letter

Dear -----

This is gonna be a rant. So feel free to read at your own convenience. 

 

The other day you reached out, out of the blue to send me love. 

It was really helpful. But I didn’t respond. That morning, I was preparing for what felt like would be a difficult day. Around that same time, I spent 30 minutes meditating in my office and began to cry as I thought of the suffering of all my clients. I saw images over and over in my mind, of the universe, splitting apart and coming together, collision and division, creation and destruction, but which was which, was totally beyond me. It was beautiful. Breathtaking. And hard to bear so much sadness. 

 

I have been trying to meditate more often. Getting into a good heart space. It’s odd how when I am not in that space, I am very resistant to it. But when I get back to it, I am open to the world, and yet… find it difficult to relate with other people. More on that later. 

 

On Friday my coworker who I was basically work-partners with for the last year, had her last day. She had been burned out for months, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise. But she told me the previous week, and this week we are on spring break, so it was an abrupt change. It will be even harder when we go back, we were already short staffed and so now we will have to take on additional jobs to cover for her position. On top of that, many of the students depended on her for better or worse. She isn’t a very open communicative person, so it was difficult to be partners. At the same time, we transitioned to telehealth shortly after I took the job, so without direct supervision, in many ways I relied on her to teach me the job. 

 

Her position was the Mental Health Worker -which basically means someone with a BA who doesn’t really know what they are doing. Not enough training, and they are thrown into the mix to take all the little jobs that the higher ups don’t have time for. My coworker often spent her time fixing the computer links and making sure the desks were 6 ft apart to be in compliance. 

In the last few months, I had a lot of internal frustration with her, because as she burned out, it was apparent that it was impacting the kids (and making my job harder). In the best case, she was neutral. She would watch tv and movies (day after day) with them and ask them to find examples of the skills she was supposed to be teaching. In the worst case, she was simply delaying their timeline at day treatment, not really doing harm. But how to remedy that? No idea. I tried to talk with her, but even when we created plans she wouldn’t follow through for very long. EG, students should create goals on Monday and check back throughout the week. They would half-ass the goals on Monday, making them meaningless, and she would collect them and put them in a folder on her desk never to look at them again (makes no sense, right?). The thing I found more frustrating was that she would often insist the kids had the skills to self-regulate, but without teaching them any skills to self-regulate, or coaching them into it. She would give them worksheets, but never go over it with them to ensure they understood. It was kind of like in Guatemala when they asked us to show that we could create an excellent test, regardless of whether the kids could pass it. Felt very meaningless. Anyway, her job devolved into a sort of babysitter role during quarantine, and she was never able to get it back on track even when we were back to full time in-person. 

So it was her last day, and I felt all this pressure to support the students in honoring her, while simultaneously feeling somewhat glad she was leaving. Additionally, I felt like I had to hold some of the space for her… having known burnout from a job you feel attached to, it’s an odd mix of feelings and afterwards you feel like you’ve lost some part of yourself. The push-pull of wanting to hold space, and also acknowledge my own shit, is frustrating to me. I can handle that for the kids, but I find it irksome as shit to do it for my coworkers, and lately, I am realizing that all my coworkers are all too human. We are the same as the kids. Where are the adults? No idea. T

he more difficult thing for me is managing my own anxiety, thinking about next week when I have to plan two graduations from Day Treatment (which I have not done before), and prepare speeches and get the kids ready and all that, without a partner. I want to celebrate their achievements, but I can’t encompass a year worth of growth into a 30-minute event. I don’t want it to feel like a kick out the door, but it is. I am sure it is just my little worries, and that it will all turn out fine once I drop my perfectionism. They won’t even remember the speeches, just the feel after all. But it saddens me to realize I don’t have control over that. 

 

So, then I spent the whole weekend by myself. 

Not really talking or reaching out to anyone, it was sort of selfishness, a desire to give back to myself, and also a fear of not being enough for others. I’ve found myself in that space a lot these last few decades. I don’t like the scarcity mindset but I am there a lot. What is difficult is that when I am not in it, I almost jump to the other extreme (which happened this weekend). 

