I should rename this blog- mike frantically writing down his dreams.

I spent the evening with her. The dynamic was painted in her favor, with the world coalescing above her shoulders and me attempting to do what I could to remove it, without ever actually asking why? Why do you put yourself in this position? Why do you drag me into it? Why am I of so little importance and yet always tagging along. 

In my head I play the role of caring friend, would be protector until the end... And apparently tonight was the end.

We were at a bar-restaurant. Nowhere I would choose, but I'd gone to play the role. The conversation was pleasant and surface and catching up, until slowly the insecurities and jealousies started spilling out. It began innocently, but built to become a fortress. A small slight, (you weren't able to get tickets to a show you wanted to see) became the world against you, your friends, your family, and I picture myself as a safeguard, a spillway, but the conversation left so little room for me. I fought and kicked to stay in your neutral eye, not even the positive, but not against you. 

A man approached. Friendly. You grew defensive, I reacted and sent him away. Your mind tried to solve the puzzle, and painted him a key piece. You wanted my help to escort you. You were already a mess, and frantic, and in survival mode but the idea that you could retrieve or rebuild some lost foundation by talking to this man -seemed plausible, but when I think about it, only because you asked me to be there. No one chases a pack of dogs into a back alley when they are drunk and emotional without receiving new scars. 

You said something about trying to figure out why you have no reflex to self protect, I said that you did and it was strong but only in the moments of absolute necessity. Perhaps I had it all backwards... And realized that -as you began to sniff around the dogs. 

We approached. His friends sat around -ones you didn't know. They seemed like ordinary people, not the beasts of their past lives.  You pretended to buy something, then, even though you'd been ready to go home, you bought two tickets to a later show - something hours away, and I had to push myself- reimagining hours more of this charade.

The restaurant closed. We sat in a back hallway staring at the neon glowing signs that displayed where each club and restaurant were in the building. 

The bench was at first empty, but people left the closing restaurants, they packed in, and the tension they held about their bodies was the same. People in various states of reveal, clothed in jealousies held tight to the chest or shoved in each others faces, in various states of playing the roles. The dogs circled and sniffed about. Some people pet street dogs and get bit. He had a look in his eye that promised mischief, but you thought him flirting, you thought him promising you something I couldn't. I was looking up your directions to walk you through the night and return you safely, I was looking for the boring things people do to entertain each other- when their company is all you really need. You saw me on a phone, and compared it to the glimmer in his eye, and the sparkle of his teeth. 

You turned just slightly and stood up. The beast of a man caught my eye as he assured you.  I recognized what was happening and reacted:

Physically shoving you into his arms. 

As you turned the corner into the alley I did change my mind, I looked. You were gone. So i returned to your things, you left your purse, your jacket. 

All the vulnerable things you'd need kept safe after you returned bleeding...

I woke up and hated myself for doing it. For acting with such anger. But I am pretty sure I walked away, let you be devoured whole. 

And I think the thing that made me angry was not that you were so foolish, or that I acted out, but that the combination of it all meant that in your mind I would no longer be good or neutral, but one of the dogs. That no matter what I said or did, it  was the world against you, with you hellbent to prove it by pushing me away and allowing yourself to be crushed by it. 

The physical person changed a few times during the dream, but the presence was one person. The roles were too familiar. I wonder what I am learning that I can see it so plainly.  And what I am not learning, in that I have no idea how to solve this issue. 

I've been avoiding relationships specifically because I am sick of this dynamic. I am sick of trying to be what the other person wants me to be, always thinking of what they might want me to say before I say something, never sure what to share or not share about myself because I want to be liked. Seeing in a moment the shift of the eyes that signals that line has been crossed.  If it is someone new that line is not so important. Someone old, more so. 

But also I hate my way of reacting, sulking, acting out, making decisions that hurt myself and others in the long run, because I'm unwilling to be honest at the right time... I hate being both these people. I can see this role playing out a million times over and it makes me want to hide instead of asking. 

I'm hiding from this. From this vulnerability, this push and pull of needs that can't be met, and needs for self destruction, because honesty is never a possibility, never assured at least. 

I am sick of playing the roles, so I am not playing any... Not seeking them out and irritated when they call me. 

This dream has never happened. There is not a single actual experience in this situation that is true physically. But at the same time I have never had such an honest dream that so clearly demonstrated the monstrosity of it all, and every single detail was in its right place. Which is the wrong place. 

Fjords

That autocorrected title...

I woke up at five and haven't been able to sleep.  Do you remember this?  The not quite excitement not quite anxiety...

I'm feeling overwhelmed with the idea that I can't please everyone, and also that I am never satisfied.   It used to mean adding more productive things to my plate. These last years, it's meant subtracting them.  But  I can't find my car keys, and my room is too small to contain the ever growing amount of stuff. And I need more in order to be a human on this planet.  And I'm caught again in the web of my actions being unethical - spending money I don't have on things I shouldn't have.  

I think I am scared that I won't like the social work gigs.   That I won't have any free time to be human, cuz I'll be my role again. 

And people keep asking about my haircut. Significant. 

Today

I went to an interview at an agency where they do refugee resettlement. It was nice, but I also realized that basic needs stuff/basic getting started doesn't really appeal to me. I could definitely do the job, would probably be helpful to learn the skills. Not sure what kind of impression I made, I realized I was being kind of quiet, but also giving very thoughtful and somewhat practical answers. I was really impressed with the questions they'd come up with. It was a good interview on her part.

I've been listening to Hamilton and loving it. The musical really transports you to the  world they created, though it's not quite late 1700s, and it's also not today.  Still it's universal. You cry and laugh and want the best for them. 

I lost my car keys again.  I got a tax bill. I might have screwed up with applying for state health insurance. It's hard to navigate things and it feels like my fault for not knowing. 

I think it's interesting how some people are captivating. There are a bunch of beautiful women that I see while at work, and I know nothing about them, but I am enchanted. I stare a lot, and try not to. But often when I am staring I am trying to figure out what it is about their face that is so mesmerizing. Often times I pick apart their features and in my head it doesn't add up to "the most beautiful" sometimes I even have this moment of realizing they aren't even that attractive - like someone else might be considered more cute or pretty, but nonetheless there is something that makes it hard to turn away from some people. Some glow, or curve, or color...  I spend a lot of time thinking about one. And then the next comes along and then I consider the next until the one after that... It's funny how attraction snares you. 

Looking at different paths forward, applying for and interviewing with social work agencies and community centers. I have identified two main themes: 

a) immigrants/broad community services

And

b) men's issues 

Not sure which path to pursue more readily. I think it is likely that I would move closer to whatever agency I am working with this summer. 

Been getting lots of headache lately. A little concerning, makes me feel less inclined to do things. 

I saw a post about how baby boomers were gonna retire from teaching positions... The old repeated forecast and yet before they went they slashed and burned the fields behind them, making it an impossible profession... Boomers man...

Oh    Hey there. Been awhile.

Just ran into a random dude, named K. It's interesting how easy it is to to meet people when they are traveling but totally impossible when they live here. We had lunch together and I took him to the airport. It was nice. Lots of real talk. 

Maybe I should move to Georgia. 

Dream of maybes and aging?

I approached the crowd of people cautiously, I didn't understand the rules of the game, but i was interested. It seemed to involved throwing fruit at each other. I didn't want to get hit accidentally. 

I swarmed about between the lines of people casually tossing their apples and plums from hand to hand as they waited. Then something shifted, and I realized it was too late, the game was over. 

Much of the crowd dispersed and I looked for a friendly face.

I saw a girl I recognized but couldn't remember her name or anything. A life time ago she might have been a crush, but at this point she was a shared remembrance, but I knew no one else so I plopped myself down and pretended like we'd known each other our whole lives. I was in an extroverted kind of mood, I felt energized by the crowd. I started chatting with her, she seemed to be charmed by it, but I looked down at my hands and realized they were gross looking. Old dry cracked from washing too many dishes. 

A guy came up, looking for help. 

Laurel appeared and I figured I should probably hang with her instead of the strange one. The guy said something about popcorn and I realized they were setting up for a movie in the park -kin of thing. I went with him to be helpful and figures out how to get the popcorn going. Then I rummaged through someone's bathroom for lotion, but only found hair gel. I went into her room and saw an abundance of colorful stuff, all hair and makeup and accessories. Like tons of it. But no lotion. 

