just chaos... if death and suffering are just meaningless cycles of life. Can I be content to just exist? To live and die, to take in, and let go?

What am I clinging to?

Everything in me says that I am learning and growing, that this pain is purposeful. But will I be more on guard?  I think about the place I was in when I decide to ignore my own intuition. When I decided that I wouldn't be afraid, and would just go with my desires... 

I was so lonely and bored, and sick of being on my own. Would something more healthy have come along? Or would I have been just as lonely and bored the last few years?

How long am I supposed to fight for being content by myself? Why can't I crave, and cave to my desires, my longing, my needs and wants?  Why can't I be selfish? 

I am finding purpose and meaning again in work. 

When I go too far in giving into my desires I become depressed and insecure. 

When I don't go far enough I become depressed and insecure. 

Balance is a fucking moving target. 

This is life. 

"Life is a funny game."

John Frusciante - DC EP [Full Album]

Drama

I didn't do much today.
I went for a walk with Illy. That was nice. She is worried she is experiencing mania again. I think we are all being tested in one way or another. 

But mostly I played computer games today. 

I tried to read a book and basically fell asleep sitting up.
I told myself no more videos/video games until you do some reading or writing (work/fun)
then spent like 3 hours on my phone watching tik toks and instagram shit. 

Also, I think it's been confirmed:
Not only did she move (probably in Feb) but she is with someone else, and he knows the kids. 
Probably someone I heard about.
It hurt for a moment. 
I prayed for the whole world. 
The feelings come and go. 
But really I kind of find the whole thing sort of curious. Why am I hurt? Why am I jealous? This was a relationship that made me feel insecure all the time. This is a relationship that required me to constantly be shaving off pieces of myself just to feel like I could fit for awhile. This was a relationship that I thought could be meaningful, but the other person never invested. This is a relationship where I was always the one who brought up anything meaningful or intentional, and she basically lied by omission, hid stuff, flirted openly with other people, and stopped talking altogether toward the end. So what if she invests in the next person, I hope she does. I hope she is capable. I hope the stuff I saw in her can be realized out there in the world. So why am I hurt?  Because I don't get to see it? experience it? because I wasn't good enough? Was played?  
Na... I played myself. Cut off my own corners to fit. Saw too clearly that I was taking a risk. I tried to hold her accountable to anything, and felt like I was blamed for it...
Thats just not what I want. I love her. But it was not a healthy relationship. Neither of us could be healthy in that relationship. I am doing much better now despite the loneliness. And I want something more than that. I want someone who invests in me. Wants to make it work with me, and when they invite me into their life, it will be to make a life together, not just to mess around. 

How do I get that? no clue. 
But now I am wondering if I need to block her. I keep getting all dramatic, but even when I am not, I am curious. I am always curious. Do I need to put up a boundary in order to move forward? It would probably be healthy. This is not a new thing for me, this is a lifelong issue. 
So should I?
Force myself to think about something else. 
Think about what I am looking for. 
Put some effort into that.
Put some effort into my own life, making it something interesting. Rather than snooping? 
I guess I am not actually ready to say good bye.   But I am close. 
Life is hard to do on your own.

Fear, Abundance, Flow

I've been stuck at home. Work is good, but suddenly I am realizing how draining it can be to be positive and calm for others, without filling your own cup. How do I get my cup filled?
One thing that isn't helping is my thoughts returning to drama. Thats not helpful. She has moved on, why am I still dwelling?
One thing that is helpful is going for walks. Sun or rain, it is beautiful.
One thing that isn't helpful is delaying paperwork. It just stacks up, and its not even hard.
One thing that is helpful is planning and prepping. Feeling confident and moving forward. 
One thing that isn't helpful is looking at barriers and getting stuck. And boy are they everywhere. 
One thing that is helpful is creativity and spirituality. Meditations, rituals, prayer, writing, fantasizing?

In the time of covid 19, I am struggling with what my next life steps would be. There appears to be no opportunities. I walk to the coffee shop. I am inside for 1 minute. I go to the grocery store. Everyone is masked. Everyone is distanced. I reach out to people I already know and join them for chats, and games online. We try to raise each others spirits, without denying the truth. We are all afraid, all lonely, all anxious, and in our response to that, none of us actually want to be outgoing and there for each other... we are all secretly saying -Don't talk, just hold me.