 

I thought of you a lot over the weekend, but still didn’t reach out. I pictured you and your decisions, those enormous universe changing decisions, and I didn’t know what to say. Sometimes it was the scarcity, but then there were other times when I just felt like moss growing on a rock. Like, a witness to the changing landscape. I have nothing to add, life is what it is. I don’t have any responsibility to it, other than to be the moss that I am… does that make sense? 

 

Sometimes when I am out walking, or when I am meditating, I get into this weird state where everything is in its right place. I will look at a collection of different trees. Some with branches shooting straight up, others out sideways, others twisting like veins, and others hanging. And there is this weird feeling like they all matter equally. They are all miraculous, and their varying forms are what make the universe whole. The dead tree and the new sapling are all sacred. The tree with leaves, each leaf fluttering differently in the wind, each reflecting the sun light in a unique way, each bug bite on the leaf, each chlorophyll cell, each atom, everything is perfect. There is nothing to change, nothing to be pained by, except the awe. The awe is painful sometimes. I walk around and look at each winter coat, each strand of grass, each face, each dog, and everything is a reflection of G-d. It will change, it will grow and die, and each is in its right place. Each its journey, flowing perfectly. 

 

Sometimes I get scared by this feeling. Rather, I often get scared of this feeling, because I want it to last forever. 

It doesn’t. I get called back by a sudden ache in my feet, or a thirst, or a sugar level drop. I get called into familiar drama in my mind. In planning. In grocery lists. In thoughts of myself, my disconnection from others…

Sometimes I struggle to get back to it. I think, what if I just left all this life behind? Took up my monk robes. Went out. And it’s funny because I day dreamed of doing this as a child all the time, and I still do anytime I get a break. I joke with friends that if I didn’t have a sex drive, it’d be easy to be a wandering monk, following the miraculous. Staring at everything and everyone with a slight grin on my face. 

 

But I’d be lonely too. That’s the thing that often strikes me. When I am in that space, I feel completely part of the universe. I walk with my head high, I feel purposeful without specifics. I feel like I can trust in everything, that my follies, mistakes, sins are all part of the journey. Meant to be, karmically entangled to teach me of the unity of being, and so nothing is bad or wrong, just a breath in, a breath out. 

But despite being so fluidly part of the universe, a drop in the river, surrounded by every other drop in the river, I am also… sad. Mostly just lonely. I want to hold hands with another drop of water. I want to feel connected in a visceral way, even while connected in this universal… and I can’t do both. In a poem I wrote a few years ago I called it being tantalused (tantalized) but reaching in both directions and unable to obtain either. A sort of crucifix metaphor I suppose.  

When I am in my state of awe, I look around at these faces, and I assume they think I am high, that nothing I say matters, that I am a crazy person with my fuzzy face, my long hair, my piercings, my offcast gaze… they must assume I am high.  I feel high. I find everything amusing. I am high on something. But why can’t I share this high?  Why do I feel outcast in the midst of feeling everything is perfect? 

And then suddenly my mind shifts to every little criticism I have of myself, its why can’t I trust and celebrate with others when they experience it? Why am I curmudgeon who doesn’t actually like anyone? Why am I so judgmental? If everything has its right place, why do I hold grudges, why am I jealous, why am I so anxious to control… why can’t I just connect. Why do I have dozens of people whose calls I mean to respond to… but I don’t. Something isn’t right. I am not right. I must be… not ok. 

And I travel back and forth between these polar opposite feelings, but in both cases, I don’t feel the firm grip of connection. Don’t feel truly rooted nor dispersed in the universe. Caught between them always trying to reach in both directions.    

 

I had this thought that I might only have 20 or so years left. Sometimes that kind of idea freaks me out, but it was really helpful actually. It put a cap on things.  What will I do with the next 20 years? What are my actual priorities…?