When I walked back I ran into Kt, she suggested I go with her so I did. She led me to a room where some people from high school were, Ashley and hallow and Jess. They were sharing candy and other things. I contributed and they made me feel very welcome. Then things started escalating, sexual tension turned into flirting and then coupling up. 

She flung herself into my lap, upside down, it was an awkward angle where all I saw was her stomach, but I kissed it anyway. 

Her skin began to loosen, small tufts of it like tabs pulling off. And I was disgusted but I didn't want her to know.  

4:19 am

Today I woke up late, walked to bad waitress, then to spyhouse. Reread some Rumi. Re-read some only notes, stories, dreams, poems and blog posts. Listened to some girls have an annoying conversation. Wondered if maybe I shouldn't try - or rather put weight on trying to make my life or this world something better... Like maybe it's ok, and I just need to learn to live. Added to some chapters in the book. Ate dinner. Returned to spyhouse and read some more Rumi. Walked home and listened to some music, wrote some more, watched the gop debate. Fell asleep. Woke up, considered the world, my life, my writing. The perpetual anxiety of trying to make something of it all.  Want to sleep, but head keeps swirling, whirling dervishing away. 

How math ruins plans (two weeks ago)

The other day my dad started talking about a business venture, he was trying to say that it wasn't a good idea, but when he originally mentioned it he said it like it was positive -- so I tried to crunch the numbers with him and it ended up seeming like a raw deal. We discussed some of the factors that come into play, such as opportunity costs, tax breaks and tax disensentives. 

It's 4:30 AM and I am having a hard time justifying the idea of grad school. It's the upfront cost that bothers me. $42,000 for two years tuition, but also an expectation that I won't be able to work full time (and possible even part time during that two years). 

The social work jobs pay roughly equal to teaching jobs without the steps that the unions guarantee. So... Back to non-profit work in which i take payouts while the admin gets bonuses. 

Let's say the whole two years actually costs me 70,000. It's not unreasonable I've heard lots of people have that kind of debt. 

So I know in my last job I was able to save about 5,000 a year... So that's 14 years plus interest. Assume (and I sure do hope that this the case) that I have a family during this time - and it becomes double that. This is 14-25 years of paying  off monthly loans while working jobs that are incredibly difficult. This is 14-25 years without traveling, major purchases etc. 

14-25 years of the stress of obligation. 

I am lucky enough to have some money on the side that might clear this up, but the risk is that I use the money and never earn it back, basically making my kids poorer, making them have to take on the college debt etc.

The positives of the degree:

New area of opportunity/different jobs

Credentials to add to my experience

New area of study/deepening knowledge

Time with likeminded people

Investment in myself as a community member/caregiver

License to practice private counseling (eventually)

Both my parents turn 60 this year. One is struggling financially more than the other despite the fact they have the same degree(also the degree I'd be getting). A lot of the difference comes from family background not choices. 

My mother has turned her degree into a private business, she is very successful. She's been working in the field for decades and didn't start the private practice until halfway, and didn't invest in it fully until less than 10 years ago. 

I assume a lot of her success has been through building the contacts and earning a solid reputation in the field - which takes time. 

I guess what I am wondering is, is this actually a good investment. Or would my time, money and energy be better spent elsewhere? 

And how do I know? 

Decisions Decisions

Been reading the Bhagavad Gita. The other day I am sure it saved me from being mean to a coworker. Today...

Its the story of a man (Arjuna)  in a moment of great doubt concerning a decision. He asks his friend Krishna, who is also God, what he should do.  Krishna says he should act (wisely). Arjuna isn't satisfied, he wants to know how and why, he questions the path, and how he should know which is the right path. He asks about far more than the question at hand, he wants the answers to the Universe.  Krishna continues to indulge Arjuna, answering each question.

Arjuna eventually begins to question God, he attempts to do so respectfully, but he wants to know why he should trust the answers he is being given. Arjuna says "Let me see you" and Krishna allows him to see what no man has ever seen.  Arjuna describes it simultaneously as terrifying and joyous "A thousand suns exploding in the sky" he says he sees his enemies and loved ones alike being gnashed in Krishna's teeth and Krishna concurs that all things begin and end according to him, so their deaths and rebirths are already swirling in his thousands of mouths. Arjuna begs forgiveness for questioning his fate, his choices, his path and most of all Krishna, but Krishna reminds him that is why he is there... he comes to meet the faithful, to help them come to him.

A few days ago I turned 32, the culmination of decisions both active and passive.

I applied to Grad School officially the night before, with the hope that it might shed some light on my purpose.

Today

My Step Brother asked if I wanted to look for a place to live with him and Lacey told me she was engaged.

Life continues to swirl in and out of God's mouth, and I continue to question the path... the right path, the myriad paths in each stranger's eyes.  I am comforted by my small world, and simultaneously concerned that I am falling further and further into a darkness, an isolation, a place I might not ever return from.

I choose little things, like grad schools, and church services, as attempts to keep me anchored in the larger world, but I don't really want to commit to either.  I also want to ignore emails, texts, voice-mails, conversations... I want to sit alone in my room with my bloated stomach, nauseous from candy while I lose myself in mindless entertainment. I want to wake or not wake, and shuffle to a coffee shop and tapper out a story, a shifting, ever-ongoing path for make believe characters.

My mind is reluctant to clutch at shared meaning, my hands even more so for clothed shoulders.

I find a bit of voyeuristic pleasure in the faces that pass before me, but the more I study them, the more convinced I become that I don't share enough in common, that the pleasure would fade, and witness it fade as I consider it. In the moment I wonder if the path subtly chose me, or if I subtly chose the path.

Do I feel detached because that is where I am supposed to be? Witnessing myself, reassessing, considering, writing... Or do I feel detached because I chose these things over serving others?

and which is the path, and how do I know which is right, and how do I know I should trust that answer?

Most people have been reassuring me, but I often get the impression they are actually reassuring themselves. "Mike, you aren't really gone, because I don't want you to be."

Sometimes I believe them. Most of the time I don't.
Most of the time I am pretty comfortable with where I am at, I just dislike that I am. 

Generational Cycles

I was thinking about the conversation I had with Gabi a few days ago. About the disillusionment we both felt with the system and how perhaps its not so different than the generations of the past. That perhaps as a young educated 20 something with not a lot of responsibilities - a person feels idealistic and empowered and ready to take on a big mean world, and make it better... but by their 30s and 40s they've realized just how big and unwilling to change the world truly is, how heavy their responsibilities will be. That their individual impact wont be as big as they hoped. That their defeats, their mistakes, their failures have a much bigger impact on their bodies and minds and relationships the older they get.  
You'd think we become better at dealing, but perhaps like our brains narrowing down the scope of what we are capable of learning easily, our person, our perception of what is possible also narrows into the path of least resistance. We choose comfort and security because they are the natural choice for those who have exhausted themselves... but perhaps it is also naive to think our 20s will be the only time we have the energy to make change. 

Maybe we can be radicals in our 50s when we've amassed some security to fall back on?

Just don't let your pessimism today keep you from being an optimist tomorrow. I've met some badass hopeful people in their 70s.

First post of the year

Sorry it may seem depressing.

When I returned home about 6 months ago I had a sense of optimism despite the fact that I knew I would be choosing a fairly limited sort of life.

I still want that life, or part of me does. I dream of a quiet, safe, clean home. I want friends who I trust and who relate or inspire me. I want time to practice my hobbies, to get lost in them, to watch Netflix or whatever. I want a partner. And financial security and all these white picket fence dreams... 

But when asked what I lost last year, my answer was my sense of purpose. And though I want those other things, I'm wondering if I've given up far too much by not pursuing purpose rather than self protection.

I realized this morning that I'm not just cynical, I'm angry. I am angry that there are a world of problems out there with simple solutions that we don't choose. That there are ways to make life better for other people, and we collectively choose not to. That we hide our heads in the sand when facing environmental catastrophe. That we make it easier for people to self protect, miserable and lonely and selfishly, rather than reward those who choose to make life better. 

I spent 6 years trying to make life better and burnt out. Despite being surrounded by lovely people who cared deeply about me, it wasn't enough. The burden was too much and I felt it slipping further each day and lost my confidence in both myself and the system to hold it up again. And I'm not just dissatisfied with that, I'm hurt by it, and I'm angry about it.