365 days in a year, how many of those did I hold her, as she drifted off to sleep?  320?  And her story is that I didn't love her... huh.  (drama).

I think I should go back to writing my book. Its a perfect time. I should spend all weekend doing it. I should be day dreaming about that, rather than daydreaming about future unknowns and dwelling on the past. It's a perfect time to write about the isolation Lucy experiences in post-war america. It's the perfect time to write about the fuck it attitude Shawn has after he throws himself into things and gets nothing for it. It's the perfect time to write about the children like Julio and Daniella who no one actually cares about, as they are scattered into the world to do someone else's bidding. It's a perfect time to write about the death of Esteban and Diego, beloved heroes turned into martyrs but for which side of the story. In short, its a perfect time to write about how people try to find hope in things, big and small, even when the world is falling apart, especially when the world is falling apart.
But I am not feeling all that motivated...  

Maybe the book was supposed to be done by now.
Maybe it will never get finished.

I have three days to finish case notes, write, read books, watch videos, play games, make art, speak to people, go for walks.

I better finish my coffee first.  Laugh at something. Eat some cinnamon bread.


What the hell am I doing with my life?

Drama

I started writing a poem about how I like drama. Then thought it was silly. 
I keep waking up and going to sleep with drama on my mind. 
It's useless, but it gives my mind something to do.
I used to write my novel when I was in this space, fictional characters to work through my own history and experiences. But now, I don't seem to have the presence of mind to stay focused like that.
I catch myself walking down the street, wondering if I would like to switch my view. 
I wonder aloud what the point is, when there is nothing new to fill the space. 
I perseverate on the past and future scenarios that will never happen. What would I say if... how would I respond if...

Some of the tarot, horoscopes etc say you have to open the space up before something will rush in.
Thats how space works. 
I've been trying to slowly close off the room in my heart, opening it up to new things, to work etc.
There are a lot of people I'd like to reach out to, but I don't think I have the energy to sustain it. 
I doubt they would. It's like an artificial winter. Who can you maintain with?

Illy asked me to move into the space next door to her. I said I would check it out, but I am resistant. 
There are always those dreams of living close to all of your people. It feels natural and healthy, but I worry that living too close to a best friend actually keeps you from moving. Would be easy to become parasitic. Might even lead to conflict. Plus, I like my space. I realized recently that I still haven't made it a home. It's not long term. I think if I bought a place I would put stuff on the walls. But I am not very invested otherwise. No one comes here. I am a minimalist. What is my life?

I've been thinking about how I like my job, but I can already tell there isn't anywhere to go from there. Like, I could do outpatient on the side, but why? More money, less time. Why not just get paid to do full time outpatient? I suppose I could do workshops or teach college on the side. 
It's the team part that attracted me to the job... but quarantine has made the team fall apart. 
So... I am basically doing a lot of what I was doing before. Meeting with folks individually, distanced, minding my own space. 
And I am ok at it. But I am not thriving. I guess it would be a lot to expect to thrive under a quarantine.  

Life balance is difficult. 

Values balancing.   I keep going to get coffee and I can't tell if I am participating in the wage slavery capitalism, or helping out workers who otherwise would be struggling even more?

No good answers during quarantine, it will be the story we make after the trauma that tells us who we are and what we experienced. 

Today today

I woke up at 9:30 the morning. Had gone to bed around 11:30- or midnight. I haven't been sleeping well, but can't point to anything wrong. I just wake up not feeling refreshed. Those morning hours don't feel like they matter, like I'm on the edge of sleep and wake, and gaining the benefits of neither.

I wish I were dreaming more. Wish I was experiencing the kinds of dreams that tell me things.

This morning I watched tarot videos and tried to plot out the day. I keep getting angry and arguing in the morning, it's not like it was, but its sort of on repeat. Its my mind's basic go-to move when I have nothing personal to contemplate, when everything is going fine, I have no drama or love, and it is all inline with the way things have been, generally trending well (personally). But without a connection, is anything real?  A beautiful experience. No one to share it with.

I went for a walk with my Dad and Steve. I ended up calling Steve out on the way he was treating his friend, and not owning his own feelings. It wasn't meant to be harsh, but the way that he was talking about the situation was just too self centered, and yet he was blaming his friend for it.