 

Recently my boss asked me if I would like to apply for a different position, what could be similar to a promotion, but a slightly different track. I said I’d been considering it, but it didn’t feel right. The job would combine some of the things I like to do, create curriculum, support new staff, still do some of the therapist stuff.  But it feels like I can do all of those things without the job title and responsibilities I dislike. Even if they offered me a raise of 10k (which they wouldn’t), would it be worth it?  I don’t know. That’s not the reason I do things. 

I have a hard time imagining myself doing this job in a few years. Probably by the time I am 40, I will want to move on. For my own growth, I’ll need something different. I don’t know what that will be. Maybe monkeying around. Maybe being a monk. 

 

Is it reasonable to want kids if I only have 20 years left? Does it matter if it is reasonable? Should I do a job where I caretake others for the next 20 years Or should I go adventure some more. Should I learn to play music, write a book, keep a blog, run a community center… I dunno. In my awe state, I don’t have answers but anything that comes up is accepted. If I end up doing nothing, that’s acceptable too. If I run the course and stay the way I am, that’s fine. If I become someone new, that’s cool too. 

 

**** I had to go to work, and didn’t return to this for a few days. 

In the meantime, you told me things had changed for you?  I am curious. I want to know all the things!

 

 

Today was a weird day. I had supervision and had run out of things to say. So I told my supervisor I want to talk about the anxiety I feel around the graduations. I told her how its triggering anxiety in me, and how I have responded. And she said basically, of course, your adult-self responds effectively to that, you’re fine. But that fear that comes up, what’s that about? And I said, some desire to honor the kids, honor the relationship, some perfectionism, some desire to make everything perfect and control for everything, to do it well, to not cross lines accidentally, hold everything for everyone… and she kind of called me out on using these terms like “control” and “perfectionism” to mask the fear underneath, and mentioned that I should probably be in therapy for whatever that is.  

It was kind of brutal. Helpful, but hard. My inner little kid got sensitive. Her phrasing made me question a lot of things, and I went to one of those core belief charts and basically did a little analysis on myself. I really struggle with many of the core negative beliefs. Most of the shame/guilt, some of the survival stuff. It’s not just one. It’s fear of abandonment, of being alone, of not being good enough, incapable, unlovable, outcast, bad/evil, etc etc. I think in part, that is why it is so easy to relate to others, but also why I have a difficult time believing people relate to me. 

Anyway, it left me a little shook up this afternoon. Because I think in 99.9 % of ways, I have learned to be effective and productive and “good” at what I do. But what she was pointing out, is that’s my survival strategy, not simply because I care or am invested (most likely both). And I know this is true. I think about it a lot. It comes up every time I have to make a decision that involves another person. 

And of course, because she was concerned, it made me question everything.  Why do I do any of the things I do? Is it just because I am afraid I will be punished, outed as bad, unlovable, the worst?  If I am doing things because of these fears, does that make it bad? Am I less reliable than I believe myself to be? Am I just projecting on everyone all the time? Am I the one sabotaging all of my relationships?!? Will this fuck up all my clients?

And unfortunately… its true on some level. 

The shame is so pronounced, that I alternate between total heavenly zen (and somehow totally self-aggrandizing in it- and avoidant of relationships) to total shame-blame (and again totally self-oriented and avoidant). Neither of which can really be my true self -which I assume is somewhere in the middle and without so many hindrances getting in the way of relating to others... less certainty, more existing in relationship without so many thoughts. Just acknowledging everything is fine… not amazing, not horrible. It’s fine. It’s just as it always has been. 

 

But I think I have recreated the world that I felt as a child again and again. One in which I get positive attention for being responsible, and avoid disappointing others directly through withdrawing, not asking for my needs to be met, not taking risks to be my true self. And I think the world has responded to me in kind. Saying, yeah you seem alright, we won’t worry too much about you. 

I think I want to change this, and I don’t really know how. I think I was hoping that by putting myself in a better heart space more often, I would naturally shift out of it. But I don’t know. 

I don’t really know if it matters either.

 

What have you learned about yourself or the universe lately?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turning

 

I struggled to sleep last night, so when I woke up at 7:30 drank a few sips of water and decided to go back to sleep it was a decision that made sense. 

I woke up a little more rested but still discontent. 