I'm angry at our society which chooses death over life. Chooses the easy choices which devastate, over the difficult one which could heal us. I'm angry at individuals who live the way I'm choosing to right now, like there isn't something better, like caring is too hard. I'm angry at myself for wanting it all, and for needing security, for needing healing, for needing the things the system chooses not to share... And I'm angry at God, or the universe or whatever... Not because it makes us selfish, but because it makes us care and doesn't provide the solutions. The breakthroughs.  Gives us huge hearts and not enough string to stitch them back together after each and every moment of heartbreak. 

It would be ok if we were all poison, if the human race was the virus that needed to be wiped out, if we were evil monsters, sociopaths who didn't care about anyone but ourselves... But we're not. 

We're beautiful, loving, creative and compassionate... And so deeply wounded, so deeply convinced the world is sorrow and pain, and not worth the effort. 

My response was to write. I know I need to write... I want to write. 

But I also want purpose.  I want a heart that reaches instead of always hiding. I want reassurance that it matters. 

I've lost it, and I'm waiting, not patiently for it to come back. 

3 am thoughts

You could become a street performer, a volunteer, a clown without borders, a teacher, a janitor, a tutor for English learners, a protester, a writer, a blogger or vlogger an actor, a radio dj or podcaster.

You could stop fighting your body and start considering its strengths, train it, grow with it, breathe and yoga pose with it. 

You could march in the struggle, and just be a member. One of a million that mattered because together they made a million instead of one. Lost in a sea of humanity instead of always trying to stand apart.

Where your gifts meet the needs, but what are all of your gifts? And which needs are you open to?

The world is yours.

I was talking to my boss today about her other job, the business she wants to start, and all the road blocks she has run into.

Who do we want to work with, where, why, how will we make it work, who do we need to deal with in order to do it...

When I was working at my old school there were a bunch of bullshit things we had to do, but in a lot of ways we were encouraged to either treat them that way, or to find ways to not do them(figure out a better way). This meant that you could focus on and enjoy the very challenging but meaningful work instead of despairing over the bs.

In my life, things have usually just worked out. Big decisions were anxiety producing, but eventually lead to breakthroughs, opportunities would be presented at the right moments etc. a lot of this had nothing to do with me, except maybe I was prepared to say yes, or maybe I had been working on the skills to follow through. But the opportunities were usually just gifts. 

I feel stuck right now. It's ok, I can learn to accept the low level input:output, I am enjoying the time off, playing computer games and writing...

But I feel very disconnected from passion, from reaching out, from the desire to act and to open my arms to people... And I hate that. 

I hate that I don't know what to do with my lack of openness. I can't pry and push, I don't want to.  

I want to find something that seems hopeful and jump, but I don't see any green light opportunities... And it makes me very aware that much of the world operates this way daily, that life feels devoid of meaning and oppressive this way for many, that opportunities aren't given to most, that doors are shut and it's hard to pry them open when you'll just have to deal with a new set of locked doors on the other side.

I am angry that our world traps us, instead of freeing us. It would be so easy to make life better, and we have decided hardship is somehow the state of the world and reinforced it by choosing locks and fear. 

There is a certain comfort in walking, in walking in freezing rain, in feeling the wind pass through your clothes, in the dampness on your head, in the blurryness of wet glasses that block the view, in drops of ice that melt down your face, a certain invigoration, a certain adventurousness, a certain calling of old, a handful of memories, a handful of desires that claim you're not having a good time, a certain set of lies that make the world seem magical, blissful, comforting, a certain amount of truth. 

Dreams

A person long absent, is absent and getting more absent in my dreams, while I try to make excuses for why I'm staying on her couch for the first time in years.  And we are all worried, even the landlord who questions is wondering where she is going. 

Discernment

At work tonight I was chatting with a couple coworkers. We talked about ourselves and other people we were associated with.  I was struck by the way my coworker seemed so similar to the way I've perceived myself in the past, it was a strange haunting, a curiosity and confidence about people, a shared nature (that I often feel detached from now), but though I was envious of the desire to get to know people, I was also struck by the shallowness of it. Getting to know someone, like a trophy. A collected person. 

And there is that in me too. I also want to collect people. I also want to think fondly on my collection.

And yet, there is a distance now. Walls that seem natural and permanent. A disinterest, a forgetting.  A push back where once I might have constructed the bridge. 

And also there is a desire to be that for someone, a piece collected. To want to be known. 

I've been thinking about the "date" I had recently. How disinterested she seemed in me, how it was easier for her to go on about her own thoughts and interests than feigning interest in me.  And I can understand that, its the other side of the same coin. In either case, protecting. I ask myself why I turn the tables and ask questions. Is it humility? Is it curiosity? Is it just that I want the person to really care, if they are asking and its easy to prove they don't if they don't push? Is it that I am bored with my life and don't have an interest in the mundane things I could share?

I've been dissatisfied. I don't know what I want, or where I am going. I feel like I am already dead, and I have to choose a new life, but none of them sound interesting. 

I want to figure it out, but I don't really have the time, space, energy or connection I want in order to do so. 

The thing I want from Grad School: regardless of the subject,  is a time to think and process, a community of people in the same position, a period of growth and change accompanied by others in the same spot. 

Why don't I ask my friends? Because they are not in the same spot. 

I am surrounded by opportunities, that don't seem interesting enough. 

I think I am special. 

Meeting new people

Before going to meet  "C" i felt a weird mix of nervousness and excitement and also a "you've done this a million times" it's normal kind of feeling. It wasn't just my head reminding me of that, it was a felt reaction.

When she sat down I didn't get up to meet her, it felt weird like we were already planning on being friends not romantic. And that's kind of how it proceeded. Not an interview, but I asked questions, she responded. I shared a little but I didn't feel like I related entirely to a lot of what she was saying so it was more just listening and trying to understand. 

Her background and choices. Her mistakes and attempts to make them better.  Her interests and why... 

We batted around a few societal issues which was fun. 

With more time I could imagine it being much more mutual, growing a shared experience. 

She didn't look me in the eye when she talked, she often looked away, both when she was talking or when I was... So I didn't feel connection. I guess it was a lot of her thinking, and sharing it.

When she mentioned certain places, specifics, she looked at me, almost like an invitation.

When I was younger I would have attempted to be more empathetic to her situation, but as it was I became more reflective - because she had obviously spent a lot of time processing it all.

Overall I was really impressed with her insight into her own life, experiences and reactions. I've met very few people who have dealt with a lot and been able to deal so well. 

But she was also really aware of the distance that causes between herself and others. Which was kind of fascinating.

Shared interests, but not chemistry. I guess that is how these things sometimes go. 

Illusion.

I've been reading the Ram Dass book "Be Love Now"  which is part memoir and part spiritual teachings. At the point in his life that he is writing from, he describes most of his spiritual beliefs through the relationship with his guru, who is projected as being very Christ like. Always loving and serving, not trying to build power, but acting on each person is subtle ways.

Its funny how it makes Christianity more palatable for me.  The idea of Christ as a guru, an enlightened, or almost enlightened person who is simply trying to help others get to that point makes a lot more sense to me than what Christianity has become. In fact the words he uses are almost interchangeable with the words of the Hindu teachers.

Ram Dass writes that because everyone comes to his Guru with a different set of karmic baggage, they all perceive him completely differently. They talk and gossip about the Guru, exchanging stories and rumors to try to understand him better. They also all walk away and teach differently based on their own perceptions. So Ram Dass describes how he spent much of his time immediately following his first trip teaching about love from an ego based perspective, he simply wasn't ready to actually feel the love and reflect it from his heart. He could talk through it consciously, and connect to it on that level, but it wasn't until much later that he was able to open his heart, and also to teach from the heart.

He also describes how early in his own devotion, he was obsessed with the physical form, the physical presence of his Guru, but later he and others, almost preferred to be separate because their senses wouldn't be so demanding. They were able to understand and reflect the teachings better when their senses and desires weren't interfering.

Sometimes when I am reading it, I desire the relationship he has with his Guru. A loving mentor who plays many roles. Other times I am irritated with the writing because (as he interpreted it at the time) he is so obsessed with the personhood of his guru, that it feels he has forgotten the truth of the teachings. That is to say, his Guru is only his Guru because he is reflecting the love and oneness of God (the universe, etc). So when he writes over and over about the Guru, I keep imagining the man, instead of what he means, which is "God reaches out to me through this image."

