Will this be the last post of the year?

I started writing this a few days ago, Christmas Day. But the weekend was this super lonely numbing experience, and I was all existential in my head, and all desperate for distraction in my body. 

This morning I went into work and had a hard time shaking it. Looking around at the walls, and the office, and the people, I had this feeling like none of it mattered all that much. like I was ready to walk away at any time. I sat with my coworkers for a few trainings, felt a little more like I was part of something. But not really. I am kind of hoping that the clinical trainee I am training in becomes my replacement. Not because she is exceptionally good or anything, but because at least she'd be familiar with the kids, the routine, the space. 

I wrote the green and the blue on Christmas, the rest tonight. Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Aggression and sexuality / masculine energy / lust for life

One of the things I've been thinking I need to bring up in therapy is being supported by a number of conversations and books I have read lately, namely, that due to the shame I have felt in my life, I downplay my aggression and sexuality. Simply put, I am afraid of them as they have led to consequences I don't like... also, the jobs that I have taken, require a high degree of trust in me as a person, and that I won't take advantage of or make people uncomfortable... these roles have traditionally been performed by women (teachers/counselors/caretaker roles), and so suppressing some of those masculine traits is kind of par for the course. So for most of my life I have been downplaying these traits... sometimes this behavior has led me to act out in other ways. And so, when I think of the shadow work I need to do, it's basically to reclaim my masculine traits. I am not sure how to do that. Not sure how it would play out in relationships or at work. Some folks look to my leadership or my knowledge and suggest if I were more action oriented I'd be more successful and others would benefit as well. 

How this suppression has actually played out in my life is that I have very little passion -have in fact pursued a path in which I don't seek out excitement or drama, don't try to conquer or grab for power, don't jump to the things that seem to bring joy. Don't claim anything. Don't seek out. Maybe that is the wisdom of recognizing that those things are temporary highs. Grabbing and reaching will inevitably lead to disappointment/decline. Or maybe it's because I have lost the lust for life, have not invested in that masculine energy. Have just accepted that mellowness that melancholy. 

I've noticed that I continue to have some passion for work, and enjoy things still... the little beauties, the awe, the gratitude and joy. But not the lust for life, for thriving, for succeeding.  

I've always comforted myself with saying that it is a wiser path, a soulful path. But what is my human body and ego supposed to do with that except to decline? I need to invest in something that is both for myself and bigger than myself. 

Of course, maybe this is also because my attempts to reach have left me devastated. Maybe the Covid world and the decline of the American empire echoes what I am experiencing...but other people don't seem to have this issue. Or at least have people around to commiserate with? I am not different, just haven't found my group to complain to. 

Lonely Christmas

I am sitting at home alone. I have seen some family and will see some more in an hour or so... but ultimately its been a very low key Christmas. No magic. Some folks have Covid in the family. But I have also turned down offers to spend more time with folks, friends, family etc. I am limiting my time with people because when I am around them I am so aware of what is lacking... What am I contributing?  Where is the carrying on?  In most ways, its just the lack of relationship and no kids, but also just the thing of like -what is this leading to? is there a goal here?  

I have been silly and spending too much time on social media, and the fomo is real. I see lots of beautiful photos of folks who look happy. And it makes me question why I am alone. Why I don't look forward to seeing my friends, or family during the holiday. It just sucks. 

But it's harder to stay present with the feelings. I want to escape. I might even take an edible tonight and  eat some pie. Social media, something to fill the space please???

What would you like this time next year?

brainstorm:

It is a broken record, in a lot of ways it is more like, what are you willing to change?

Travel. New job. New place. new friends. new hang out or a social hobby. new partner. spiritual practice  -maybe I need some kundalini. A creative project to complete (poems, stories, art, video), a place to perform. a space to be. I dunno... 

I'd like to attend a holiday without feeling like I've fallen behind, to feel proud to celebrate, to want to be amongst the gathered. 

Changes for the new year?

bbccbvbcvbcv

I have been getting frustrated with my body, the lack of exercise, the aches and pains, the sag of 10 or 20 extra pounds. I could probably do something with that. 

I continue to avoid returning to the UU church. Even though I liked it, I didn't find a home there. I didn't really make new friends or find a partner. I found a congregation to cry amongst and a few good conversations, I found dreams but not steps. 

I dunno... I dunno. I dunno. 

I watch so many movies and tv shows and the drama of connection and disconnection, the heart break and the repair, the promised joining. I want to be in love again. 

waves

 

I've been sort of overwhelmed by the universal principle of balance, of give and take, the tao if you will. Overwhelmed, or awed, either way, it impresses and drags on me. 

I meet with parents who have spent their entire time of parenting trying to save their child from A, only to find that their child has found their way to it, some back door they hadn't considered, and worse, of course the child blames them. I thought we were providing stability and security so that they could feel free, but now they make impulsive rebellious decisions and can't take responsibility for their actions (because the parents jumped in to save them). Or, we provided freedom and choice, and reassurance so that they didn't feel weighted down by the baggage our parents put on us, and now they can't make decisions because they are so overwhelmed with disappointing us, or making the wrong decision...   and its hilarious, and tragic, and perfectly predictable. And I work with the kids who make these horrible decisions and feel totally justified, or totally ashamed of themselves, and either way, I just want to step in and say 'yeah, that's normal... what do you want to do next?' but they of course aren't nearly 40 years old, so they feel totally overwhelmed and can't figure out how to get themselves out of the muck. 

And me, I am no different. I have been wrestling with telling my therapist about my paraphilia, an issue of course because it causes me so much anxiety and shame, and causes me to sneak and manipulate, and if it didn't, it'd just be a kink and not cause for concern... but its also just a symptom of the other thing, the wave that pushes forward also rescinds of course... so would it be a thing at all if I hadn't been a little concrete obsessive kid, afraid of sinning and dirtiness, and being rejected (bad), and afraid of being neglected (so be good)?  I created my great sin, by calling it taboo, by putting it off limits, and so the thing I wished to never be, became the shadow monster that I shackled to my ankle, it's weight always miring the progress I believe I've made. The shadow has to be integrated. So I go to therapy, but worry about being rejected, misunderstood, judged.

A few weeks ago, tiptoeing around the issue, my therapist asked me to visualize it in toys -we used the example of my childhood obsession with castles, so of course I chose a lego castle, a knight, a "criminal," a dragon. There didn't need to be anyone else, they were all playing roles. The knight was armored and good. He played the role, he didn't judge, just saw them in their roles and knew that they needed to be. He is wise, and he is exhausted with being good. The criminal, sneaking around trying to get his needs met, but oh, he is also charming and funny, and creative and a critical thinker. He has to be. She asked what they would each want. The charmer wants to be an entertainer, to charm, to make people happy. He wants to turn those gifts into a way of teaching, through laughter and smiles, he is a jester, but he is in on the joke. The knight I said, just wants to retire. What would he do? she asked, I said travel, enjoy everything, smile and be present. He is just sick of keeping up the armor, the act. He wants to be in relationship and just appreciate everything, enjoy the sense of awe as he sees everything is in its right place... the dragon?  The knight knows that the dragon is a Dragon, if you let it go it might burn down the local town, or it might just fly through the sky. Either would be its nature, and so we lock it up. What does it want?  Someone to enjoy that it is a dragon. It just wants to be a dragon...

Which is you? all of them, all are me, all the time, and the setting too. The castle is beautiful, but cold, its admirable, a thing to behold but rigid, uninviting, uncomfortable. No one wants to live there. It's lonely. 

I am reading Esther Perel's "Mating in Captivity" and considering these waves... oh my attempts to be good, trustworthy, compassionate, kind, attentive, how they backfire. How people become comfortable with me as a friend as someone grounding, and lose interest in me as anything more. How when I spring my dragon on them, they are turned away in fear because its not a dragon they wanted, and certainly not what I told them I was...  

Another side effect is that it makes me replay and want to investigate my past relationships, which just causes more dwelling. Not sure that rereading old emails is a good choice, not sure I will find new answers in old places. 

Anyway... the point is that understanding any of this -doesn't alleviate. It is what it is. I can free the dragon, watch the castle crumble, take off the armor, tell the jokes and do some prancing... but without these roles?  Who knows... not me. 

I can argue all the beautiful things this pattern of waves creates... but as inspiring and amazing as samsara can be, it is also a pain in the ass. By design. By design. 

