Ecstasy, maya, and the swamp

At the recommendation of my supervisor, who keeps pointing out that something is missing from my energetic field,  I started reading the book Autobiography of a Yogi. I started the first chapter and began to cry within a few pages. Something clicked, albeit momentarily, and I felt like I was back on the right path. Elements of the book remind me of Secrets of the Talking Jaguar, which had a similar impact on me despite my cynicism. A commonality between the books is that there is somewhat of a predestined path that one can move in and out of alignment with, and that when on the path things whether joyful or sorrow-filled make sense, and that when off it, things feel incomplete. This is something that has resonated with me for a long time. Like my little kid self felt that way, and I have always found myself trying to get into alignment and then finding that discomfort when off the path. Oddly though, the discomfort away from the path has changed, or rather the shame and guilt of it have shifted. It used to be that when I was off the path I felt ashamed, literally I held myself in a state of fear, strongly believing I was deserving of punishment. Now I find that I have come to understand that the veering is the punishment in itself. Disconnection from G-d, is hellish, there doesn't need to be a punishment beyond that, and these feelings of disconnect and discontent are enough to push me towards seeking the path again. And I do, in fits. A jump and then a fall back. 

The book describes the man's early life in a series of similar realizations, each time he is uncomfortable he finds some meaning in it, and each time he is on the path, some miracle happens that reminds him he is headed in the right direction. 

It's odd to me how many times I have experienced this, and still hang in doubt, still return to my worldly ways. I am a human after all, and my human nature is soooo captivating. 

When I was in India a man told me that I would return in one year. He also said that if I told anyone I would have 7 years bad luck... I am not sure if the luck was bad, but I also did not return. Still, I have this desire, like the writers to be plucked from the crowd by the mentor, the guru that will steer me in the right direction. Maybe I need to go on a genuine pilgrimage. No more of this sightseeing. A walkabout, but to seek vision. 

In the autobiography, he talks about what it feels like to learn from wise teachers that are not quite right for him. I feel I run into this a lot. I learn eagerly, and am grateful for the experiences, but never quite trusting. The Sufi center, the shamanic journeying class, the reiki class, the UU church. I take steps, but I am still waiting on the thing that feels right. Similarly, there was a woman in my dreams for like 5 years that I kept assuming I would meet, and just stop in my tracks and be like "Oh, hey, you're it." and presumably she would do the same. What is funny is that they weren't always pleasant dreams, in many cases we were undeniably attached but also in conflict, the kind of partners that love and lose and love and lose, over and over. Still I waited. Still I compared each next person to that face in my dreams. It is pretty much  the reason I stopped being attracted to blonds, there was this moment of like "that will never be her" and though I may still be attracted to beauty, the idea of finding love there seemed ridiculous to me. 

What a weird thing to acknowledge. It feels utterly ridiculous to me... to assume I can have love off the path. And that being said, my relationship with M was always complicated with this thought. With Jesse, even though I love her, I never really assumed she was someone I would stay with forever. With M, everything told me NO except the overwhelming desire to be in her presence. There is this meme that gets sent around about how when you find 'the one' it won't be someone who sets your heart racing, it will be someone who is comforting and feels like home. M set my heart racing. She set me adrift. I steadied myself daily to not be entirely swept away, and even so, I was lost...   My foresight said NO... I didn't listen. My heart is still yearning only now it is complicated by toxicity. 

I have been feeling less and less of this divine intervention, asking for it more and more. I do believe my supervisor was supposed to guide me this way, to be a blessing in my life. When she is right, she is right, and when she is wrong it is easy for me to let it go. She asks me to do things she knows I am capable of, and does so without guilting, knowing I am afraid. She names things that are true of me, even if I can't always hold that truth myself. Sometimes people see these things in me, and I am afraid they will use it against me, they will try to manipulate me into serving their needs. Thats what I started feeling with my last therapist, so I quit. Though she doesn't know the whole story, my supervisor wonders if that is what my parents ended up doing, and whether I consented to this contract before I was fully aware of the costs, made it my personality, etc... "It wasn't your choice." she reminds me, and I remind her that I am now conscious and continue to make it. 

But again, I often question if I was given a choice, not by my parents but by G-d. You can be a teacher, a counselor or a pastor.  I am a healer, these professions display the scope. Even when I think about writing or creating artwork, it is only to do this same work. I am not creating because I love creating, I am creating to express and heal my inner truths and ignite others to do the same. It is all healing. Thus when I do the things that do not feel healing (hurting people, being mean, speaking untruths, etc.,) I hold on to these sins, because they are abhorrent to my dharma. And what is the purpose of this healing? To show proof of the divine, to remind people of the truth. There is no one like G-d despite the momentary forgetfulness, there is no other path. 