Other times he clarifies, that his Guru acted out of love, because he was able to see everyone else as God (as well). He was simply reflecting like a mirror the oneness, love and compassion that is the only truth. His Guru was able to see the reality, where as everyone else was caught up in the delusion still, his job was to subtly lead them to their true self.

One of the metaphors that he uses I found particularly helpful. He describes the oneness as the ocean, and when you think of yourself in the ocean, the ocean can be brutal and beat down on you. It wants to dissolve you into it and once you are a part of it, it will be blissful. But because you see yourself as separate, life can be painful, disappointing, exhausting. The Guru then acts as a guide to help you melt back into the ocean.

He describes though that it is very tricky. Our egos cling to our form and the meaning we make of things and experiences.  We bring a cup and ask for the ocean, we want it separate. We want to hold our holy moments in our hands, so we can reflect on them, become nostalgic for them etc. Like holding on to our memories of an event rather than just living out the love of the event infinitely.

I've been thinking a lot about how I feel so separate from other people. I also feel separate from parts of myself, parts that I look back and see existed, but I've forgotten how to access. In eastern religions, I am still that, but the illusion that I am not is what causes me suffering, causes me dis-ease. It is my ego, and the fact the I cling to these disillusions that keeps me from being it, and yet... there I am.

In church this morning I was thinking of running out a little early. There is a part at the end where you hold hands with people and sort of share a blessing. It always makes me feel good, but also like most hand-holding, leaves me feeling nervous.

Its strange how much anxiety I have interacting with other people, especially considering within my belief system they are not separate.

Sometimes when I walk around the lake, I envision that each person I see is the face of God, its a lovely little walking prayer, that sometimes centers me in that love...
But I am easily distracted. I yearn and desire. I reach and question.

A few weeks ago I got excited to go back to school. It felt like the right path. Now I am questioning again. Part of me wonders if I should leave the country again. Part of me wants to be isolated and learn how to deal with myself... become desperate until I need to reach out.

When I think of the best of myselves, I hardly recognize them in me currently.
I want to feel good about myself in the way I interact with others... but I just don't feel called.

I am not wrapped up in love the way I feel I should be. Nor do I feel capable of asking for it. Nor do I feel a desire to ask anyone...

Its a strong illusion.


I wonder if this is why I feel called to Shiva and not Vishnu. The compassionate ever present sustaining growth and love, versus the much more eventful...

Dreams

In the dream it was like I was meeting aliens. There were two of them, it felt strange but not entirely uncomfortable... They were friendly, like seeing cousins you haven't see in a long time. 

When I saw the first one, I thought it was the only one... I wasn't yet aware of the other. The other had a had on or something, maybe this one did too, and when it revealed its head I saw that it had two ears sticking out from the top of its head. 

It wasn't unattractive, they were long like a mix of a bunny and a cat, and they wound and twisted and seemed to be able to move on command or instinct. At first they seemed so natural that it made me think that this was the normal state of a person... Then I noticed the human like ears on the side of their head and I was again reminded of what humans look like: if this was a human, it was a different kind of human, the shape of the ears took on a different fascination, aesthetically I wanted to understand how they fit in. I wanted to know the physiology that shaped them... And t was while I was talking to the alien like being that the second showed up. 

This one also seemed fascinated, but as much with me and the other as with its own adaptations....

It took off its hat, and it's forehead changed, opened up, revealing its "third eye" which instead of looking like an eye looked like a sort of void with a fluffy fringe protecting it. 

The alien was not disturbed by it, but sort of remembering that it could do that... Like  "oh yeah, this happens."

It's a funny set of images...

I remember wanting to spend more time with them, I was fascinated and a little disturbed. 

I woke up and thought that they should be characters in my novel, but now that I'm reading spiritual stuff again it makes me wonder about characteristics I'm developing in myself, what am I acknowledging, pursuing eye?

Am I listening? An I seeing beyond?

Will I pursue that? 

Reconnecting with the heart

Sometime recently I made this decision to try to reconnect with my heart. To open up and let it emote and care again. I am still shy and introverted, still sure that it will not help me to reach out for some unknown reason... but its been locking itself away for years now and that sucks.

So far i've just been a little more aware of beautiful things, a little more touched by songs and good dialogue and good writing.

But I hope that one day I will be comfortable enough in myself to share my positive and negative thoughts and feelings without having to triple check them every time. To be comfortable enough in my own skin, and trusting enough in my relationships that I can be open and honest, compassionate empathetic and loving.

I am hoping that this reiki stuff along with my renewed interest in eastern religious concepts can help me with this... I am hoping that getting more involved (mctc in January, potentially grad school in the fall, going to church etc) will help bring a sense of community, or roots here that i haven't felt in a while. I think I am going to commit to the twin cities. Other places appeal, but I don't have a calling, or a real longing to go. I want community and since I've had it here in the past, and I am aware of the place... maybe I can have it again.

Making friends is hard.
Loving people is hard.
Trusting people is hard.
Caring and giving are hard.
But they're worth it.
Without a little challenge, life seems colorless, dull and dismal.

In the Middle

I just got a weird email from my Mom basically asking why I never want to hang out.
My Dad gave me shit this week for prioritizing a friend's concrete offer to hang out over his non-committal. My boss sent out a text saying we haven't been smiley enough at work. I just had a conversation with a former co-worker who is still in the middle of it all, he was trying to prepare me for some of what I might experience in Grad School.

I think I am going to sign up for a Masters in Social Work program at Augsburg. I still have a lot to figure out, but work is not fulfilling. Writing is hard to concentrate too much on, and I don't see myself forming a community here or having a reason to stay if I don't get involved in something new.

Might have to take biology at mctc, maybe a spanish class too. Why not?

Its hard to be in the same physical space with people who aren't in the same head/heart space.

I don't know what to do about that. Investing in myself has meant getting further away from others...
that wasn't the goal, but as much as I am concerned about it, I don't mind not feeling ashamed of myself for not fulfilling these crazy expectations I used to have of myself.

I am annoyed with writers block. I have some scenes I am working on that just don't feel right... and its hard to move on to something else when you're already feeling disappointed with what you've done.

Just a thought

When a girl likes you, she can touch you, even when you tell her to stop. She thinks it's ok, because she isn't doing any harm, right?

I get irritated with women really quick when they act that way. I do my best to not push that limit with them, and within reason I try hard not to be too defensive. 

But it's a weird double standard, and is there really any way to say "stop I'm feeling violated" in the moment?

I haven't always respected that line. It's one of the most troubling things I've recognized about myself and my actions.

 I also wouldn't ever want someone to feel as guilty as I've felt about it. 

Who are you becoming?

Went to Church today after a strange morning that I will describe shortly.
Church was good, but again I felt like it would have been better Spirit of Truth style. There was something really good about SoT that other services seem to lack. The things I like about the UU Church is that it doesn't trigger me, there are no or very few words that cause that "I am not comfortable with this" feeling. The music is pretty good too. I like the sermons a lot, but though they are incredibly well written -again I feel like they are a half step. The minister is doing the work alone, instead of doing it with the people. Perhaps its just the nature of being a former teacher, always wanting the facilitator to step up and facilitate.

I had the same reaction to the opposite behavior this week at a discussion following a beautiful movie. The facilitator basically said "so if you want to be a part of the discussion, now is the time..." and then shut up. She gave some final thoughts, and responded to different people, but she didn't lead it.  Since we are already on the aside, the movie was called Pride and it was about a group of lesbians and gay people in England who decide to stand up for and raise money for a group of welsh miners. This is during the Margaret Thatcher crack down in the 80s. Both groups grow and change, inspire and challenge each other. It was a beautiful, moving, funny and yet serious film. Totally recommend.

Back to the UU...
The sermon today was about asking the question "Who are we becoming?" (individually, societaly etc) rather than asking the question "What should I do?"   The minister gave examples from his life, dealing with his kid (comforting in the night is an opportunity to bond), dropping labels and fear to become friends with a prisoner. One of the readings earlier in the program also dealt with this concept, the professor was testifying in beautiful prose about how she had lived her life professionally(formally) but it wasn't making her feel the richness of her work (or her own spirit), at the request of her students she allowed the wall to drop and became the teacher she wanted to be. If it had been a SoT thing, we might have had some good conversation about our lives based on this question, instead I am writing here.