The last thing I remember from the dream was arguing with the rich former bachelorette why she should still love me, we were married after all, had two children, my adventures away shouldn't have meant anything... but of course, it wasn't about me, she'd never loved me, I was just one more object she'd purchased. Nothing had value to her once she owned it. 

Not exactly light dreaming. 

The day wasn't much brighter. Gray and rainy, to be literal. I walked to the coffee shop, did a little journaling, but mostly spent the day doing absolutely nothing. 

Ate too much for dinner. 

Got lost in my mind a bit. 

Wished I were someone else and somewhere else in time and place. 

Wished I had mushrooms or weed to give me some sort of alternate experience. 

Instead I took ibuprofen for the headache and the strange dizziness I experienced from waking up too late. 

Watched the movie "chronicle" for the second time 9 years later. 

Stalked people on social media. 

Probably go to bed now, have some more awful sleep. 

9 of cups

 This weekend has been kind of weird. Very low key, but also like I am trying to avoid things. 

On Friday I found out another of my coworkers is leaving, and though in the long run, its probably a good thing since they were pretty burned out, in the short run, it will be very stressful.

On Saturday my Dad introduced me to a show called "Warrior" on HBO. So I have been binge watching it. Also, been watching AOE Hidden Cup Tournament (other people playing computer games). 

Today I chose not to respond to friends, and just relaxed. I didn't do laundry, but I am fairly prepared for the week. 

No big philosophical ideas. Nothing major...

But it does feel like I am anxious underneath. Like things are happening without my approval, and I am afraid to acknowledge them. I had a thought today that M is pregnant. It's a weird thought because I can't imagine her current relationship is working out very well... and yet, why wouldn't it be?

The only other thing that happened this weekend is that I read this erotic romance story, and felt the polar feelings of loneliness and hope. Had that thing where I was like, "of course I can just meet someone, and then everything will turn out differently."  and then just a lot of "holy shit I am no where near where I thought I would be at this point in my life, why don't I have kids? Why don't I have a partner? Why am I so annoying to myself in my own little apartment that I have to check out all weekend and watch bullshit?"   

Both of those feelings and thoughts.

Ediya says be patient. Anything can happen, and it will be fine by you. Because you'll respond with playfulness... I sure hope that could be true. 

a little heart space

This morning I woke up way too early. Like 6:45 on a Saturday WTF???

I didn't really have anything to do, so I made coffee and watched YouTube (AKA my life). 

I watched this video for centering myself 

and this video for perspective  

and listened to some John Frusciante after singing in the shower. 

Then I got antsy. People had been texting me, but I didn't really feel like talking to anyone. 

I decided to go to target (the weekly run). 

On the way I stopped and got Monkey Bread. 

It is sunny out, around 45-50 degrees, and it feels like spring. There were people walking the lake, and people sitting at Rustica and it just felt beautiful and like the world was back to normal. 

I started to have fond memories of M, and the feeling of excitement I used to have around her. That feeling of anticipation, of enjoyment in being in her presence, the possibility and hope -that feeling I had at the beginning, and really any time we hung out and she was actually present. 

I was reminded that I loved her, looked forward to hearing from her, knowing her, growing with her. And also that I loved myself when I was like that, that I loved the person I was, when I was in love. That possibility, that desire to go a little further, to push to expand. 

Of course there are downsides, there was the jealousy and the insecurity and the feeling that things were far too one-sided. But for awhile, I was oblivious to those things. I saw the world as a place of hope, and I stepped into it. 

I miss that side of me. I miss feeling like there is potential and hope. I would like to go back to the side of me that enjoys people, not out of obligation or work, but because I genuinely want to be around them.  I wish I felt that way more often.  I know I am very very likely to fall into codependency, but I am also very very sick of having to do everything for myself, I'd like to rely on someone else, and also to be there for them, instead of just me. Having a crush, or a love, makes the world feel like a better place. and its been so long since I had that. 

That was part of the trouble with M too, that it had been so long since someone struck sense from me, that I felt head over heels upon meetings her. I was dumb. I lost myself. And it felt good... for a time. 