My name is so funny. So fitting. Which came first do you think?

So it was yesterday, I was crying at a coffee shop, moving in and out of meditative states, enamored of G-d. I went for a walk, and felt that ecstatic bliss I have experienced before, the drunkenness of seeing G-d's creation, illuminating, pointing back, overwhelming in every single way. It was sprinkling, the warm air was thick with humidity, and in small moments I could see all the energy of the universe of every thing, tree, and leaf, and lake, and concrete, like the matrix revealing itself, and it would make me smile, or laugh, or become giddy, or cry in joy and awe, and then moments later I'd be doubled over in suffering, grief, pain, in the recognition of that greater reality, that these things are not separate -that joy and suffering are one, that they are inspired and planned, and miraculous. G-d would remind me that it is all.  I would look at the people passing me, or talking and be aware of just how silly are humanness is, sacred, but hilarious, and I would see people's souls and everything was in it's right place, and then I'd look down at a dog and suddenly be overwhelmed, recognizing the history and vibrancy of each individual soul. I'd be knocked on my ass, like someone had pushed me. One moment dancing light as a feather, the next a train wreck. And I'd ask G-d to be with me, and work through me, and steady me... and it would happen... minutes, or hours, I don't know how long the drunkenness had me, but suddenly a bird called out, flew from branch to branch to get closer, and I was afraid it would peck me. Go after me. Then another. And the illusion returned with my fears. I was back to this life. Hungry. Having to pee. Tired. I was shocked by the difference. The infinite endlessness abundance of awe, had returned to the scarce concrete. And I walked home wondering if it were sustainable... and whether I would even want that? 

Some part of me is so attracted to the human mundane, the profane, the intolerable. It is funny how so many therapists and healers are attracted to the worst in humanity. It's like we know on a deeper subconscious level that there really isn't any difference between the consecrating and the desecrating, that on some level they are both the human's way of seeking. 

I am too often reminded of my paraphilia. Since I was a child, as early as I remember these visions of the sacred, I also am reminded that I had desires for the debased. I wonder aloud these days if my OCD traits are immersed with this dualism. 

So I went home yesterday having had this mystical experience, and then did nothing all night to further these flights. Did nothing to honor or hone, nothing to practice... I avoided meditation, flung myself into the opposite, sought carnal pleasure, hedonism. 

The experiences remind me over and over that I am drawn and afraid. I want to dedicate myself to the heavenly, but I want to experience the earthly soil too. Cling and fantasy. 

What next? 

what is left

 

It's a Monday. It felt like a Monday today. A bit colder than its been. We had the first day of summer school. Half the kids don't want to be there. Half the staff maybe too. I was frustrated because the things I have been complaining about for weeks suddenly became apparent to the people I have been trying to forewarn. That people aren't prepared or planning ahead is one of my biggest gripes with day treatment, and it makes me not plan ahead, not rise to the occasion. Whats the point of investing if things don't get addressed? If everything is always gonna be half assed, then why try to strive. 

And on the flip side, how to hold the kids accountable. Ok, you don't want to be here, but your attitude is bringing others down and you are responsible for that choice. 

I've been listening to In the Heights a lot since I saw the movie the other night. I am one of those late to the game fanboys. But I like the musical version even better, slightly more complex and human. I listened to it 3 times yesterday at the airport in Boston. My flight was delayed. I watched the crowd gather and listened. 

Boston was good. I spent three days walking around Boston and Cambridge. People have asked what the best part was: people watching/street performers, the aquarium (though I am realizing I never go to the zoo or aquariums here), just the novelty of seeing new things. Spending the day trying to appreciate. I didn't have deep thoughts, I didn't have any revelations, I just took in a new space and reflected on it, noticed patterns, and made connections, and then kept walking until I found another new thing to think about. 

I enjoyed the days a lot. It was exciting, and there was always more stuff to see, to experience. I didn't listen to music or drown out the sensory, I tried to take it in. It got hot, I got burned. I ate a lot of treats, drank too much coffee and spent too much money, but it was good. At least during the days. 

At night I was lonely. At night I was reminded that there was a world outside my hostel of people socializing, finding their community of friends and family. I could hear them at night. I could hear the crowds and the conversations. I could see the couples holding hands. The families taking vacations together. And I was reminded that running away, traveling alone, etc. won't make me happier. It fulfills that desire for novelty, exposes me to "new" things that are really the same as the others (or will be over time). No, what I want won't be found in running to new cities and praying for a chance encounter. 