This morning I rather dramatically threw out my go to line "What am I doing with my life?" which is a statement/question I say quite often even in seemingly benign situations E.G. my papers are disorganized WaIdwml?, I am hungry and can't decide where to eat WaIdwml? and also in the bigger cases like today.

I awoke terrified. Someone had entered my room in the middle of the night and was coming towards me! Totally unexpected situation. I am used to a cat jumping on the end of my bed, but a full human making their way at my face while I am trying desperately to hide in my thin sheets -this is the stuff of nightmares!
She - (yeah strange women are also scary in the middle of the night), seemed to be drunk, was mumbling something and it occurred to me that perhaps this was my roommates girlfriend.
For some reason she decided she needed to sleep in my room , which allowed my fear to become confusion and as her statements became even more strange, eventually I became rather angry.
It was the middle of the night, this woman had invaded my private space, AND was sleeping on top of the kinds of things I'd have removed if I were inviting guests in... which she acknowledged  "Why am I laying on top of a plastic pouch (capri sun)?" "whose glasses are these?"

I'd already launched myself into the door way so that I could interrogate her from across the room. "Does he know you are in here?"  "What are you doing?"  "Where is your home?"
I got no answers that were clear... instead it was a lot of (drunken?) poetry and metaphors and often I wasn't sure she was talking to me at all, more like she was restating the question to herself in order to visualize it.  "Why am I sitting on someone's glasses, keeping them from seeing? funny how thats the exact situation..." 
Now I was confused and angry, but I was also totally still asleep and couldn't really decipher anything, so instead of kicking her out (I still didn't understand the situation), I just left.

I went and complained on messenger to Jesse, and then began looking up apartments, then (at Jesse's suggestion) masters programs and places in Seattle. It felt like a last straw, like why am I doing this to myself...I've been complaining about my living situation, my lack of money, my general discontent with a bunch of stupid (easily fixed) bullshit.
If I had been 20 and a drunken girl stumbled into my dorm room at College, I'd have thought that was par for the course, but to be dealing with this... why don't I just get my own apartment?

But as the time went on, I started just feeling sorry for her, for them, for whatever. I got a few less hours of sleep so someone who obviously needed it could get some rest. Who knows...
later when I returned to my room to grab things to shower she'd vanished and I started wondering if she'd ever even been there. Was this a ghost? (had nightmares about people coming at me in bed before) Was she the one giving me the message that I need to move on?  As I showered and prepared to leave the house, I desperately hoped I wouldn't run into either of them. I wanted to believe instead of some strange craziness that reminded me of too many bad times, that this was instead a vision. A spirit come to tell me to move along.

Who am I becoming?

I've been battling with that question for years. When I was younger my entire world was based on being seen as dependable, there for people, comforting and empathetic. Obviously that hasn't changed too much in the extreme cases, but in the day to day I've become increasingly vacant. I neglect my friendships, I leave the country, I pursue the things I want to pursue... and if you aren't part of peoples' lives than they can't depend on you... and I thought that I wanted that, I wanted a different Mike.  
I do want that, to an extent. But I find myself missing being part of a community, being part of a larger whole, where people play roles and go back and forth. Where its not independent or dependent, its both some of the time, and it doesn't matter because there are others around if you aren't.  That's what I actually want.  And part of the problem is that over time I have decided I don't want it alone. I want it in the context of a relationship, I want a partner who balances me and who I can balance too. I want that relationship as central, and surrounded... and I want it to be meaningful both personally and socially. I don't want a partner who thinks I am amazing and that's the end of it. I want one who encourages me to be amazing, and draws me into places I'd not think to venture.  And I want that before I exhaust myself again trying to help people. I want to help, I just want someone to have my back too.

People been asking about the coffee job, about whats next...

The other day I was walking around the lake trying to see people's auras. I can't see colors, but I see shifts in light at the edge of their form and trace the people and sometimes radiate. I'd never tried to do it before, but now it seems really easy. While I was doing this, I decided there are still things on my list that I'd like to pursue. One of them was to be a healer (more mental/emotional than physical). I've been pushing the idea around a bunch in my head... it seems like a path worth developing, and though it seems like hard work, time consuming, sometimes a little dismal... I don't immediately feel the sense of aversion that I do from other things right now. My mind/body/soul has recovered a little, and this seems like a pursuit that would allow that to continue AND give back. To continue the work I've done in the past, to create connections, and teach, and help... but without as much personal burnout (at least that I know of).

I am in the research stage and nothing has jumped yet...
but things are starting to come together, and instead of feeling the cynical -very familiar selfishness that I've been feeling, this is starting to feel like someone I want to become.

I want to write my book, learn spanish, and guitar, paint and maybe perform some poetry... all of these are pursuits I need to continue, but I also need to be part of something, or I'll lose all my muses and passions all together, which is not acceptable to me.

2am thoughts

It's that time of the day that I always spend awake,  wishing I wasn't, never productive but with countless thoughts running through my head. 

At first it was about various types of spacecraft and quantum physics(curtesy of a video I watched before falling asleep). 

But now I'm thinking of all these women in my life and their choices around men.  

Moving too quickly, never moving at all, choosing men who can't be their equals, or seeing their partners as better than themselves.  

It's interesting how our choices relay our way of seeing ourselves so clearly. 

How we are never quite comfortable with good fits, because they don't actually ease the discomfort we create in ourselves... Not easily at least. Far easier to find someone who fits the idea we've created than the reality.

So we contort to make ourselves more like them, or hold a jealous gaze, or trust their idea of us but never raise our voice, or convince ourselves it will be easy to leave, or hold ourselves at distance. 

None of it for a better relationship, none of it heals our wounds... Just prolongs them.  And maybe if you find the one with the right baggage and the right attitude, you can push and pull eachother through it all... The unhealthy can become something more stable, given time. 

But most of my friends are cynical about other people's relationships/marriages... And in some cases, despite the lack of acknowledgement -it shows in their own.

I'm not different to this. When I regard my own relationships they were unhealthy, not very balanced. Perhaps this is why I assume my friendships have been a better use of my energy than failed romances.  

Although I've been reconsidering myself as a friend these days, I still understand that in general I met my friends as equals. Valued them that way at least.  Not pedestals and distances. Not feeling like I was better than them somehow...

But if I'd been in a romance with any of them... It makes me shudder almost. I don't see healthy avenues that direction. Maybe it's my own inability to see good fits for myself, or maybe these decisions were the better course. 

It was a day.

Got a new computer today. There is a nice feeling of "things are possible with less hassle" however at the end of the day, a new toy doesn't make your world all that different. I hope it doesn't become a new distraction instead of a tool. 

Went to first universalist church today. Went to the information session after. Considering joining. I liked the vibe, though it's hard to compare to sot. After the sermon I thought, now would be a great time for a break out session. But at this Church they do that in circles that meet later in the week. I am hoping to join one.

Considering a new career path. Not sure how ready I am, but I have some ideas.

Did very little writing this weekend. It was supposed to be my 4 days of badass kick it in gear writing weekend... Instead it turned into a bunch of other things. Overall I am both pleased and not pleased by the results. 

Time to get some food. 

Feeling the casual purposelessness of my new life.  The last few interactions I've had with folks have felt like misses.

Saw a movie by myself tonight and it made me feel guilty for spending the money. 

Gonna buy a computer tomorrow likely so that I have more things to distract myself. See how long that lasts...

It's cold and feels like winter could come quick (though the weather report says no). 

I don't think I'll find a human comforter for winter, so I'll probably have to go dig up some more boxes from my brothers place. 

There is a desire to move out, and a masochistic side that's says I don't deserve it. 

I started the day wondering if I could escape to Antarctica. I'm not sure it's a bad plan. 

No idea what I'm doin

I wonder if there are jobs that don't require a little asscovering (not literal), I've found that my job is sometimes a series of slight shifts from the truth: which is annoying. It's not so much that I don't want to tell the truth, I just don't want to get it trouble, and don't want anyone else to... And it's funny to be reduced to a teenager like that. 