I realized while I was doing it that this is how I have been reacting lately internally to thoughts of M, going back to the idea of her being narcissistic and me being the victim  -meanwhile the way she seemed to be perceiving it was that she was the victim...  and this dynamic does nothing for either of us.   So I've been trying to remind myself of my own responsibilities, my own reactions, my choices in responding to difficult feelings, and owning the way I have done so many of the same things she did to me. That actually, we are all hiding and self protecting, doing everything in our power to not admit how powerless we feel, how ashamed, how guilty, how abandoned.

I am that.

Steve is that. I felt bad for calling him out, but I also felt like the way he was talking would never get him or his friend anywhere. It would leave him feeling taken advantage of, and his friend abandoned.
Neither benefit from that twist. Better to acknowledge the hurt, better to take responsibility for it.

I've been thinking a lot about this because the last few days of the abundance challenge were really helpful and also difficult. I still haven't completed it.

One of them was to write a letter to someone.
Another was just to take stock, take responsibility, and own the idea of abundance.
It's easy for me to want to move forward. But am I ready?

This afternoon, I spent 2 hours on a video chat with the White Fragility book club from the UU church. Half the group is older white women who are wrestling with these questions for the first time. The two people I relate to the most are a jewish woman and a woman who identifies as queer. The others, though they are social workers and what not, just remind me of the problem. I should be teaching this kind of stuff, not participating. It is too beginning level. These folks have been wrestling with it for just a few years. BUT, it was actually a lot of fun. I found myself emphatically nodding along. I found myself smiling. I found myself wrestling just a bit, wondering how to phrase things, getting caught off guard by my lack of vocabulary in the moment.

Afterwards I made some salmon and ate too many oreos.
I found myself on facebook and snooping. A new picture or two.
She was baking for N (grief), she was sitting on a deck I didn't recognize.
I am pretty sure she moved. I had always wondered how she'd be able to stay in that apartment that must have reminded her of me. I can't even drive through St. Paul without being overwhelmed, how could you stay in those halls and not see me in the door way? Cook in the kitchen and not see me waiting at the counter? It makes sense. I wish her well, even in my jealousy and hurt.  And its still there, but I move through it much quicker than I used to.

I tried to start up the abundance journaling that I'd put off, but it wasn't resonating, I felt heavy and achy, I fell asleep.

I went to my bed. I set an alarm. I tried to take an hour, but instead began thinking of the little lies one of my clients shares, and how they put up walls between him and other people. How they distort reality, and make it harder for people to believe him. And then he wonders why he is all alone, and hates everyone -Which is what I was thinking about M this morning in the shower- to be surrounded by people who want to love you, but you distort the picture so much that you still feel alone all the time. It's tragic. And yet, I feel like I can recognize it easier now, and I hope I can help my client recognize and change things before it becomes a life time of this.  (Sometimes I feel like the relationship really helped me with these students).

I was sitting there, halfway between sleep and wake, and thinking about why those pictures were hard, and recognized that again, I had pictured myself in these futures. Pictured myself making N breakfast, buying the groceries for them, waiting with a cup of coffee while she made stuff for them, pictured them in their PJs running around. Sunday mornings. Pictured us moving to a new place together. Making a life together.
I sort of thought that it would end... the grief, its been easier since the birthdays. Those milestones that I had set in my mind, they came, they were each hard, and they passed. But now, I am still aware that they are moving on, and I am too. And as my therapist reminded me yesterday, some folks process (and love) on one or two levels, and we can appreciate them for that, even love them, but if we are processing and loving on 7 or 10 or 1000, then we maybe aren't the right fit.  She used to always say I was overthinking it, hard for her to comprehend more than a level of two of love, and I would always smile, and internally worry that she wasn't able to appreciate the beauty and complexity, and that that would keep us apart.
Halfway between dreams and wake, I suddenly felt her in my arms, my chin resting just a touch on her head. These things has been so satisfying to me once. Home.



Not sure how to end this:
Some part of me:
Wants a happy ending.
Wants to remind myself that I am learning and growing and will choose more wisely next time.
Wants to remind me that I have to keep up the walls.
Wants to remind me that I am dwelling on someone who left me 8 months ago, and who, didn't love me the way I loved her.
Wants to remind me that I did love her.
And I suppose some part of me is stalling because I don't know how to finish the abundance journal and don't want to do my paperwork for work tomorrow.

ha!