I talked to a few folks, but mostly my time was spent alone. It's still Covid after all and the hostel had restrictions. A guy on the plane asked me about my travels and I found I couldn't shut up. It was funny to be the one answering questions. That was the flight there, on the way back no one talked to me. 

I had supervision again today, and found I had very little to say at first.  We strayed along the line of therapy. She said I probably attract people who don't want to put in effort, because I don't require a lot (or rather I think I do, but the reality is that I don't), I am willing to put up with, will find ways to do the work, to appreciate. She also said I carry an energy of death, of detachment (the wrong kind of buddhism), and wondered how I came to believe I was so alone, living scarcely, when I am undoubtedly surrounded by abundance, of people who love and even like me- and she said it must be true or I wouldn't be as healthy as I appear to be. She said all of this in a non shaming way, it felt accurate. It made me wonder if she is a reader of this blog. That energy of death is something I think I've been feeling and writing about for a long time. Its the thing I am constantly pushing against, trying to appreciate, trying to find peace in, questioning, and reconciling with. 

I know I have written this before, but it keeps making me wonder if I am dying, and also if I need to have some sort of near death experience to go back to appreciating life. Like to ask for a deeper sort of help. To draw people back into community with me, rather than the "I'm fine. Thanks for the ride to the airport"  routine I seem to be a part of. But it is odd, because I do actually really appreciate the people in my life, I just don't know how to connect sometimes. Don't know how to feel part of it. 

I think touch is probably one of the biggest things. I don't touch people and people don't touch me. When I was younger I was afraid people would hurt me. Later I became afraid I would hurt other people. I think about this a lot with my niece and nephew. That I don't really trust myself around them and for no reason. Touch is essential, but I have it with very few people. 90% of the deepest connections I have had with people came from offers of touch. Lex offering people foot rubs (or hand rubs for those of us who were shy), I was astounded by how meaningful that could be. In my relationship with M, touch felt very one way. That was part of what cued me to her not being all in. That she didn't go out of her way to touch me. Maybe that's just not her love language. She appreciated being touched, so I did so. But she didn't offer. She made food for me, bought gifts I didn't really need. But the things I actually wanted, she struggled with and I denied myself that it was a big deal.  Touch equals vulnerability, and so many people in my life are vulnerable with me in other ways (emotionally-communication) that it feels like too much to be vulnerable in a physical way too. 

I really do have a lot of hang ups around bodily experiences. 

When I was in Boston and a little bit before, I kept thinking about the times I have been in a group of people and the feeling that I didn't fit, that I was faking it, or trying to fit. That I was nervous the entire time and couldn't quite enjoy the moment for what it was. And I don't know if this is true, or just the meaning I make of the situation. Certainly I have had millions of experiences where I felt close and felt like I fit. But I was thinking about the situations that I was seeing, and whether I was actually envious. Dinner on the town. Shopping with friends. I would appreciate these things, but almost from the outside, appreciate that they appreciated it. EG Do I actually like going out to a fancy dinner? No, but would I want to see others appreciate it? Yes. Would I feel like I don't fit? Yes, because I don't like the food and would feel rude. But if I was with people who didn't care? I'd enjoy it. Same with shopping. Do I actually want to buy any of the bullshit? No, do I shop and appreciate window shopping and browsing, yes (for a time). Do I appreciate that other people appreciate it? Yeah, especially if I love them. 

In Charlestown I was walking around, exhausted at this point I was doing the last thing on my list, and saw a church. I hadn't really gone inside any of the churches on the trip. I walked into this one, and from the moment I stepped in I felt awe. Felt like the aesthetic was so rich, so inspiring, and I basically wanted to cry from the beauty of it. I looked up the church St Mary's but the pictures don't do the experience justice. When I left the church, I was surprised how I'd had this moment of elation, and that things could shift so easily. I was in and out of the church in a minute. I knew I couldn't maintain the level of emotionality, so I left. I didn't want it to fade, I didn't want my intrusive thoughts to take over, I just wanted to be sad/joyful and then move on. It was like the beauty of the place grabbed my heart, and then just let go. And that was what I needed. 

The supervisor suggested EMDR. She suggested some sort of spiritual shamanic path -Soul retrieval kind of thing. No more talk therapy. She isn't sure any of it will actually be helpful because I know already, I just don't believe. She asked me what white people do, which is part of the problem right?  We go on vacation and consume other people's stuff. Maybe I need to head back to South America for an ayahuasca ceremony. 