Sometimes I worry that my job requires too much pushing, too much training, too much shaping. I get excited, involved, invested, and then disappointed because I can't manage and control every little thing. People are so complex. There isn't much we can do for them unless they want it too. You can't force someone or manipulate them into their best self, they have to choose it. Similarly you can't force or manipulate someone into loving you or providing for you, they have to choose it. 

In a good heart space, you can acknowledge that and let it come and go. Love what is. But its very hard to stay there. 

The age of everything

 

I ended up taking a day off from work. My fever broke around 2:30 AM, I remember waking up and moving without pain, and immediately thinking "this is amazing!" life being so sweet without pain and discomfort.  At some point in the night, I prayed that the universe would at least use the fever to burn away the neurons and synapses that left me feeling so stuck. 

And today it was like 60 degrees out. I took out the trash, got groceries, did laundry, made up for a weekend of feeling out of it. The world felt hopeful, felt full of potential and even though I felt a little run down and my arm still hurt, it was nothing like it had been. It was nothing like the mindset of being trapped in the winter. Nothing like the mindset of being afraid of the world. I started thinking about things I could plan now... a trip? A class? attending things? having friends?

And yes, I am sure my normal stress and anxiety will create some barriers but it felt possible. 

As the day went on, I started thinking about how I didn't want to think about work. Didn't really want to go to work. When I am in work mode, it feels like everything else goes out the window. A 2 day weekend usually gives me a break, but 3 days off  is enough to pull me from it. I start to feel a little resentment towards work, not just the anxiety of being prepared, but an actual disgust at giving up life to do a thing however meaningful that doesn't really change anything for my life. Work is so funny. 

I think 3 days off is enough to awake me to the world, remind me nothing is wrong except that we are fixated on the wrong things... and so running back in to my work to reassure children who are growing up in a sick society that they are ok, seems silly.  Yo, is this what you want?  then change it. 

But I guess the time off is also enough for me to shed light on my own reality, is this what you want? then change it. 

Its so easy to go on YouTube and find a million people who know things better than I do... I am not the teacher anymore.  And similarly it is easy to find people being creative. If I compare myself, then nothing is worthwhile. In the age of everything, what is worth doing?

Today I watched a video -the settling plans for Mars... they predict they could have a hundred thousand people there within a 100 years. At first, it seems wild that anyone would leave... but I imagine a billion people will want that feeling, that feeling that what they do matters in some way. 

Eastern cultures have gotten so much better at calming this issue. Go with the flow. Know your place. Recognize the universe is creation AND destruction. Work well and in your next life you will be rewarded.  My day to day is so minimalist that I have a hard time enticing myself out of bed. If I wasn't a coffee addict, I might sleep forever. I was bored today. It felt good to be bored. It made me want to go to a coffee shop and read and write. It felt like I was being invited back into the world. 

Rachel just texted me that she is watching people on YouTube play geoguessr and was like what the hell? And I responded that this is life now. 

Things I was considering taking a class in:  

kundalini yoga, tantra, eastern medicine (one of the forms)

ACT, ART, EMDR, Brain spotting, somatic experiencing, 

UU theology, pastoral counseling, 

Its funny because when I was in my last program I routinely thought about how the program wasn't giving me the things I hoped it would. I wanted more social time, wanted a romantic life, wanted people to discuss big things with... the program didn't provide those, the people did. But I was too anxious and too stressed to invite them into my life -or did... and it didn't end well. 

All of these things are more of the same. More of Mike pursuing his own passions... but hoping that others who share these passions might like me. Some of it is more physical based. I think I need more meditation and more physical exercise in my life. These are things I might need the structure for, in order to make habit. 

I wonder if I woke up and listened to like Alan Watts every morning or something if I would feel better. 

Gonna go do some reading... since I know nothing. 

trade offs

I really like remembering my dreams. One of the reasons I like to sleep in is because I tend to remember more of them, be more aware when I am having them etc. But over the last few years it feels like when I sleep in, I almost always get headaches, and feel out of it most of the day. I struggle to multitask, I can't think and listen to music at the same time, I can't focus as easily, ya know.  So today was one of those days. 