Considering traveling again. Maybe do a few months in Europe this summer. Quit my job, figure something out with the apartment and bills... roam the paths I haven't roamed before and a few I have with different eyes. I will be 38 (my Dad forgot today). 20 years since my first solo backpacking trip. Have I changed? Have I grown? Have I become more wise or more stupid?

There is part of me that is excited by the idea of this trip and another part that is kind of cringing at it.... how many times will I flee alone? Do I still need these things? Will they provide me anything I am actually looking for, or just more pretty distractions? another bragging right... 

Not sure. Other options... take a class, move somewhere (a different kind of adventure), get a new job, start a business, get back to writing, etc. 

Anything could change in a second. 

One of the wave things I sometimes fantasize about is the idea that my self sufficiency might have to get dramatically challenged, like a hospital visit, and in recovery that would give me a new perspective. 

But it doesn't have to be so hard... we could just all choose better and recognize the consequences are coming...

 

Jeremy Enigk ‘How It Feels To Be Something On’ in Tampa FL 01/18/2019 Su...

I was sitting at the Spyhouse on Nicollet, growing slowly bored, restless, fueled by caffeine but not quite creative, not quite inspired. I have lost some of my tolerance for sitting still in public, how many hours have I spent in that same building? but with each passing minute I was more and more ready to pick up and leave, and to do what? I had no plans, a simple set of ideas, a few responsibilities easily pushed aside. Time to myself, too much really. And all the same, I was ready to run. 

I steadied myself a little while longer, made it to 200 pages in the book I read 5 years ago? 6? 8? 

A book that promises so much, and so slowly fulfills, soothes and smothers you. 

I awoke this morning wondering and optimistic about my capabilities (time to learn a new song *posted, time to write the next chapter of that book, time to pastel some masterpiece, time to meet someone fascinating), and it is nearly 20 after 5 and I am ready for bed. If it weren't for laundry and the thought of wasted time, I might have gone to dream early. 

This morning I had a dream that some magical jungle cat and I were bonded, and I was at a family gathering, without tension, and rolling along with this cat, and not so allergic. 

I was sitting in the coffee shop wondering if I should call on the universe to make something happen. Test it. Manifest it. Whatever you want to call it. And I had that thought about that dream that terrified me, the one the first therapist brushed aside, and the second said was a steady answer to my grand illusion that I have control over everything, but neither seemed to get the point, which is to say there is something special, and maybe terrifying here. And I wondered if like Kvothe in the Name of the Wind, I could simply call it into my life, name the thing that had been missing, and move on to the next chapter. But I left instead. Started some laundry. Will probably not leave the house again tonight, and if I do, only to get fast-food. 

Tomorrow I see Rachel, and if I am honest, I'd prefer to spend a few hours sitting in a coffeeshop reading and people watching instead of meeting with a friend. But I am aware that all this alone time isn't exactly calling anything new into my life either. 

I dunno. Maybe by tomorrow I'll be ready for a walk. 

Infinite expanse, mirrors

 So every once in a while I take an edible. Orange is original (I was not looking at my keyboard at all). Blue is sober translation when I felt it was necessary to make sense. Green is sober commentary. 

Maybe I am just finally having a glimpse into the life of Alex Grey

Anyway into his theory of infinite mirror, because if G-d wants to demonstrate true absolute infinite authority over all that exists./.. then it is to make infinite mirror upon mirrors, each new choice mirror a thousand times through each new possibility ex[ansion in multiple dimensions, because the tiny little moment ex[amds in all different directions so they keep multiplying and the expanse happens into all finfifintie infinities  (The word infinite gets hard to type repeatedly)

yu cannit di a wring thung you cannot do a wrong thing, because each choose just expansive into the infinite liltuode multitude? of splintering possibilities 

there isn't ecem even a right choice, or a right path, etc one makes y-d aja[[y as itnsp[oliters into spa ima ex[amacxopms/...  Honestly have no idea

its really like hella beyond the mind, infinite repeating infinities spanning in eacydirection, no wrong anythings... follow the music,birbintoons vibrations, the creschending next thing, no matter what it is.... just amuse in its version of the truth...any action we choose is ok.... there isn't a right a d wdogng.because F-d cipirtalises G-D capitalizes on them either way           my mind likes to doubt this reality but the truth in its totalitiynis gotta what I find,..... wen I do ill bind it to my brain..  

there had to be an Adam, and a skim, and a derrick. 

because each infinites is n ifitjes expender....m expander... a multiplier by an infinite... !!!! fuck

each moment of guilt for each moment, is only adding or subtracting. and it doesn't matter...none of it is wrong. enjoy the wrongs!   ha ha ha that was a moment. ..  neither adding or subtracting, 

a dimension of the vibration....    trying to keep top with the flow is no t am eddy dstrtogvypm

and in the end.... a cartoon jingle, a all spice commercial, like I was saying... jamming, bouncing off each other, each percussive... so expansive. the has been going on since  there was a since.  snaking though since, so much contact all this bumps... all those bruises from the expansion, there must be some damage thfloatig through... each bouncing and each expanding..... 

Which would mean all the thought out theories, every single one of them, is also true they are all true as they all expand the universes... infinites bouncing, multiplying, 

You can choose any path you want, even all the good ones, and the G-dof it all smiles... good for you he beams when you complete with a 1000 score, no wrong answers there are flll spoof....LLLA Alll good.... alll good, the score infi

nicely multiplies, and each fight is a smile ....a boy an awe a

nd oimmer glow......

you could choose a blessied life or a cursed and it wouldn't tarnish it no bit...

all good all good all good....to the one who knows... the real knower.

the secret one who ais all and sees all and sits beside all... all good. 

This theory was really heartening for me last night. This idea of the expansiveness of infinite multiplicity. So that there can really be no wrong thing, each decision only creating new infinite possibilities that G-d enjoys regardless (as they all demonstrate the capacity... if the capacity for creation is the thing, then all choices demonstrate it. No good or bad, all just ways of categorizing the various types of expansion. Its a nice theory. This morning, I was thinking again how much being high and science/spirituality have in common. Were any of these theories possible without mind "altering" experiences?   Do these drugs (as Russ would say) act as tools to help humans grow, intended only for those who can translate the language of the visions?  Or are they a natural aid, to help us see the reality that our day to day doesn't allow us to see, but that is real none the less? Or is it just that they offer a unique way of experiencing the capacity of the mind, its limitations, its possibilities... there may only be one way for that set of neurons to respond to that particular input, and it is to see repeated rectangular shapes behind the eyes... you know?  Like maybe this is just how the human brain processes while being impacted by that set of chemicals... its all pretty fascinating. 

Anyway, the spiritual-scientific theory I was hyping on does have one downside if viewed from a selfish personal lens, which is that we are all special, and therefor from a lowly human perspective, not special.  Protestant Christianity appeals to that one part of your heart that says "hey you, you're my flavor, come have a relationship with me." and that doesn't really have the same impact when its like G-d in it's infinite all knowing/seeing/understanding/being capacity, has a personal relationship and enjoys the infinite possibilities of you, and all equally so. Not good or bad choices, so also not good or bad you. Ego. I guess. In the space when I was high, that didn't matter, maybe slightly left of my ego self. I was just as happy to be a slime, as I was to be sitting on the couch, or eating peanut butter on crackers. Everything was good after all. 

I remember the reason this theory came to me was that when I am high I often feel things as vibrations. It is very much like that ocular game where things fly at you in patterns. Well, when I am listening to music, or watching someone talk, the vibrations approach me, and I often feel like I have to dance, or move with them, get into the flow of it... It is not dissimilar to how I am naturally at a good concert when I can just let go.. no need for THC then, but while high, it feels like I cannot do it wrong... and then I wondered am I following the vibrations, or leading them? Am I aware of them before they happen? EG I often respond to my phone even when it is on silent and my eyes are closed. I respond to the intuitive vibrations sometimes before they happen. It's all instantaneous after all. But this experience makes me think that good music, art, conversation, etc is in line with these vibrations, while "bad" is out of line... I basically dance move around the house when I am high, and try to stay within the vibrations, usually all with my eyes closed. But then sometimes I test it. Yes. And once in a while I find that being out of alignment just shifts the vibrations to new possibilities.... hence, no good or bad. Just new possibilities. Hence a universe that is in flow all the time, and when something blocks or hinders, or changes the flow, it just shifts to respond, infinitely so. A new thought, a feeling, a choice, a death, a resurrection, all just new possibilities to smile at. Hence the oh you feel guilty? cute. reaction. 