Walked around a bunch today with a friend. She made it very plain that I could have dated her if I'd ever asked, but she was trying to confirm that I am loveable, in that way, if I wanted to be. 

It was interesting because she was also frustrated with me, almost scolding me for never making a move, and what that meant in terms of the way I've chosen to be her friend and not her romantic partner. 

I got a little emotional, like sad that I've chosen to deny myself a lot... But at the same time I knew that I was also just responding empathetically. I wasn't interested in that way, so I didn't act. If I'd made the choice to act, we'd likely not be friends today. 

While we were out I was stealing looks at other people. Curious about them. I was staring at beautiful things and taking them in. I was listening and responding to her, but also in my own world, and that too validated for me the choices I've made. 

But it leaves me wondering what I'm looking for, whether I'm actually looking at all, and to what extent I'm honest with myself about it all vs people pleasing. 

The fall colors were mesmerizing. Beautiful paintings all around.

The late night shift

I've been closing everyday at work. Things have been ok, but I feel like I am not living up to the expectations, despite positive feedback. It's hard to balance the "right way" to do things and the easiest way. 

After work I usually walk home and have a large meal. At work I haven't been eating much and I think this will become a problem because by the end of the day I've basically had 25% of my calories or whatever... And my body wants a ton!  So I pig out, then pass out... And that is not good. 

I usually wake up at like 2 am and can't fall asleep again until 4 or even later. 

It's irritating because I am not using the time well.  I basically surf the Internet looking at things that make me feel lonely and make me question myself but give no good answers. 

My body is not happy with the high amount of crap I put into it, so it's usually full of acid at that time as well, which is u comfy. 

So basically physically and emotionally I am not doing so swell but my mind is wide awake and racing. 

I am happiest when I feel accomplished. Or when I have a companion. 

And right now... Yuck. 

Yarsh

Lately I've been deluding myself about dating. I'm on both the sites again. I have  fantasies of meeting people, but I am as picky and lazy as ever.

Some days I walk around and think there are a million positive opportunities, and other days I feel very lonely and wonder if perhaps I am doomed to stay that way. 

This weekend I saw lots of people and got very little accomplished on the book. 

I did send a copy to Maddie.  I also bought a printer last week so that I could start doing some paper editing when I have time. 

It's already 11. 

I feel like my expectations are low, but should be lower, in regards to all the things I want in my life right now. 

What ta do

Been enjoying this song for a while.


I find that each verse has me considering a different life question and I love it.
Although in the song he has conclusions, or seems to imply the questions are more like statements "I will be light". I find I am continually coming back to these questions.

What does it mean to be free? To be part of a community? To love someone? To serve God? or... I guess how do you be light?
and all this considering we have one tiny moment in life to shine. 

This week I've been particularly caught in the first few questions.
I worked Sunday through Thursday with the intention of Writing on Friday-Sun (this coming weekend) before next week's shifts. On most work days I am exhausted after work and I get home right around dinner time and want to just do nothing... but this week I had the opportunity to catch up with some friends, and I was looking forward to that. So a couple of the nights I went out for dinner with some homies and had a good time, even though I was reluctant to take it further into the evening. But as the week went on, I found more people reaching out to hang out this weekend, and my potential time to do some writing seems to be shrinking.

So I've been running into this thing of how do I justify protecting my writing time?  If my normal day doesn't allow me to connect too well, and most people can only hang on the weekend, then how do I ensure I see people and also have some time for writing?

Furthermore, why is the writing important?  I am writing a book, but where is it going, what will it be, is it important? to who? why?

If it is just for me, then why is that important?
If it is for others, then, is that an act of love and how do I justify it?
Is creating art justifiable if you can't show the outcome regularly...

anyway... I don't think I really have this figured out.

But in my head, I need to spend this time... and I find myself willing to cut out time with people I care about to get it done. Its weird.

Or maybe I am really less caring than I used to be?
I don't know what that means. 

The school dream

Sometimes I have this dream in which I'm back in high school, but it's different school, new teachers etc.  the building is always the same, I'm aware of the location of the offices, and vaguely aware of the location of my five classes. 

Sometimes I'm an adult returning to school for some unknown reason, like a college thing even though it's very obviously a high school. Sometimes I'm a teen. I'm always struggling in three of my classes.  One is chemistry, another math, and the third is art class. 

 The math and chemistry teachers always look disappointed to see me, they usually humiliate me at some point in the hour, and the other students think I'm stupid so by the end of the hour I am so crushed that I don't go to art class.

My attendance gets worse in all three, I am failing 3/5s of my classes and it always makes me want to drop out, which is why every time I'm back I am so behind. 

I just had the dream. 

This time I was walking down the halls, excited to go to my next class until I walked in and realized it was chemistry with the teacher who hates me.

I was asking myself why I had to be there, trying to hide in the back. The other students were already engaged in the material, having fun, enjoying their learning and interacting with the teacher in the way I would love to, but they never gave me the chance. I was trying to figure out how many days I skipped when a new activity was happening. 

It seemed like some kind of role play, and my name was on one of the cards. This time it wasn't math or chemistry related it was like a psychology experiment and I was excited because I thought it would be something I could finally do right.  

The teacher explained the assignment too quickly. She wasn't clear about the objective. She didn't prepare me because she wanted me to realize that by missing class I had missed out on the right way to do the assignment so she let me flounder. 

After the demonstration I was on the spot and my confidence vanished. I was eager to answer, to please them, but I didn't know how. I asked to clarify what I was supposed to say, I said I was ready to respond but wanted the specifics 

of the answer. The teacher wouldn't help, I tried again to clarify, to ask for help in a way that said "no i can do this, but I just need a little more help" the other stents took her side, they started complaining that I didn't deserve the opportunity. That I was the joker who hadn't prepared again. 

The humiliation killed me. I walked out of the room crying, throwing a fit. 

My next class was art. I wanted to do something right, but after missing so many times I wasn't sure if I was really welcome. I was alone in the halls, feeling sorry for myself, and it felt like an empty city. Like I had returned to this place of community and been humiliated until I left. 

It's funny how sometimes in the dream I am an adult.  I am aware of the ridiculousness of the situation during the event. I am saying to myself I don't have to do this, I've already proven myself but in the moment when I don't understand, when I'm feeling embarrassed I am a kid again. I run from the room because I  feel like I'm being bullied. I don't return for days or months because I am scared. 

I woke up and my first thought was, would you be scared right now? If you had to take those classes would you be scared? And the answer is yes, but not enough to stop me.  My brain was suddenly my adult self again, capable, confident. I went from crying in my subconscious to planning consciously.

My next thought was why I was having the dream. Is it because of my little brother who is afraid to finish college eve cause of this type of situation? Is it because I feel guilty that I didn't prepare for something or I've been skipping something? Is it because I know I've probably been the teacher who humiliates a student who hasn't prepared and I'm feeling guilty? 

Was it just a dream because I hadn't set an alarm? 

... No answer. Something to think about. 

Since asked

People been wondering how I'm doing. It's an interesting question. Sometimes I feel very positive, optimistic and energized or relaxed enough.

Other times I'm subtly depressed, not dwelling or particularly anxious about one thing, just moody, completely the opposite of the other times. 

I can't tell what the difference is, it doesn't seem to have to do with food or sleep or the weather or anything. Sometimes I notice when I don't have official work it's a bit harder, but other times I get really into my free time. 

I can't really tell what is what. I'm not sure if I can trust my senses or thoughts when I'm in one of those moods. 

But I ask myself what I want and other than what I have there are really three desires. 

I want to complete these projects so that:

I can find a more suitable and meaningful job, something that gives back. But I only want this when I've completed my own shit. 

Two I want a better living space. Somewhere clean, modern(read not falling apart), with people around who I like.

Three I want a relationship. I'm disatisfied with my day to day mostly because I don't see any progress and won't make any changes to make this happen. I haven't met anyone I've been super in to.  And I'm too shy/ unwilling to make a move for the random... So I feel very lonely, even with friends calling. 

I've been having dreams of separated friends. Pete shows up a lot, so does Becky. It's interesting because my relationship with both of them is the opposite, Pete is always casual in the dreams. He's like a helper, always around like when we were growing up- rather than the reality of being very far away.  Becky is always on the fringe, half hidden, sometimes she says something, sometimes it's nice other times cutti or mysterious. Even when the dream isn't about her I feel pulled gravitationally to her and usually when I wake up I wonder why she was there. 