I got my second dose of Moderna vaccine today, and went for a walk. My mood got worse as I walked, and I started arguing with M in my head, almost just to have something to think about. Eventually I turned my music off and prayed a bit as I walked, but I definitely felt off. I broke plans with Illy, and took a nap. I ate a bunch of dairy free ice cream, and vegged. James and Maddy called. It was nice to see the niece. 

I don't know if I will have serious side effects this time. My arm is starting to feel sore, but mostly I am just aware of my melancholy. But if I think about it, this actually started Thursday. 

On Thursday after work I was really grateful and proud. I felt like I was blessed with this opportunity to be part of all these teens lives and see the wonderful things they are doing. I started thinking about how grateful I am for things in my life, and considered my relationships. 

No, I am not happy with the quantity or quality of my relationships lately, and a little sad that I broke plans with Illy... Im a little worried I am having social anxiety to a much stronger degree than a few years ago... but whatever... I was grateful Thursday.  One of the things that really hit me was the relief of my dad getting his surgery. The relief of knowing that he would continue to be part of our lives and not slink away into his isolation. Presumably the cochlear surgery will be life changing. I don't want to get my hopes up too high, but a few years ago he was scared of doing it, and there was a great relief in just knowing that he chose to. I have a lot of family members who are very stubborn (myself included), and our fears are rationalized into these decisions that hurt us. It's been sort of awful these last few years noticing my dad was losing his hearing significantly, no longer wanting to be out in public, unable to participate in group discussions etc., but presumably, or at least hopefully, that will change. There will be a time of adjustment, but they predicted he could regain up to 50% of his hearing, which would mean he could hear his grandkids and his kids and his wife, and his friends again... it would mean that if he takes care of himself he'd add a decade to his life, and be more happy all the while. 

The fear that I rationalize things (and that I don't let people who care about me argue me out of these stubborn positions). I've been trying to think critically about myself and how much of my life is lived in this stubborn narrow framework. I am not sure if its because I know myself and like these things, or because I am afraid of everything else. 

When I was with M, things felt more possible. When we broke up, I returned to my old habits even stronger. Not that I wasn't doing the same stuff, but with a partner I was willing to step out a bit more. 

A student told me this week that she hopes I am less regulated when I am around my friends and significant others. She said it was hard to trust me or get to know me. I get a lot of that from the kids, because I intentionally don't talk about myself (therapy is about them, after all). But this last year I haven't had much of a self outside of work... 

I dunno. I guess I often feel like I am this one set of things this box of traits that people appreciate -a good listener, a thoughtful person, a good problem solver, someone that can be relied on for big things... and all my other stuff is saved for me or is used to keep that side afloat.  

That dream last night about the poetry book, it was like I was trying to tell people I am more than just the one thing, desperate for them to see I had value outside my work. To prove to the critics...

I meet a lot of clients who experience this too, suddenly they realize they are in a role, and they aren't sure if they even like it.

When I moved to South America I had that for weeks, I wasn't a teacher, what was I? why was I worth talking to?  Thats sort of my life...  and I am not sure what people are like outside that. When I am in a good mood, I can see each person as complex, potential and history, possibility and functions, traits and ego, soul and heartache... you know, each person is a masterpiece. But when I am not in a good mood, I feel like everyone is the same. People don't really stand out too much. Thats part of why I don't have many crushes.  And its hard for me to imagine how anyone would see me as anything other than my caretaking traits, since that is all I let people see these days. 

M saw me in my job. She saw how I was eager to support her. And then when she had to deal with the me underneath she didn't find it all that attractive.  But of all the people I've loved, that's pretty much been the same way we met. Caretaker Mike.  Jesse might have been a little different because we met while traveling, but for years after, she would reach out to me for advice or to complain about stuff. She needed to vent, I was always there to listen. 