I haven't been writing much lately. I guess in my head I would like to write more. Maybe like a poem a day kind of thing. But I am in routines in which I feel a little exhausted and soothed by the lack of responsibility or need for productivity. I am feeling happier than I was a month or two ago. I think working through some things at work, in therapy, etc. But it hasn't necessarily translated to new behaviors, just new ways of responding to the same old. Like laughing at everything again. Like recognizing I don't need to attach to wounds, mine or others, like acknowledging these feelings have a place, but not giving them the whole room.  I find myself in the same patterns, but they don't feel soooo bad. Would I like more? yes, but I think I am shifting my inner vibrations first. 

When it comes time to write every day or week, I just don't seem to have much thought out to say. Maybe I am spending all my time distracting myself instead?  Maybe watching Netflix and playing games, and that classic vice have all removed me from being present in my boredom, my restlessness, my sitting in a room each night for 5-6 hours while the world passes me by. 

I dunno. Just haven't felt like actually writing, though I wish I had something to show. 

Life goes on

I took the day off work so that I could take my licensure exam. Passed. I should be an LICSW in the new few weeks. This gives me a bit more freedom in what kinds of jobs I want to take, and the possibility of taking on supervisees after a bit. It also means I don't have to see my clinical supervisor anymore, even though I enjoy her input. 

At our last session, she was asking me about and describing the use of intuition and empathy. How for her (and me) it is gift from G-d (we talk about this). But for her, she recognizes it within a different cultural context, in which these gifts can be discussed openly, and for which she doesn't have to assume any responsibility. 

While we were talking,  I had this felt memory of feeling the blessing of it, the magic of it when I was a kid and a teenager. How I could empathize or name things for people and suddenly their life changed. I stopped using it solely that way in college, started to rationalize and intellectualize the shit out of every decision I made, because I had realized that it could just as easily be used to hurt people. Though she didn't mean to, a friend of mine confirmed this. How tricky this responsibility. But the feeling of it, felt like I was channeling through me. It wasn't me, but wow... and how not to grow an ego?

I don't know.

I stopped believing to some extent (other than the rationalizing of it), that I was worthy of such a gift. I'd hurt too many people, and believed that I needed strong boundaries around myself to ensure that I wouldn't hurt others. My intellectualizing, pursuing knowledge, etc., although totally stimulating to me also had the effect of justifying each use. I replay them in my head, to ensure... 

My supervisor told me to stop. She basically said (I always paraphrase) 'I know you have a strong faith, but why don't you trust G-d with that gift, and stop blaming yourself and gaslighting your ability to channel.' She role modeled, 'you just say "I'm seeing _________, does that resonate with you?" and let them have their reaction, don't try to control, don't manipulate just let it be." 

A tall order. In the moment I felt this sadness, this grief for all the years of not believing... vowed to myself to address this, to be more open, to let go of my desire to control it all...

Could be dangerous. Could be a new beginning. 

I will be an LICSW, what next? This seems to have been the goal of the last 5 years, what's next on my agenda?

I was reading M's Dads' blog. WHY? I dunno... I just do. In our relationship, I always felt a little insecure and possessive. It only got worse in some ways after. I wish I responded differently to lying and deception, it would be nice to stop and go "Oh, I don't like that. Bye." but instead I respond with "why would you do that, what is it about me? or you? or how can I figure out how to get you to not do it? or if I am aware enough, maybe I will figure it all out..." 

But I am delaying... I was reading his blog. 

He mentioned his daughter was involved in a shooting. The tone of the blog let me know the family was ok, but what impacted me was that he said she was married. I didn't think first of the kids, or her, or the terror of it all. I got hung up on the status. Maybe because its so removed. Maybe because it was confirmation of the thing I assumed. Maybe because I just didn't want to picture the kids in harm's way. Yesterday I was thinking about how old they would be now. These kids I had wanted to hold on to for the rest of my days. How their introduction to the education system would have been so bleak. How their mom had stayed home with them, like I had once considered. Fond memories of making legos and puzzles, and painting. Little school lessons. I felt grief over their loss of school, but I can't... The idea that they could be injured, isn't really something I want to think about. Even now when I am considering it, I can't. Hung up on status as a defense mechanism because my heart. I wish them all well. 

Considering what it means to have someone new in my life. Do I want this friend? What does she offer... Is it more of the same. Trying to interpret the little cues. Trying to figure out what I want and what is too much to expect. What do you do when your heart delights in a part of a person, but their life doesn't match up with yours? I don't think I am supposed to go around collecting people, hoping they'll stay some way that I saw in a glimpse. I don't think that is real in the long run... but being honest, communicative, gentle, appreciative. I can do that, and see where it leads. 

My Dad told me he had Covid a few months back, that time he was using an inhaler. That time I was worried he'd get Covid because his lungs were already hurting. Could have been a false positive. I took a covid test yesterday. He is still considering getting the vaccine. It was funny how it was a relief to me, because I'd spent a day and a half wondering how to protect him if I had it... and then found out he might have protection already. I dunno. The whole thing has been weird and shady. He didn't want to tell us because he didn't want people to treat him differently or say "I told you so." but also his lack of honesty is demonstrative of how ridiculous it all is... what are we doing?

What next?  No really...  This morning I was inspired to clean my apartment, clean my car, go for a walk, organize and grocery shop, but now I just want to do nothing. What next in work? In social life? in bucket lists?  I have these ideas of painting and sculpting, but it seems like a hassle. I have this idea of little steps to create a social life, but...  The test is over.  I told myself once the test was over I could consider writing again, or going on a long trip again. So, I guess it is back to these things? or maybe a new career? Maybe an ayahuasca ceremony?  Maybe I should start a farm... new possibilities everywhere. What do I want next? Where is the universe guiding me to?

I've been wondering about the spirit guides, maybe I need some help.

Listening to this TED talk now. 

I was reading this book today, and wondered if I need to change my life mission slightly. I feel like I have spent my life trying to "help" people by supporting them, problem solving, trying to plan or figure out the future (EG teaching in many cases). I think though I didn't realize it, I was trying to keep people from experiencing suffering. Hoping that by being there to support and validate, teaching strategies, brainstorming new ways of doing stuff, the suffering could be diminished on both an individual and societal level. I was trying to create a "better" future, hoping that things that had caused suffering could be eliminated *both consciously and unconsciously, I guess I thought if I could get all the knowledge and share it with others, things could change. My youthful ego and naïveté? 

I think I am in a later stage of life...and have to switch my mindset to recognizing what I have always known, but secretly hoped I could divert, which is that life will cause suffering (always), and that that isn't a bad thing. That even the moments of suffering and pain can have purpose, and that we shouldn't be avoiding them or trying to ignore or deny them,  but experience and grow from them. 

I have known this, but some part of me is always trying to avoid or undermine it, to rip it away, convince everyone that pain doesn't have to be suffering... but suffering is meaningful. It causes us to grow. To think and reflect. Pain... that's just a nuisance. Here one moment and gone the next. 

I think I have to mindfully take on the mission that actually suffering is good, is an opportunity for people to find their meaning, and to hold out belief in people's ability to do so. Which is damn painful.

Every day at work I see people suffering, and sometimes I lose faith that it is worthwhile. The same with our society... so much needless suffering. But I guess we really do have to lose it all in order to get our heads out of our asses. 

The suffering of this last year, did almost nothing to change us... half of us stuck our heads in the sand, the other half ignored the idea of a pandemic and made it worse. Nothing new has come of it on a societal level. 

The book talks about how suffering is one of the ways people recognize the truth, that G-d calls us to him through all things, including suffering, and that when we finally see that (though it doesn't diminish the pain), it at least ends in hope. I have spent my life time knowing that suffering is part of life, but hoped that I could make it easier... but maybe sometimes it shouldn't be. G-d works in mysterious ways eh?  When I am suffering I pray as much as when I feel awe... its those times in-between that I struggle to remember, so maybe I need to bring back that slogan teenaged Mike used to say "it's all good."  And get back to believing it -though I have continually been beaten down by the merciless nature of the ways we choose to bring about our suffering... perhaps this is what we need? 