The egocentric part of my mind says that means I should reach out to her, maybe she needs help. But I think the reality is probably more like I need help, and my mind is sorting through the people that have been anchors in my life, and saying where are they? 

I don't mean to complain. I've got good friends here, but I'm gonna go right back to the situations that I was in when I left if I don't do something different. 

And yet, my mind is wondering where the familiar is...

Dreams and memories

I was doing nothing when she burst through the door. Not exactly welcome, but not unwelcome. She jumped back into old routines immediately, including the one where she was upset and I would calm her.

Which is what she was asking for.

It was a poem I had written that had upset her. I couldn't remember all the lines but had the vague familiarity I have with all of my pieces, I knew when it was written and who it was written about, and my task would be to explain it.

She was upset, angry and scared. Because I couldn't remember the words, I wasn't quite sure what she wanted addressed. It happens often that some line I've said is mistaken for something else, I was wondering if I had feigned being suicidal, or if I had described her in some unkind way. 

She kept saying the title, as if that would remind me of its content, but I wasn't quite sure. I offered to go look it up, to break it down. 

I invited her into my whirlwind of a room. It wasn't just messy, it was living in chaos, but this too felt easily 

explained besides she'd seen me in worse, we lived this way for a time.

I looked up the first few lines of the piiem and felt clear that this was all a misunderstanding. I was trying to help her see,but she was erratic and then ran to the door.

At the door was her friend, a large light skinned black man who clearly had played football. He was acting as her protector but he wasn't aggressive, just concerned. We talked and I offered to go get him a copy of the poem so he could see the misunderstanding. He said he'd like that. I was explaining to him on the way that it had been a break up porn, overly dramatic and written from a place of wounds. He seemed to understand that. 

While it was printing I scanned the lines again and roughly at the same time all three of us came to the conclusion that this wasn't the right  piece.

He said demonetizing about it being 17-18 pages long. She was shouting in the background, but painfully like grieving cries. And I swallowed hard

I woke up to heavy rain or even hail on the cabin roof, along with lightning strikes . There weren't any other sounds and almost nothing was visible.

I couldn't tenement the name of the poem though it had sounded so familiar in the dream. I had been reciting the familiar lines but hadn't remembered the whole thing. 

In my fear, I wondered if this was the moment I died, and whether the poem was all the things I'd leave behind. Whether she was upset because so much of it would seem negative in comparison to the positive, and I wouldn't be able to explain.

Or if the poem was some longer collection titled after that poem. I've often considered writing a poetry book, and assumed that an entire section could be poems about her. 

A third thought for consideration was that she was in trouble. We haven't talked in forever, I've basically written her off and for the worst reason. I wondered if I was supposed to make contact, to reach out and check in. 

But with who? In my dreams she doesn't always represent herself. I've had numerous dreams about other people where she stood in as the symbol. There area at least two people in particular I could think of. 

And so I tried to get back to sleep, thinking about the various things, wondering what had lead my brain to them. She's been showing up a lot lately in my dreams, is that because I've basically returned to a college age?  Is it because I looked at pictures last night from the last 5 or so years and considered the people I've loved? Is it because as has happened before in being subcojnsciously signaled of something happening? Is it because I'm worried about or jealous of  friends, in their relationships with big tall protector type men who may want the best for them or may be isolating them from me. 

There is no internet access here so I was looking at pictures and reading old stories. The last 5 years were amazing and also super disheartening. 

My life seemed on the rise, on track, etc.

There were events and shifts that made it feel less exciting and more like growing through the motions, but I enjoyed the people I was seeing to the extent that I could. 

I think I was grieving far more than I wanted to admit and then I ran away. 

In my pictures I also looked at videos and photos from my first trip to Guatemala. This time I became ready eyed, not for that abandoned mishap of a trip, but because I lived there. Missed it. Missed the people and the place. 

I will probably never live there again, probably never get to show anyone around pointing out the daily sights that now seem so meaningful but at the time became so ordinary. I won't have breakfast at Danny's or San Martin with Courtney. I won't eat at the sushi place with Sara and Anna. I won't see movies with Keva. 

I never properly grieved.  I never grieved the changes in my life, always gritting my with and moving forward. 

I miss all the people I've loved, I miss the loving part of our relationships, and now if I met up, we wouldn't fall into old routines because that was a different age, and everything is different now. 

The anxiety of being a barista is starting to fade. The repetition dreams are alternating with dreams of characters I've been working on. 

I've run into students at work and while out walking.

I've met up with some old friends, and found myself repeating old patterns.

I've realized that I am surrounded by interesting and talented people. It's made me proud and self conscious. 

I've been lonely. Wondering how to find someone to come home to. 

I've been sleeping poorly and getting 10,000+ steps a day either through walks or just working.

I've not been eating very healthily. 

My room is still not out together and I've realized part of the reason is that I haven't full committed to living here, but I'm

Making no plans to move soon.

I'm wondering how to be satisfied, knowing more time will pass than I'm comfortable with. 

Life

Dear former and future self,

Its a lovely Monday in Minneapolis. The wind is out but so is the sun leaving the temperature somewhere around heavy long sleeve weather. Its about 1 PM and I've been settling bills and looking up bank accounts. Tomorrow is my first actual shift at Dunn Bros MCTC location. They say it will take a few weeks to get up to speed, to have the rhythm of the place and to flow with my coworkers. I like the people I work with so far, they are all very chill and very nice.

I have been spending way too much money at Target. I've been spending like I need everything and last night I got a little worried that I wouldn't know how to stop. My bank accounts assure me that I am still within reason, but when I do my budget I am looking at major deficits.  There is just no way to make $1000 or whatever I will be making, work out for all my bills.
The apartment is basically half of that, insurance and various bills another quarter, 50-100 for gas each month, books and entertainment another 100 at least. I am left with almost nothing for food, nothing for extra expenses (a bike? a new computer? art supplies? a class?). These are all things I imagined I would be getting, and perhaps that is part of why I am spending so much now, its like I don't want to admit I have to budget yet and I am trying to get every little thing in before the big wham.

 I've also been having a hard time disciplining myself to work on the things I am "giving myself time for." I haven't picked up my guitar in a couple weeks, haven't been drawing, barely been writing. I have been watching a show I don't really like on Netflix and going over my OkCupid account with little to show for it. 

The last few days the stock market has been crashing and to me it reveals the ridiculousness of relying on the gamblers for future earnings.  I've considered getting another job, but as of now I haven't really done any of the things I wanted to do with my time off...
So I am facing this crisis in my head, the question being -do I use all my time to work? (meaning I might be able to pay my bills and not worry about the money stuff so much, but might also be stressed and wish I had more free time) Or  do I relax and assume the free time is good for me, push through and try to make something of it? (meaning I will be stressed about money, and anxious about the reality that I really don't know what I will make of it).

The other day I saw the billboard with the lottery numbers, the sign said something regarding having the money to pay for your dreams. In the car I divided the money this way.
Assuming 20 Million
1 million for future family issues * like parents retirement.
1-3 million for property and investments (stuff that will help future family if I ever have one).

5 million for investing in the environment
2-3 million for an arts center/performance space/coffee shop
3 million for progressive leadership training
3 million for a school.
2 million for philanthropic start ups. 

Its interesting how this kind of thought experiment can show you your priorities.
There is a piece of me that wants to worry less about financial stuff, to know my family is taken care of. My Mom says my Grandpa had a philosophy of savings, stocks and property, that between the three you'd always be taken care of and be able to pass the wealth on. If you are going to be rich, might as well make it last a few generations.

The biggest issue I can think of right now is not police brutality, or even human rights, but rather the environment. I just don't think anyone is paying attention to how fucked we are. I don't really know how 5 million could help, maybe investing in solar/wind projects. Maybe just trying to get the word out. Jesse has been part of this group called "less meat less heat" and though I am personally living it up off the animal farming industry, that is obviously in great need of reform. Maybe it would just be money for urban gardens and farms... who knows. In general though it feels like if humans don't realign ourselves with the environment and the ecology of the places we live, we will die.

I think the Arts Space and the School are similar. I want spaces that I can invest my energy and creativity, and I want other people to be able to do the same. I think these things could have huge impacts on peoples lives, so why not spend money on them.