Unity. I am that.
We are all the same, shadows, reflections, differing timelines, they mean nothing, we are all love, bound by it, attached, connected, distraught, reactive, we push and pull, beat at ourselves and others, but we are bound up in it, one big goo pile with a trillion facets. A trillion dimensions. We couldn't do things differently no matter how we tried, we are a mirror reflecting, we are infinite possibilities enacted, and it is beautiful and horrible, and awe-full.

parts, moments, motion

This week has been interesting. The work week was relatively good, but I kept feeling disconnected from my coworkers -covid and all. It kind of felt like more than that, like that feeling where you part of a group but on the outside, and not sure what you have to offer.

The actual appointments and things went really well. I feel like I am getting to know the kids and their families, and that even group therapy time ended up being ok this week.

My supervisor recommended that drama triangle and I realized that I was introduced to that a long time ago, but had completely forgotten. I've been more focused on the victim/rescue roles. But also the shame/blame roles. I guess the triangle makes it more real, and considering each persons perspective in the triangle really adds depth. I'm hoping to introduce it to some kiddos but they are really young, so who knows if they can handle it.

The roles aren't fixed. Thats the important thing. We slip in and out of this drama cycle, and sometimes when we are really in it, we move from one part to the next easily, and don't have a chance to take a step back and notice what's happening.
I usually start as a rescuer, usually end up feeling like a victim, but being blamed as a perpetrator.
No wonder it's so easy to dwell after the end.



This week I've had a bunch of times when I was suddenly crying. Sometimes it was people's stories -empathy hitting me over a screen. Sometimes its reading something. Sometimes its just considering the world today. Suddenly it all feels so sad.

But at the same time, I am feeling really hopeful and positive. Or at least I think I am. Some of the abundance meditation was on the unity of existence, brahman, etc., and it felt really nice to frame things that way this week. In that lens, someones mistakes are just a moment in a stream of time that is infinite and circular, nothing to take personally, its like watching yourself make the same mistake and knowing it doesn't amount to anything, at the same time, the joys don't necessarily dissipate because  hey, isn't that beautiful regardless?  I can let go of things. I can smile at things. I can find people beautiful in their core, because that is true, regardless of anything... given infinity, given the unity of all creation and g-d... all is love, all is beauty, all is, and I am that.

But then, I am crying over a policy.
Crying over someone's isolation.
Crying over a lost love or two.
Crying because something is too beautiful.

its ok. I cry often, but there is definitely a feeling that the world is overwhelmed...

My friend sent me an article saying 21 million cell phones in china went quiet, presuming that many of those people died and it went unreported. how many people die a day in china? In the land of 1.3 billion, does a million or two matter? Would we even know? YES and unfortunately no.

But maybe I cry for them even though I don't know them. Cry at the disturbance in the force.

But I saw a fox roaming the streets of Minneapolis. I saw beautiful birds all week.
I saw amazing art. Read awesome things. Indulged in luxury. Laughed like a maniac at the hilarity of humans. Gave my self time to exist.

Today I was watching these videos of a woman with DID, and I wondered about all the parts of myself that have been integrated over the years, and that maybe I forgot about. Did they have names? Did they have personalities of their own?

I was standing at the sink doing dishes and had that peculiar sensation I often have of things seeming unnatural. I feel like I rarely get that feeling when I am around people, but too often when I am alone. That experience of feeling like this isn't my reality, not my body, not my life. Like this whole existence isn't quite right, and then wondering if I am just disappointed with my situation?
I continued to wash the dishes, I danced to some music, I wondered if any of it mattered in anyway at all. And maybe that's why it feels so peculiar, because it is a tree falling in the woods, because it is a life lived in isolation, without relationships, do we exist? Does our life mean anything at all?

My friend suggested she needed a week off of work. I couldn't stand not having work right now. I need purpose. But when she was saying it, I could imagine wanting to skip ahead. Skip a week here or there, check out and then back in a week later, nothing has changed but the time has been spent. You don't have to suffer through it alone.

I have therapy in the morning. last time I said I was doing well. This time? I don't know. I feel good, and sad. I feel optimistic, and lonely. I feel like things matter, and also don't. What is real? Nothing and everything?

I want to reach out to people who I have loved, and say please hold my heart tenderly for a moment, it longs to be touched, to be assured that it isn't slowly evaporating. give it weight, give it warmth.

This too shall pass, and me too, I am that.

The Drama Triangle