I dunno. Maybe I am not fully there yet. 

In any case, I need to stop being afraid all the time. 

Jeremy Enigk and an edible

I am high. Gummies from a friend. Watched Norm Macdonald. Genius. The inner sensation is of suddenly making connections, some cosmic touch (sistene chapel) between distant points, some bridge. Its force pummels the inside of my chest, a slightly knocking, a warmth,making room for new. Its moving. The visual is like galaxies. And inside I know it is the neuron’s buzz, the flare down the tree of synapses. 

 

I am listening to Jeremy Enigk, the layers of the composure, the delicate cake, ah these complimentary tastes and textures. 

 

My memory is short and lost. Over time this would be awful, but in small doses I am aware of the moment and then the moment is gone. I am pleased with it. Each little pain and bruise, is momentary, I can welcome it. A missed note screech, a scratch fire,  a pushed capillaries of pressure… all of a flash and then replaced with another, the neural dance. So many connections in each second. Each tiny little vision, mystery solved, there is a burst, a new big bang, and if this is going to be the way of the world, and the human is to last then, this is the piece we need to see. To really understand. The distal patts, are not so distant, this is the simple reality of everything this whole loose connection is the map of Gp=d. maybe we cannot be near untruth/.

 

Put my head down and don’t ecen look at the keyboard. Listen to the music, let it flow through you and thr words, will be the truth. Evem if the origin isn’t understood. Listen to the music and get in rhythym. Ths will be the thing that is right. Bit when you aren’t doing it right, everything wont work. 

 

That was weird, suddenly I lost it. And wasn’t high. I had like a thirty second cool breeze of sobriety. Not sure if it was because I was onto something or because the music through me off, but the flowing warmth is back inside my body. 

(Written a few hours later)

It's really funny how some things are confirmed by drugs. I wrote a little post about how I am a caffein addict earlier on insta. On caffeine I feel have greater access to my faculties. 

When high, I have access to different faculties. I feel the sensation of an incoming text before the visual confirms it. I feel the little pricks, the little vibrations, the waves of energy. I notice their confirmation, their absence. I listen to music, and can my turn my focus to notice the parts, the moving composition, that dance of impacts bombarding the dimension... and it only confirms what is beautiful, adds a glow to the already special, rests easy within and without, perfection. perfection, a polished mirror, and a smile's confirmation that this is a true representation of the 1 in all. universals approval, universal acknowledgement of that which all things know, the one to whom all voices sing.Could you bathe in this heavenly, when every note is an interwoven silk supporting you. caressed by ehuphia, praise this ecstatic. 

Another hour. So many little connections, it becomes overwhelming. Somehow I got it in my head to look at old photos, and all these little memories, these little stories I told myself so long ago flooded back. And even in the moments I wasn't present for, I remembered the story, the lie I told myself? Or was it that I did have some knowledge, and perhaps all these flights of imagination I've had are true? on some multiverse or other, perhaps I have this understanding. Perhaps in my every day life, I get stuck because I've lived in too many realities, and they have built and cluttered. I remember these memories, these parts of me suddenly, and wonder how their brightness could have faded, wasn't that another life time? How was it's prominence shifted without my approval.

Another hour? I feel like I am slowly coming down. Moments of clarity become longer and longer. I don't know which to cling to. I am listening to the Empyrean, I am thinking about the infinite possibilities in a line going on infinitely in each moment, and how to accept each moment good or bad, is just to recognize it has its place amongst the infinite possibilities. Oh your mom died? One of these possibilities was bound to contain this, but infinite others do not, she lives on. Be grateful. 

All those layers, weighing, the carrying of emotions across lifetimes, and dimensions, the tethering of it all... what need to be seen, to be known, to be accepted, to be let go. 

It feels like a late phase, the dissolution, where what had once been, comes apart. How brutally painful this disconnection, and to each a portion of the suffering. 

To be comforting and comforted

Part 1(written at work):

I haven’t been writing lately. Not sure why, maybe just that nothing feels settled, and then when it does I have no need to record the trappings. Maybe a little less satisfied with my own revelations. At therapy last night, my therapist confirmed that she is a little intimidated working with me. She said some things that I had already assumed might be true such as that I may have to get angry and work through it with her, that I would need to practice being more upfront and honest (risk hurting her feelings), that perhaps I could try wiping the slate clean and coming to her less a know-it-all, and more, just living into the experience.

She used the words processing in the overthinking way, and suggested maybe I need less of that and more being present in the experience. Sometimes I find it boring to sit still.  It makes me feel restless. Other times I can be very mindful and experience all the things, I prefer to do this when I can be grateful for them, curious, fascinated… but rarely do I turn off the thinking that accompanies it.

She doesn’t get me yet, she is still trying to figure me out. And it is difficult for me to sit with that knowledge, and recognize that just like me, she is working through it through her own lens, which is not accurate to my experience. It’s a slight distortion that will impact things. But she is a little unsure, she is picking up something from me and it puts her a little on edge, and she wonders if I am ready to let her have control...  and I am not.

Work has been particularly unsettled. The stuff with the leaders reignited the drama behind the scenes. Those who remain, are worried but trying to move forward. The staff on the whole has low morale and high compassion fatigue. We only have a few handfuls of kids but their tiny little tantrums are throwing everyone off. The therapists are all experiencing a little burnout. I want to play the wise old man, but there are times I can’t rely on others to pick up the pieces. I need to slow down and accept people where they are at, but this collection of our bent and trembling fingers is an odd shape for a container. We are seeing the limits of our abilities very early on… and wrestling with the disappointment, the grief of that knowledge.

Is this what I want?  More and more I recognize that it isn’t. Not so much that my heart can’t hold it, or my mind can’t conceive it, but that my life won’t sustain the effort. The work can be comforting, can give a sense of purpose, but more often than not, I feel challenged in ways I don’t appreciate, and unmet where I wish to be challenged. It is life handing me a plate and saying “here do this” and I have always been a picky eater. What will I gain from this experience? I wonder. The challenge of slowing down, or accepting my strong voice, of holding boundaries, of pushing expectations when I don’t know that the other person is ready for this challenge?  It is very opposed to my nature. Maybe that is a good thing. Maybe I keep taking on these efforts for a reason. Maybe it is important to know how to play a role even when you don’t have assurance that it will work. Be the cog, not the master of the machine, play your part. 

Everyone has different ideas of what I “should” do, but what am I called for? Where is my alignment, I don’t know. I know that when I step in the building I feel a sense of overwhelm, not of creativity and joy. I don’t walk in feeling excited usually. And I don’t get to be my whole self. What would happen if I did? I’d be shut down, just as the kids are. The job requires self-regulation, boundaries, a recognition of the big picture AND a willingness to act.

This morning I was thinking the reasons I dislike the yellow painting (and T did like it –other than trying to cheer me up), is that it is the solar plexus, the action chakra. I am the one who sits and controls by inaction, and it scares me to act impulsively. Thoughtful planning, intention, forethought… that’s my jam. Heart, seeing, grounding… I can do that. But action, no. Action gets poor results when not thought through.

Grief and loss, and the changing of the seasons. Dance with me, I sing to myself as I stare at the trees blowing in the wind. I feel a fantasy creeping in, a dreamlike stare transfixed on the movement, seeing in it all things and nothing. I wonder if that is what I am like, a collection of atoms to project upon. At my best, I am part of the nothing, but everyone and their mom is telling me to take up space. To be the polished mirror that is my true self in this life, don’t skip the steps. Don’t be too eager to vanish, it will only hurt you and those you love. Sloth takes many forms including invisibility, and the avoidance of the hard truths.

This job doesn’t fully serve all the needs, so where can you find some resolve, some connection that encourages and expands life?

Or maybe this is not the season for expansion, maybe this is the season for letting go, falling away, accepting the loss. Maybe this is the time to gather, harvest, pull it all in tight around you, even if it wasn’t an abundant year, there are still blessings, there is still gratitude. 

Part 2 (written at 10:30):

Everyone tells you things, just not in the way you want to hear. The students you are most proud of for their growth, will have a regression out of nowhere, a way of saying don't let go yet, I have work to do and need your help. The kid throwing a temper tantrum, saying that they don't yet have the skills to handle their overwhelm, can you hold this?  And it is all good, it is all ok to sit with, as long as you don't hurt anyone else... but as Fiona reminds us: "evil is a relay sport when the one who is burned turns to pass the torch." And how else can one describe these traumas not yet resolved? I work with a lot of externalizers.