I guess it is because I love this side of myself and put all my energy into it, that I can't be surprised that people don't appreciate the rest. But chicken or egg right? Did I put all my effort into being a healer because it was rewarded?  When I see brilliant artists, musicians, writers, etc, I get jealous. I get a little envious of people with other gifts, but they put all their time and effort into that... and I put mine into being able to read and understand people and listen. And I am good at it. It's natural, but I have put thousands of hours into being better at it. I am still learning, but I've never had anyone be like "Mike you suck at this job" or even "mike you need some significant improvements." other than in paperwork and boundaries which I understood (due to anxiety and burnout). 

So now I am good at being a therapist and sometimes good at teaching... and people don't really want to date a therapist, especially when that therapist is also super picky, and weird, lives like a monk, is critical of everything, and has kinks that make the average person gag. Or at least that's what it feels like. 

I was thinking about how KT liked me for my poetry first. Never anything romantic between us, but it always felt cool to be appreciated for something else first. I've experienced that very few times in my life. Most people have met me through education/therapy/helping. 

I really wanted to try on a new set of skills, a new role. I am still hurting over the idea that I am not a father. I mean, I've been a surrogate father figure for like hundreds of teenagers at this point, but I don't have any kids to experience the full picture. I don't have the challenges to my own ego. I don't have the push/pull to expand myself for them, to attend sports games I have no interest in, or learn about their passions, or play dolls or  just whatever to show them they are loved. I don't have the kiddo waking me from my dreams.  I don't have the kiddo waking me from my irritability -the chance to practice forcing myself into gratitude. 

I am 37. There is a pandemic. I have lost most of my community. Neglected my friends. I have no relationship. I am good at my job, but have no reason to pursue forward except my own frustration and boredom.  Money wise, I am fine. The only thing of my own that is significant to me is my writing, and I have not pursued it, because it is mine alone and I don't have the motivation to push myself. 

Sometimes I think about quitting this job. This job I am really enjoying, just to force myself to be a writer. I think I would have to downsize in a lot of ways. Maybe start living in a van or something. Move away. I fear I would regret giving up the longterm stability, the same way it sometimes irks me to think that despite being really good at my job, I am still a beginner in the field. Some folks are at my same professional level despite being 25...  second career woes. Giving stuff up to travel woes.

My my parents are all at retirement age. They are in this place where in a traditional culture they would be revered for their wisdom, but instead, in all cases but my Mom, they are being pushed aside to make way for younger or different. They are each finding ways to tackle that challenge. But it's weird to me to feel like I am setting myself up for the same future. Would I want my mom's role?  Will I adjust and move into something else? How will I adapt?

I watched a short video last night that was sort of the math/science version of the same old religious ideas. This sort of thing always make me roll my eyes, how western thoughts reinforce the wisdom of thousands of years of eastern cultures, but have to rebrand it and call it their own. We are so Colombian... colonialists, imperialists, teenagers... 

But anyway, the video was about reframing the universe as points of consciousness combining in various forms, and argued that each living thing sees these forms in the ways that best propagate their species. So a cat's universe and our universe might look nothing alike, as each is just connecting various consciousnesses and adapting them for their own needs. Maybe plants and food and the sky looking nothing like what they look like to you or I. 

None of this is all that different from the idea that consciousness is bigger than us, and we see it from our perspective (as all eastern and most mystic, and indigenous perspectives would say), and that symbols are not universal, but that once they are established as symbolic they create connections, eg language and how it shapes the universe, rather than simply describing the universe. 

again eye roll that this is obviously not new, except the guy said they can prove it with maths now. 

but how does that apply to the stubborn boundaries I am putting on myself? 

Well, the one thing the guy said that felt new, but which also makes sense and is described in most religions, is that species that see things accurately go extinct, and that those who view things inaccurately tend to flourish (IE garden of eden, burning bush, Arjuna and Krishna). We flourish when we see possibilities, when we use our imagination, when we call forth out of the ether new things that don't exist in the limits. The more we know ourselves as limited, the closer we are to death. The more we see ourselves as unlimited, the more we feel potential for growth. 