Leadership and philanthropy, These are both ideas to get the money to have the biggest impact outside of my personal investments. Empowering others to create and transform their communities, teaching them to lead and empower others. I think that in the long run these things would probably have the biggest impact.

Why am I writing this?
I am wondering whats next. Ok so I take 6 months or a year off. I can afford to work a part time job or a minimum wage job for awhile and get by, but that isn't what I want in the long run. So what is?
Do I want to be a teacher? A professor? A community organizer? An activist? Do I want to run an arts program? Do I want to do none of this?

I just don't know.

A couple people just asked me where I wanted to go next... my answer is that I want to go somewhere, or do something that I am excited for, and I don't know what that is yet.

Chilling at an overly loud Spyhouse on this windy Sunday afternoon. I woke up sick, then went back to sleep until 11:30 or so and then went for a Calhoun walk.

I've been trying to organize my thoughts and activities, which don't allot to much.

Saw American Ultra last night with Illy. Entertaining bloody movie.
Moved into my place this week. Considering documenting the place. Its weird and random and dirty and organized all in one.
I have no blinds and stare at the people making food in their kitchen next door. I am far too comfortable with voyeurism.
I started training at MCTC this week and it seems like its going to be a rush. People talk about not having time to relax there, and say it helps the time go faster, but I was looking forward to having conversations and random thoughts. Maybe 20-30 hours a week is all I want.

I think Jesse might feel I am being needy. She has finally got her shit together and now I'm bugging her for attention. Just a few months ago it was the opposite.

I guess I really dont have the capability to think clearly right now. Its too loud.
I am worried my book project is too much. Just too many things to keep track of.
Oh well. Its 5 and im getting hungry so fuck off, Imma get some food.

The day before the wedding.

Yesterday I got to Estes Park and chilled in town for a bit before walking to meet up with the others. 

Watched shooting stars and caught up a bit with the boys. Had an edible which didn't kick in till I was sleeping. 

I've been thinking a lot, getting nostalgic, not necessarily for childhood, I'm glad we are grown and moving forward with our lives. Zach's baby is adorable. Pete and Susan will probably have one of their own soon. I'm proud of them. I like who they have become even if I feel a little distant, like a good memory from the past.  I'm here as a root, maybe not a branch to the future, but certainly to the past... 

But I'm nostalgic for love, warmth, the feeling of giving and receiving. Of enjoying so thoroughly the presence of another person. 

This whole week has been full of these kinds of thoughts. Of being happy and proud and wondering about the way forward from here.  We never had it figured out and things turned out ok, but somehow I still want assurance of the future. Will the next chapter be as special? As warm and loving or is that a thing of the past, come to fruition and now slowly shedding away with a bit of intoxicating perfume?

Colorado

Three days in to the Colorado trip. 

The first day we stopped in the badlands to do some hiking, then met up with my uncle and went on another hike in the Black Hills. It was a long day in the car and we were pretty excited to move around a bit. 

The next day we went from the Black Hills through Wyoming and down to Colorado. Got in a hike before heading to our hotel in Avon. 

Today we woke early and went white water raging on the Arkansas River in Browns Canyon. Beautiful scenery with the canyon walls and the collegiate mountains in the back.  Rafting was more fun than I thought it would be. It was the part of the trip I was most worried about, and now if someone asked is probably be down to go again. Unfortunately I didn't have any caffeine and developed a wicked headache that won't go away. Also after three days in close proximity to my family I'm feeling irritable and introverted. 

They went for a hike and I stayed behind to do laundry and walk around the small town of Avon. 

Not as clear headed and creative as I'd like to be right now. Bought a Fitbit and met my ten thousand steps... Not sure how accurate it is considering I didn't have it on all morning. 

Day 3 of work

My feet hurt and the longest shift I've worked is 3.5 hours. Tomorrow I have another three hour one. 

I have been working on drinks, recognizing the abbreviations for each drink, which milk, which preparation, which syrups/sauces, whip or froth?

That sort of thing. My steaming game still needs some work, though I've now steamed about 30 drinks. (That is a rough guess). I've  made almost every type of standard drink from lattes to icecremas, mochas to nirvanas, brewed coffee to ice tea. 

There are still a million things to learn. Like I still don't know where anything is in the store. I don't know the computer. The food.  How to bake stuff. The extras. I've been assured those are all the simple things that come later once you have the drinks down. 

Everyone is being generous and lovely with their support. I read the training guide today and noticed we skipped some things but we were pretty far through the list. 

I still feel a sense of panic and anxiety about it all. I am sure at some point it will be like muscle memory, but right now it's a difficult push through my brain on almost every step - which means I can multitask like the other baristas can. I don't think there is as much urgency at this location as I am feeling internally, but the few times it's gotten busy it felt like an incoming storm. 

It's strange how separate my worlds feel. Jodi will ask me questions about outside life and I'm just trying to stay focused.  

Yet yesterday it was nearing 9pm and I was so deeply into the story I was writing that I didn't want to pry myself away to go home and sleep. 

It made me happy. But my bills will soon be piling up if I don't start writing at home. Oh also I should be moving into the Minneapolis place when I get back. 

Midway

Yesterday I spoke to Mel on the phone for a little under an hour.
She is also transitioning back, and the guy she was dating (who she assumed she might marry) just broke up with her. She hates her job. Life is in shambles and shes broke. Of course there are things for her to look forward to, accomplishments and experiences she has that give her a boost, but what do you do when you're stuck?

Yesterday was my first day as a barista. Well lets put it another way, yesterday was my first day of steaming milk to the point of explosion. Yesterday was the first day I needed to do laundry real bad. Yesterday was a day in which I started the old "holy shit I have a lot to learn" anxiety. 
I watch baristas all the time, and they get into a rhythm, they learn the craft. So why do I assume it will take me forever, or I will somehow be the worst? Jodi is very positive. Its nice. Tomorrow I work with the boss boss, and the assistant manager who will be leaving. They will likely be less positive and more orderly in their approach. Might be helpful. 
I don't know how long my shifts are this week. That is part of the apprehension I am sure. Its also not helpful that I have been waking up so late lately. 

I got netflix two nights ago. So far I watched the entirety of the new Wet Hot American Summer series which was silly and had great music,  and the Swedish version of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo which I didn't particularly like.

Guitar has been going better though I don't play for very long. One of the main reasons I think it is going better is that I have this cool tuner that I just keep on and it helps identify the chords and notes I am playing. Its the visual verification that helps my brain process the sound to the gesture. It makes it more fun.  I wonder if there are guitar teachers who utilize these devices for that purpose, it also makes me listen to music differently. I listen for the strumming patterns and try to identify the chords. I am not anywhere near good enough to say "thats an A" or anything, but just to recognize the chord changes is helpful. 

We are going hiking in a few days, then Pete's wedding, then nothing for a while. I am nervous about both. Actually I am nervous that I will be nervous and won't be able to enjoy them, which is funny. I wonder if I should be on anti-anxiety meds, or have like some emergency ones. I could be one of those people. A pill for a date, a pill for a new job, a pill for a party/wedding/event. I could be one of those people.
I am hoping to move into this apartment, otherwise life seems more difficult. 
But once it is set up... back to boredom and routines. So I'd like to establish some good ones.

So what will my good routines be?
Today as I was walking around the lake I considered purchasing a fitbit (since my entire family has them) or at least a pedometer. Then saying basically I can't go to bed until I get my 10,000 steps or whatever it is. This is all while I am nervous about the swelling in my left foot. I noticed while buying shoes that I couldn't even fit my old sizes because I need a little extra room for the left one. This doesn't seem good. 
I would like to figure out how to keep my weight somewhere around the current weight. I look at pictures from the winter a couple years ago, and I'd really like to not get that heavy again. 
Playing guitar.
Making room for more writing, waking up at a decent hour and just assigning myself some pages might work.  

My confidence is lower than it was even a week or two ago. 
Not sure if that is new job, or lack of routines or what.
You know some people don't reflect like this.  

The Summer

I've been sleeping in later and later. Something about unfinished business drags me back to the pillow. The dreams are little sun beams reaching in all directions, anxiety and love and excitement and fun and work.  Old friends and new meet me in my dreams, and without a task in my waking life, it seems odd to reject them.