Today was an odd day of walking the line. My students need to be held accountable for their actions, and not just given understanding for their miseries. It is a both and... more complex than anyone cares to acknowledge. How can they hold themselves accountable? The adults in their lives never did. 

The day left me feeling drained. I got home, ate food, neglected to do laundry or go for a walk, went to bed around 6:30??, woke up at 10:00 PM full of thoughts about work. This is not role modeling the self regulation that we ask for... 

It seems to me that we are asking for/demanding actions that the kids are not able to fulfill, like in a school environment we are scaffolding them to their better natures. But that is not necessarily therapy as it is often not a choice, in the moment. That is where the tension is... holding them to account - while also trying to remove ourselves enough to support them in processing their behavior and actions. I am not sure I am a "good" therapist... I ask very much of them, but also sometimes do their work for them. But why would teenagers be ready to do anything other than what I am saying... they don't have the inner motivation, they don't have the experience, and no one in their lives (who they would listen to) is willing to coach them through the steps of growing through pain, rather than avoiding it. 

Why would anything change? And if so... why stay. You've done this before, you know its a long slog... its a good role, but is it your role?

Part 3: 

I was thinking while half asleep that I need a poetry prompt book, and need to sit every night and write something out. Poetry more than journaling, more than other things in general actually holds weight for me. Even the poems I write that I dislike have a memory or an insight to them that I don't necessarily get from journaling. I woke up thinking about ars poetica (a poem about writing poetry), and wondering if I should do one with my students. Today and yesterday I was comforted several times by old poems written throughout my decades, and kind of amazed that I both knew and didn't know their power at the time. Some sort of magic. 

I've been finding comfort in Netflix and old vices. In some ways, both remind me that there is a world beyond my own, and in other ways allow me to escape in ways that I am not sure I should find comfort in. What does it lead to?  I am more messy than I let on. There are things that would actually make me feel better -going for a walk, getting my laundry done, cleaning the apartment, journaling, writing poetry, connecting with a friend, finding actual love... but I am vegging out eating cookies that give me stomach aches, and watching tv. Everything feels so familiar, like I went through it 2 decades ago, and it bothers me how little I've changed despite changing so much. 

I am telling myself a story of who I am... and lost in it again. It might be time to go travel or do a silent retreat, or eat some mushrooms. 

what is it that looks?

 Anna Brown asks, reminding us that we are not our thoughts, feelings, even sensations, we are the thing that acknowledges those. 

What is the thing that recognizes that I am looking at the screen?

thats the real me, and I have the choice in what I pay attention to. 

This weekend was a good example. 

I was sort of dreading seeing a friend I haven't seen since covid began, worried about not having anything to say, not feeling connected, not feeling like it was worth my time. I went anyway, had a fine time, realized I probably need to see this friend more so that this isn't my narrative.

Took a different route home, saw new things, enjoyed the scenery.

Ate at some places I used to go. 

Went back to my stuck routines. 

I woke up this morning and wanted to go back to bed. This weekend I had multiple dreams in which I was in conflict with people because I couldn't communicate well enough to get them to understand. I woke up cranky, feeling depleted, wanting to go back and reverse the situations... I didn't want to exist, had nothing to wake up for, felt fucking dismal. I went back to bed without coffee or head ache meds, and woke up again around noon. I grabbed coffee, went for a walk with my Dad, felt good again. Went to target, did laundry, made dinner, shaved (first time in months), did the dishes after dinner. 

Such major shifts in my mood and thoughts. And what is the difference?  coffee, yes, but also, just what I put my mind into. 

I keep thinking about how I need to change my mind set around dating and social life. That if I live into my anxiety, it will depress me, whereas if I do all the things "I know I should" then everything will be fine. Everything is fine. I am just... paying attention to all the wrong stuff and then judging myself and my circumstances based on that. But I can choose differently.

We shall see if I can remind myself this week. 

I am trying to work out more and told myself no dessert until you work out. I need to be more deliberate in my actual life. Apparently the tarot reader I am watching agrees. 

Spoon Theory, CBT, motivation, pleasure, finding self in the larger world

It’s hard to change patterns. Especially when they challenge your core beliefs or values. Or when you aren’t sure what the outcome will be. Or when you are just too fucking introverted and introspective to not overthink it.

I’ve been getting feedback from bosses at work that they know I am more capable than I am demonstrating. I haven’t necessarily known what to do with that. There are reasons I pull back, and then other times I share too much and people give me a look like “damn, you’re too much.”

If I can’t sort through my thoughts first, people usually end up more confused… too many ideas and feelings at once, and they often ask, what they are supposed to do with the heap I leave on their door step. At an annual performancereview on Monday I got mostly 3 out of 4s. I suggested I am reluctant to step up more for two reasons: A) I don’t really want to care-take my coworkers –an experience I felt like I was starting to do the previous few weeks, because most of them are younger and I see their shit too clearly when I ask. B) I am worried about stepping on the toes of the folks who are technically supposed to be doing the work that I am feeling called to step up in. For instance my newer coworker who is managing the Mental Health Workers. I want them to be like new clinicians, but really they are just like post undergrad first job type workers who don’t know the ins and outs of mental health. If they are curious, I could teach classes… but the impression I get is that they are only half in. Too busy, too overwhelmed, and would rather spend their time socializing -post undergrad, but still in adolescence, you remember that, right? That thing where you lose your community from college and are desperate for a new one… half of them have multiple jobs and it feels like a lot to ask.

So it puts me in an odd position where I don’t want to do the thing that is natural and exciting to me, the thing I have always done, sticking my nose in other people’s business… and I am not exactly sure what else to do… because it still needs to be done and the fact that it isn’t done raises my anxiety through the roof some days.

But is it just my core shit playing out? Yeah… if things are going less than perfect, it’s my fault. If someone is hurting or dramatic, it’s my job. If there is a system that needs problem solving, I’ll jump in… but ask me to do more paperwork? Fuck you.


This week has been odd for me. Folks are reaching out and asking to hang out. Folks I haven’t seen for months or years. I have not felt motivated to be social at all. There are only a few people I genuinely want to see. In general, I feel very much like I did a few years ago, like my friendships aren’t getting me anywhere. Like my reliance on my parents as walking buddies, isn’t getting me anywhere. Like my life time of caretaking is gonna keep me from getting what I actually want. It is all very nice to see folks, but they don’t excite me, and don’t necessarily challenge me in the ways I want to be challenged. I am stuck. That’s what I am saying. I want to have a girlfriend, a family, a community, and none of it feels within reach.

This morning another 30 something single dude I know posted something on facebook basically saying ‘if it weren’t for obligations to others, I am not sure I’d still be here most days.’ And I felt that. It’s like low grade functional depression. I can muster the energy for work, but beyond that I usually wonder what the fucking point is. Grub, TV/games, work, sleep, porn, writing, the occasional walk, the occasional chat… nothing different day after day, and the only thing with any meaning is the work. The writing and the walks support my growth, but for what?

And of course, I know that I should be exercising more and eating healthy, and meditating, and likely medicating, and that all of these things might improve my energy and motivation, but then what? More energy to sit around?

Most nights this week I have taken a nap, ate too much junk food, stayed up too late overthinking and fantasizing, and then slept in slightly later than I should have. Didn’t have much reason to get to work at my normal time because it wouldn’t matter. Maybe its summer. Maybe its ‘moral distress’ as an article I read today put it. Maybe it’s the impact of Covid, but I was here before the pandemic… and that brings me to that beginning thing.

Gonna head into therapy again soon. I know what I “need to” work on, but am I actually ready for change? Not really. All the action oriented things that might improve my situation has never really changed these core beliefs about myself and the world. All of the thinking and talking hasn’t either. Not sure what I am expecting really. Maybe I don’t need to know. Maybe that’s a big part of my issue, feeling like I should know everything all the time.

When I was bored and under performing in the past I would add more, but then just get burnt out. Investing in friends, and organizations and work, didn’t necessarily change anything for me, even though I might have had more going on. I have been proud of my contributions, but nothing lasts forever including the pride you place in accomplishments, including the ecstatic feelings, including the heart shattering.