I see myself as limited. I set boundaries and stick stubbornly to my narrows, I cling to my stories, present the simplest versions of myself, hiding the possibility the limitless potential. And this is how I kill myself. By saying things aren't possible because reality is too... real. Scarcity is too true. Loss of hope is an accurate projection... shutting down all to the point of death.  And for me, I could be a new mike in any moment, open my life up, become expansive. But I don't and so I will die. 

Maybe?  I dunno. Interesting concept though. 

Dreams

Last summer I had a dream that was really similar to this. Seeing this video yesterday reminded me of it. What are the odds?   What does it mean?

2) I was teaching a class at a college. There were people staring in the windows, and I felt it was a privacy violation, so I rushed over to shut the shades and shoo the people away. The class ended, and I realized I was dilly dallying and had places to be. 

I had my own classes to attend... what were they again? 

My transcript had the class names but not their location, I was late already and I knew if I was too late they would drop me from the class and allow an alternate to take my spot. The next class 1:00pm was the only class I was excited about: Creative Writing. I rushed across the unknown campus, a maze of hallways and buildings that felt more like an airport than a university. 

I was pretty sure I knew which area of campus the class was in, but I needed the room number. I was looking for the information desk *this is a theme in all of my school/college related dreams - I never know where I am supposed to be and arrive late. There was no one at the info desk, so I ran up and down the hallways increasingly panicking, sweaty, uncomfortable. Finally I got ahold of someone at the information desk, and got the room numbers. They seemed frustrated with me for not knowing where I was going or what I was doing. Suddenly I realized I didn't have my computer bag. Where in the last 20 minutes had I let it drop? I scanned the crowded building and with increasing panic, disappointment and a touch of anger, realized I had lost my computer and would never see it again. It dragged on me... I got the information and tried to think clearly about where to go. 

I started walking towards a building, following the numbers. The building was poorly designed, so that the stair wells required leaps from each level. It was ridiculous, and all the students going up and down were international students. I realized this was a poorly designed and decaying building that was the advisory for international students who wouldn't complain about the infrastructure. I was still hounded by the fact that I had lost my computer. It was in a red bag, it would stand out. But amongst the crowds of thousands, I would probably never see it. 

I headed back towards the main hub where the information desk was, scanning for my bag as I went, and began asking around about the direction of the English department. It had been 30-40 minutes, I would be lucky to make it to the last 5 minutes of class and explain that my computer was stolen. 

I headed down the right hallway, but never found the class, instead, the crowds began to get larger, something was going on in the world, people crowded around the tvs. I didn't have time for that. Instead, I navigated through the halls, and started thinking about my next class. Something about the biology of potatoes. This class was in a completely different section of the campus that would require going outside and passing through a small forest to the agriculture center. It seemed odd to me that I would have classes without passing time, and I started to realize that I would have to drop out of every other class just to make the few I could attend. 

3) I was in a vehicle with three other people. It was like we were in a van and all the seats had been changed to make it so that the passengers faced each other. I don't know who two of the people were, maybe cousins? The third was an aunt I never really got along with. Someone who I always thought had it out for me, eyed me with suspicion. 

I was reading from my newly published poetry book. I liked the feel of it in my hands. Liked the weight, which felt like it had substance. Liked the imagery on the pages, which felt like the writing was just one of the offerings. But the words were all wrong. The poems, even the ones I knew were backwards, out of place, words were scraped along from one line to the next, massacred across the page. 

My little collections of thoughts were zombified. They were just not right. 

I read from the selections, trying my best to fill in the gaps, get the pacing right, read the muddled words that were mirrored, upside down, all misprinted horror.  

I knew there was something underneath worth sharing, something of mine, but I felt that panic creeping, that paranoia, that sweat of stage fright. 

The audience of 3 were indifferent. No signs of enjoying or hating it, but I wanted to share something of me. 

After reading 3 or 4, stumbling to read, mumbling out the mangled, I stopped, and told them what had happened. A misprint. I can't read this, but I do remember a few... I remember a few that I used to perform at open mics, and yes, I would stumble, but people would applaud. People liked my words. And if you can be patient, I can find one that feels right...