I think that’s the thing I am struggling with socially. Its like, well sitting at home is a 4 out of 10 on the fun scale, and hanging with a friend is a 4.25-4.5, but dealing with logistics and all that? Probably not worth it.

Spoon theory? Too many spoons spent, not enough things replacing spoons these days.

When people ask me what would be the replacement, I can’t really say. I am not sure it exists anymore. I miss being loved and loving someone. I don’t want that with my friends and family. Not really. I mean, there are friends who I’d assume it would be more like a 6 or 7 out of 10 to hang with them… worth my time, but I don’t see them often because they live far away and it would be a special occasion. If they lived here and I got into a pattern of taking care of them, rapid diminishment of spoons, as has happened with some of the folks I like here.

My trip to Boston at times was really giving, and then other times it felt like a total drag.

Each night when I am fantasizing my book, it feels giving, exciting, connecting, but then I try to sit and type and nothing comes. It feels depleting.

We watched the movie “Five feet apart” today and though all the staff remarked that it was super cheesy, I was crying my eyes out. Some of that is past relationships coming up. But part of it was that they just jammed the entirety of life into 2 hours… a love affair, fear, guilt, shame, core issues. It was predictable and hard to watch at times, but it was lovely. The framing of the narrative allowed for it, people without time are desperate to pack it all in, each moment matters more… plus they are teens… But maybe I was a little jealous for my own person to live for?



Victoria sent me excerpts from this post by Adrienne Marie Brown http://adriennemareebrown.net/2021/08/19/the-darwin-variant-and-or-love-of-the-fittest/

Some of it is so relatable, and some is something to strive for?

“I have sought to offer and experience all kinds of love throughout my life. I have learned that I can love people who will still choose to leave me, to risk their lives, and I will feel grief. I have been learning that there is the big collective massive love I feel for all that lives, and then the tangible offer of love as an energy, resource and commitment which I can only give to those with whom I am in a mutual, consensual and aligned relationship.”

“And, as is my practice, when I can see where that edge of growth is, I seek it in myself. Where in my own life do I still persist in actions that presuppose my importance and supremacy, rather than accept my small role in our collective existence?”


Later in the post she talks about also centering pleasure in the discourse (author/editor of pleasure activism, a book I could never get more than a few pages into), but I was thinking that as she talks about centering and celebrating what feels good, that is one of the big troubles I struggle to share with folks. The things that give me good feelings, don’t necessarily give others the same. So how to create a relationship or community when the language of pleasure/fun/excitement isn’t mutual?



Anywho… I am getting sick of writing. Probably go veg out and take a nap.

human emotion

 

Saturday. Got coffee, went for a walk, listened to some Chili Peppers. Wanted to sing, but my voice has been shit lately. Not sure what I am doing with my life today. Want some love and excitement, but don't want to talk to anyone, avoiding drama while wanting excitement. Same old story. 

I slept poorly most of the week, had a bunch of days where I needed to wake up early, had a bunch of days where I took a nap for too long after work. 

My coworkers and I are in the middle of our own stuff. It comes up when you are in this field. I don't think people who aren't in the field understand how that happens. Our job requires us to work through our stuff in order to be good at the job. Similar to parenting except not...

Yesterday I read a silly article on numerology and went around asking my coworkers for their birthdates, everyone said it was surprisingly accurate. Mine was an 11 again, oddly accurate. 

Had a lot of good conversations with my coworkers this week, but also feel like we are slipping. Like things aren't getting done in the way they need to get done. It feels kind of yuck some times. Yesterday my coworker had the students watch The Breakfast Club, but wasn't prepared for their reactions and it felt like that is the exact issue I have with the program... not enough foresight. But again, maybe that is just my issue in life. I am writing a book about it after all... which always amuses me when people call me out on it. I am like YES Prometheus made us, not Epimetheus... but oh well.   

My family had a weird group text moment in which my Dad asked people to come over, and my Brother said no because family members aren't vaccinated, and my step sister went off on my brother. and it all felt really gross. Now I don't want to talk to any of them... even though I wasn't involved. It just felt really toxic. Too many unprocessed emotions (fear, envy, hurt, anger, defensiveness, etc) , not enough empathy to understand. 

I think the fear of another wave is hitting everyone differently. I don't think we should shut down permanently, but I also think people should get vaccinated. I think viruses are part of life, and some of us will die. The issue should be treated with respect, not brushed off, and people can do what they can, but hiding from life isn't a great solution. That being said, maybe I am speaking of my own circumstances. Maybe I am afraid of living another year in isolation. Maybe I am already worried about how my life doesn't seem on track, and shutting down seems like it would make me hide further?

Maybe I just need to join more online communities. Maybe I need to quit my job and move somewhere else before lock down? Maybe I need to get a fishing license... who knows. 

I made a student cry this week. I make her cry all the time, but it was because she was shutting down and she needed to speak, and I asked her to speak, but she couldn't. Emotional panic attacks are no joke, but they happen because we aren't expressing ourselves openly enough. I had a bunch related to M... before and maybe after, I think I might have had one during. It was a weird thing.  I heard today that the reason I dwell has to do with intermittent rewards, and sunk cost bias... both of which make sense. I don't think about her much during the week when I am focused on work and recovery. But lonely weekends...

That coworker whose energy I am starting to like avoided me for a few days last week (or was busy, but it felt more intentional), but she didn't at all this week and it was nice. I had a lot of really positive feedback from people this week. Not sure what it means. Maybe my energy isn't as dead? 

Mitski - Drunk walk home (Live Boston Calling 2017)

Just such a good fucking rock song.

Listening to her for hours each day. 

or not.... money its a gas ... what are you worth

 

You ever cross one of those economic class barriers that you didn't recognize until it was too late?

Private pay therapy is one of those. I don't know what I was thinking, but crunching the numbers for even a moment and suddenly I was like... damn I will resent the fuck out of this therapist as my bank account depreciates. 

Now I am trying to figure out why I didn't see it coming. No rates on the website, not discussed during the phone call but alluded to, these are wealthy people things... you don't talk money because you have money. You talk connections, location, maybe time.  I guess she probably falls along the line of the area that she is located. Upper middle class. I should have asked more questions, her hourly rate is more than I make in a single day. I know I don't make much... "community mental health" is the title given to my line of work, which means you don't make shit but you serve the community. 

What I "aspire" to be... class is a weird thing. Everything is weird, but the rules and expectations of class feel especially ridiculous. I often try to remove myself from all that jazz. I saw a wedding party near Lake of the Isles and they looked so fancy, but at the same time, just like normal people. I was thinking that likely each of their outfits was like a month of my pay. And if I was invited to a wedding like that? I'd feel so out of place. 

As a "therapist" or "counselor" etc... I could make what this lady makes. I have friends with the same degree that are seeking out about what I make in a day for each hour of therapy. And I guess, my assumption is that I will end up doing that too. My mom charged $150 an hour -though she took insurance. I am sure there were some folks who didn't use it. 

I have friends in other fields who make 2-3-4-5 times more than me for doing less work, less responsibility, less liability and with less schooling. 

This is an interesting situation. Some folks talk about mental health and say you have to invest in yourself, kind of like a -pay money to make money scheme. Some folks would also justify it as an investment in self. I know therapy, and I know that I would feel taken advantage of, because I have the knowledge, what I don't have is the sounding board. An accurate mirror. How much would you pay for a good mirror? 

Thinking about having a therapist and what I would say to them did change my internal thought patterns a tad bit though. I started thinking about how to explain stuff to another person. Thats my favorite thing about having a person, a partner, etc. I think to them, instead of just to myself. Eventually when I go crazy or become a fanatic, I'll do that to G-d all the time like Rumi, but for now its just my own neurosis. 

My mom invited me over mid afternoon, and the thought was like "of course I am not coming over" in my head. It made me wonder why I have that reaction.  What I came up with is: introversion, other plans (that I was counting on), worries about not enjoying myself, investing too much energy, giving without receiving, and the spontaneity bringing up nervousness.  Then I was thinking about the relationship I have with my parents, and how in some ways we are more like friends, but not drop in friends. Then I was thinking about how some people have that with their families, the stop by, random drop in, assumption of availability. 

My family doesn't mean to be cold, but we are not warm welcoming folks. Midwestern room temperature? They'll give hugs and say welcome but it's more like, we agreed to be imposed upon for this time period. I don't think that was ever stated, it was something we decided on without talking about it. Steve and Ali hate it, and they wish it was more warm. The rest of us balk at the imposition though we might not say it directly. 

I went for a walk, and to target. Every time I go out now I look around and I am envious of people. I feel like I am not part of the club. The normal life club. I am in the single and sad club of people others avoid. I don't think it is exactly like that, but it certainly feels more like that than anything else. The third wheel? The creepo? Maybe part of the reason I clung to that relationship was because it bought me a sense of feeling normal for just a bit, a poem I never finished, "thank you for lending me some purpose for a time."

The envy is gonna be the real killer of me. I will get resentful and detest people, but really I am just jealous that they seem to have an easier time of it... 'seem' of course being the right word. I don't assume most people have it easier, just different. Eriksonian stages "Intimacy vs. Isolation" perhaps riding the line of "generatively vs stagnation" and of course replaying ALL of the previous stages constantly throughout each day. 

I know most people wonder if they are normal, but I was thinking that I have rarely ever been given the feedback that I am. Love me, hate me, ignore me, but most people who have met me give me some sort of feedback that I am weird. The teens I work with have shared that their first reaction was that I was unsafe, and their second reaction in many cases after getting to know me, was that I was the safest adult. But that order is interesting. I think it resonates with my fear and the responsibility I feel to present myself the way I do. 

no mind

 

Sometimes this funny thing happens to me when I wake up late, which is that my mind doesn't do the normal 3 thoughts at once thing. It's almost like de facto meditation. I have to concentrate to think. I can just stare at stuff and not have thoughts. It's so weird. 

I don't actually enjoy it because it feels like sludge. Like I want to be creative or thought provoking, but instead I just have a slight headache and an empty brain. I end up being 900 x more passive. I just sit and watch shit on instagram or youtube, and nothing matters or makes sense. It's kind of like, what's the point?

I am sure if I lived in a monastery I would go crazy, not just with too many thoughts, but when there weren't enough. I could sit at a lake, and not feel or think anything, and then over time I would start to feel like I was wasting my time because nothing was happening. Existence. Existence is... something I haven't gotten my head around. I can do a body scan, I can send out my awareness, but when it happens without my approval, the lack, its just like.... what is happening or not happening? 

Anyway, I am having some writer's block. Considering going home and doing nothing, rather than being at a coffee shop and doing nothing. 

Saturday

Probably gonna do some fun writing today. It's been raining and it is gray out. Maybe go for a walk with pops. Maybe play some more comp games or watch HBO. Watched suicide squad 2 yesterday. It was pretty good. 

Listening to a discussion between Robin DiAngelo and Resmaa Manakem, Robin saying "I am comfortable in a racist society... 'there is no inherent loss in living a segregated life." It makes me question myself, and where I am at. But I like their discussion because it feels nuanced, or leads to more questions. 

I find it very difficult to listen to progressives these days, and I think on a few fronts, because:

    A) I hear white guilt, not love, not desire for connection. I hear fragilizing and white saviorism. I hear people virtue signaling "I am so woke" and its just a different way of flaunting privilege.  As Robin says we have to think more about "Whats in it for us? ... not doing it for them..."

    B) I am aware that I am not gonna do the social justice work that changes the system at this time. In my daily life I am not seeking out the connections and love myself... I am offering it where and when I can, but not seeking it out. In essence, I am part of the problem.  In this discussion, they talk about the difference between showing and telling, you have to be different, not just talk/cognate differently. I am not sure that is where I am at... even if its what I want to be. 

    C) I am aware that it is so much bigger than the America centric view that we often see in these conversations. People's truths are subjective, and objectively we are part of larger whole of humanity. This culture and history is not separate from the larger whole. I like that Resmaa goes back in history, reminding us that white bodies came from a brutal system in which white bodies policed and tortured white bodies far before they did it to other bodies. In this discussion, he shares that equity work is different than cultural healing (anti-racist culture). 

I am not really involved in any community right now.  I think about SoT a lot, and how we were forming something like that... but it dissolved. Will I ever be in community again? Work community? I have a desire to be closer to my coworkers, but I am also aware that the younger ones are at a completely different stage of life, and the ones who are at my level have their own stuff going on. 

Potentially starting with a new therapist on Wednesday, but no insurance coverage so... that's gonna be expensive. I am hopeful, but I am also somewhat guarded. Its also just weird to let someone new in your life. How much do I share? What is important to share?  She named it in the phone call, my inner manager is pretty on guard. 

What? desperation, more complaining

This weekend has been a funny one. Simply in my head. Nothing more or less. I played games and watched shows and movies. I saw no one. Spoke to few. The lack of air quality kept me in doors Friday and Saturday for the most part. Today I took a walk. I didn't really respond to Rachel, the one person who asked to hang out. I sent a message to Jesse talking about the desperation I felt for something meaningful, while ignoring all the potential meaningful things I could have done. I got groceries and cleaned a bit. Almost felt bad for doing too much, because something has to be saved for later, right? Did a bit of writing, and realized it lacked substance. Read a tiny bit. Considered whether I should try to develop a crush on a coworker, just to have something. It's really a funny thing the mind does, tricks you into believing there isn't opportunity, when really you've just been ignoring it. 

I spend all my time minimizing, and rationalizing, and trying to be good. Trying to align my behavior with  my values, and when I can't do just right, when I am feeling too irrationally needy, I just go home and spend all my time blathering in my head. Drama in my head rather than acting it out.  Some of the stories say Karma doesn't just depend on action, its also what you think... well in that case I am up for another lifetime of this. 

Too much sugar this weekend. Too much non-involvement in anything meaningful. But not really any consequences for the moment. Maybe in the long run, it's the lifetimes of this. Like my immortal character, who becomes bored with everything. I thought I was clever, but really I am just fooling myself. But will I awake at 40, or 80 feeling the same?  The say loneliness kills people more than the other things... so sugar take me away before the isolation!

And the funny thing is, that I could book a flight for Jerusalem or Lhasa tomorrow. Walk away from this life. I could start a new business. I could eat pizza. I could adopt a child. I could do so many things... but instead I will go to work, and likely repeat the same pattern for another week. 

"The apocalypse is boring" I told Jesse. I have so little to do, and have pared down all my stressors to nothing. Parents have real worries... I have neuroses. I am 'privileged enough' that I have lost all my substance. I could float away and it wouldn't matter. 

Pay your rent. Pay your car insurance. Turn in your licensure paperwork. Prepare for another week. 

What is my goal this week? What will make it different than the last? What could I invite in to make myself feel like I was on track to something... anything. 

No context. Or rather the context is all in my head. 

I have a half written book, and if I die the hours won't have mattered. I have an apartment full of art I made and dislike. I have bins of things I have bought on trips that mean nothing to anyone. I have musical instruments that would get more use if I left them outside my apartment door. I have a steam account that would tell you I have played hours of a game and I am still not very good at it. I have a few bank accounts that are surprisingly flush, but I have no intention of using them any time soon, and if I die tonight, I hope they would go to my niece and nephew's college and travel funds.  I have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I don't think matter a whole lot in the long run, because I won't use them to change anything big... and the world is yucky right now. 

And I could do horrible things. Or I could do neutral things. Or I could do good things. Or I could just complain and go to bed and keep doing the same. And what does it matter?

Noureen says I have an air of death about me... like I have given up. Some of these weekends... I just resign to existence. But it's not all bad. I am also very grateful for all the wonders and curiosities and beauty and love. I just wonder if I have already received my fill... you know?  Or maybe the next part of my life is about to begin, and I needed to get sick of this one, to really appreciate the new. That could be true. 

Or maybe I will get E coli or hepatitis, or some horrible virus from a lover and so G-d is keeping me from them, because I am supposed to stay on this purpose for a while longer. 

Or maybe the apocalypse is just more slow and boring for privileged single folks like myself, and that's the price we pay for not having to live in scarcity and survival mode. Boredom... loneliness. 

Jesse responded that the short message I sent her should be my dating profile, but it just reeked of desperation and even though I am that, I am averse to that in people. I don't actually want to save anyone or be saved. I want to be inspired again. I want to have hope again. I want to believe in people and in myself.  But the weather app has said that the weather is "smoke" for the past few days... and the world just isn't sitting right with me right now. There is a reckoning for what we have done, and continue to do. And I am just as worthy of that recompense. Universe, I give you my services, my body, my neuroses, and eventually all my resources. This is all I have, and all I will ever have to give.  

Another sleep

 

I went to bed at like 2:30AM

this morning I had another dream, kind of hard to shake because of the feeling, not necessarily because I remember all the details. 

There was a hotel room. Pretty sure that's what it was. Initially there were other people there, and suddenly M's identical sister was stopping by, and she seemed like she needed something. I didn't get the weird vibe I got from her in person, it was more like my clients, I know they have emerging personality disorder traits, but underneath there is a person, and that person also has needs, regardless of the odd ways they usually get them fulfilled. No,  she was present. Personable. Rational. The way M was on her good days. So I felt an almost delight at getting to introduce her to people. Getting to share the positives I know about her, the accolades without the mistrust. And then we were alone. And the need was still there. So we talked. And then, even though there wasn't any thoughts of this going anywhere, the need turned even more physically intimate. And I wanted to satisfy, to satiate, but I felt it would be a violation. And I felt myself dissociating from my body, allowing her to touch and feel, while my mind was elsewhere, and she recognized it, and asked. Is this because of M? and I said yes, not because I didn't want good things for her, but because my heart was not willing to do the things she needed. And she understood, despite her hands still plying at my flesh, like a cat pawing, stretching, kneading. But eventually she pulled away. Still grateful for my company. And we talked about what had happened, and she said it had all gone wrong, and it wasn't her fault, and for some reason I believed her this time (like I did with M), despite my thoughts racing to all the ways it couldn't possibly true... but it didn't matter because, she'd lost the things she thought she needed and now was saying, at least, that she was ready to repair. To take responsibility. To move forward. And the connection felt nice. A moment to say even amongst all the bullshit, there was something meaningful at some point. 

I woke up wanting to live in my dreams. 

I went to work. It was good, not entirely satisfying. 

On my way home I wondered what this dream was about. Maybe a bit of intuition?  (I did have a kid turn the corner at least temporarily today). 

Rarely have I had purely positive thoughts about M's sister. In part because M never really trusted her -like for much of her life. I remember the last convo I had with them together, and looking at her sister uncomprehendingly, wondering who these people are... In a lot of ways her sister is just more openly demonstrative of the toxic side. I was staring at her because she was questioning why on earth I would ever want to have coffee and get to know their younger sister. As if trying to connect or understand or be attuned to anyone else was automatically a bad thing. It wasn't a personal thing even though she was trying to get me and M to turn on her sister, it was the underlying insinuation, caring about people isn't worthwhile. Those narcissistic traits just fully on display... but in the moment and from then on afterward, when ever I remember that conversation, I just see it as a spoken bond between these twins about how they use people. "Why on earth would you ever want a real connection?" was she saying it to me or trying to cast doubt for her sister? To turn her away...  ~you see he is weak, he cares, and it will mean hurt. 

jtxdfghf

 A student introduced me to the musician Mitski today (maybe with the support of another therapist), and everything I have heard so far is brilliant. Some very different sounding albums here, live performances are fun:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22nLs0Omn-8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MS3Ul2sEXZc&list=LL&index=1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEIaBUuXDkc

summer blues

 

Not sure what it is lately, maybe some grief related to losing students, and turnover amongst staff. Maybe not having any gurus pull me from the crowd (ha). Maybe the lack of a crush. Maybe the fact that the world is on fire and the sky has been darkened every day by Canadian wildfires, but billionaires are going for joy rides like nothing is up. 

It feels a little like winter depression, like struggling to wake up, desire to hide or crawl into bed, difficulty getting motivated. I am not depressed really, just everything is a touch harder and little thoughts creep in that aren't very pleasant. 

I was supposed to go to Rachel's birthday party movie, the sky was clearer, but I went home and ate some food and decided I had enough time for a nap... and well, you know how that goes. But did I really want to go to the party? no. Was I figuring out how not to go? maybe. I was consciously putting in the effort to try to get hyped up... but...

I had a nightmare that finally woke me up  (about 4 hours later). I was in a car, speeding to get to a destination... it felt like it was something related to work, but might just have been an obligation. I was speeding down a road I hadn't been on. A sharp turn. Suddenly my car slid out, and I felt like I was not in the car anymore... like I could see it from all angles, including from high above. My car slid and tumbled and launched up a small embankment on someone's lawn landing upside down on someone's house, smashed into one of the rooms, so that the front of the car was facing the ground and suspended like that by the fallen debris. 

I was not in the car anymore. I was seeing it from many angles. Then I was on the ground approaching the house, and I could see an old elderly man (relief, oh they aren't hurt), and then a live-in nurse (Oh, they are taken care of), and then an elderly lady cry-wailing in the background (Oh my God, I hurt someone). There were a flurry of thoughts and emotions, fear of hurting others, fear of going to jail, fear of the unknown. I was crying and trying to remember what to do. I knew I needed to call 911, but it was like, they were already calling and again I could experience it from all angles. I could see them dialing the number. I could hear their discussion with the dispatch describing me crying. I was still outside their house looking in, and felt ashamed that I wasn't doing the right thing. I was trying to call 911 to report myself, but instead found myself listening to their description and nodding along. The old man and the nurse were talking, the old man didn't seem alarmed at his (presumable) wife's despair, the nurse wondered if she were having a heart attack and he basically shrugged it off. Her tone sounded like she was looking for someone to blame for all the discomforts, even though she was being evenhanded. I took comfort from the man's assumption that there wasn't anything else to do, even if she was having a heart attack, no reason to be alarmed, just keep following through. 

They finished the call, and I found myself trying to make my own. Still outside. Some part of me felt homeless, felt lost. I tried to look inside the car. Tried to find something to comfort me. A hoodie or something so that I could cover myself up as I waited for them to take me away. 

When I woke up I spent a considerable amount of time wondering why I had a cell phone in my hand, and whether that would be the thing that damned me. I do have a really hard time lately not checking stuff on my phone when I am driving. I don't know why. I usually wait till red lights, but sometimes I find myself looking at something while I am on the highway. Probably this is troublesome. 

I also spent a lot of time wondering whether I was ejected from the car, or pulled out (perhaps angelic intervention), or simply bailed out like I used to from the tire swing when it was going too fast. Seeing it from all angles, I wondered whether I hit my head, whether I had wounds I wasn't attending to. Whether they would think I was drunk. 

Speeding into obligations, suddenly cut loose, the collision of things I can and cannot control, the responsibility regardless, the desire to hide, the fear of being misunderstood, the curiosity of wondering why I know the things I do -without anyway to explain to the passerby. The way others respond, calm, accepting, wailing, pointing the finger at those who should take accountability. 

I found myself on a rather cruel joke yesterday. Rachel and I had talked about being single earlier in the week, Sat? (I don't know days anymore). But there was this amusing thought to me that maybe we are just waiting for the apocalypse and that is when we would find our people. And then the joke became something along the lines of "Don't worry single people, there will be some widow/widower that needs your support after their partner dies in a natural disaster." and "Hey people desperate to have children that don't have any, just you wait, some amazing parent is gonna sacrifice themselves for the sake of their children, and then what? Well, you will swoop in to half ass foster those children!" Life will make sense, tragedy will make sense of your present solitude. And its funny and kind of cruel, but its true right?  Life makes of itself, regardless of your perception of it being right/wrong, it just is... and we get to choose what we do with it. "Single people! don't kill yourself now, wait for your devastated future partner to appear."  And some part of me is like.... hmmm if all of us single wealthy people stopped using up resources and killed ourselves instead, would it save the world for those children and families? but then I was like... yeah but, come on... I mean were not THAT kind of altruistic.  Bo Burnham's song "comedy" in which he says "maybe I (white people) should just shut the fuck up... I'm bored... I don't want to do that..." 

My Dad asked me (over Red Lobster, living large in the retirement age), what I was planning on doing for social life this fall.  I had nothing. It was like I had been thinking about it, and came up with nothing, and then just assumed life would figure itself out, but once he asked, I just felt stupid. Like... "yeah, Dad, I am a failure at life. I have no plan other than work. I am basically giving up on other parts of life because I can't figure out how to do them."