(Though I may not be a fan of dogs) A soul is a soul. 

The Boston trip made me worried that my plan of quitting in a year and going on 5-6 week trip is really silly. I've already seen and done these things. I don't need to keep doing them, even if its good to have a few days now and then. What I need is connection, and that isn't gonna come from leaving. 

Things left undone

I need to take the garbage out and turn off the air conditioner. 

Tomorrow morning I am going to Boston. Felt like trying something new. 

To be honest, part of me needed to do something because I took a few days off work, and I kept finding myself looking at M's social media in which she and her dude are happily traveling together and every time I see an update I have a brief souring moment of grief because inevitably I had been dreaming of doing that thing with her. New apartment. New trip. New shopping spree. Meeting the family. On and on. So I needed to remind myself there was a world, and that I can have my own adventures. 

It was hard to work this week. No students, and a skeleton crew of staff, most untrained, so it meant telling them what their jobs would be... and me, trying to avoid my own work. People rearranged offices and decorated. It was fun, but I also feel like we had a week off and none of us are prepared for summer programming next week. Almost fully staffed, but still behind. 

I need to fill out my licensure paperwork. I need to move forward with some things. Work feels better than it did a few months back, but I am still not staying more than a year. I like my new coworkers. I even like training them in a little, but they are young. No one knows what they are doing. The new coordinator is a sweetheart and I look forward to working with her, but she decorated her office instead of doing her job the last couple days (eye roll) this is the kind of shit that leaves us behind all the time. No one has foresight. Thus the book is called foresight, people need to fucking learn to plan. 

Thats my commitment to myself. If I am working at Day Treatment at the end of next school year, I will quit and go traveling for the summer. Spain and Portugal likely.  Then take a new job in the fall. Thats a good plan. Maybe I will even move to a new state. I mean... not likely, but maybe? 

What does Boston have?  Well, I figure I can walk around Harvard and Cambridge area tomorrow, just see a little of the northern parts of the city, along with the china town area the hostel is in. Another day I can go to the art museum and the ports. Another day I can do all the historic stuff and a walking tour. Get back on Sunday likely in time to celebrate Father's Day. If not, we will go to Top Golf this summer... Parents are retired now, they have time to do shit. 

jealousy, travel, choices, novelty

Weird to quote a teenager, but feeling it. 

We have no students next week, so I took a few days off. I am trying to find something to do that isn't just sitting around my apartment like I have been for over a year. It's only 2 extra days along with the weekend... so it doesn't seem like much. DC? Winnipeg? Boston? Not sure what I would do in Winnipeg. Some of the museums I want to see in DC won't be open. Haven't actually looked into Boston yet. It feels like things are available, but also not (still Covid).  I also took the 1, 2, 6 of July off to go up north with family. I will probably also take some time off in August since we have another week before school starts again. 

I have this very strong feeling like I am not doing enough. Yesterday I got off work a bit later than everyone else, but returning home, I didn't have anything to do. I didn't have a friend to reach out to. Didn't have a special project I wanted to do. It was basically like any other night. I woke up this morning and experienced the same feeling. How will I fill my day? I updated my computers. I cleaned my coffee maker. Played computer games. Watched YouTube. Grocery shopped. Walked around the lake. Took a nap. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing to brag about. Life standing still. 

This week I tried a few new things or things I haven't done in a while. Top Golf with coworkers, actually enjoyed it. Shamanic journeying, not sure I enjoyed it. Finished the class I have been taking for 10 weeks. Got hit by some water balloons. Played with clay. It felt good to try a few new things, and yet, not much really seems all that appealing these days. 

I suppose I could vary up my walks, try a new lake, go to the art museum. See a movie. 

Saw some friends last week. That was nice. 

I was thinking a lot this week about how I have mostly become the "nice" person that I wanted to be... but it doesn't really matter. People continue to perceive me how they will. Anxiety continues to get in my way. I don't seek out drama, nor adventure very often. New experiences are... well, I might enjoy them or not, but they don't seem all that important and yet I am also super bored. I am sitting around the apartment wishing I could just sleep for 10 hours. Thats not really living. 

I went to the shamanic journeying thing hoping to meet people I might connect with, but instead it felt kind of creepy. Or rather, it felt like an alternative version of the stuff I do, caretaking people who have a strong NEED to be known, they get it through the classes there, people in therapy get it through paying a therapist. I don't need it in that way, though I am still considering a therapist. 

I am lonely, but I am also not interested in putting up with... which is a really difficult spot to be in. 

Not sure what the future holds. Not sure if it matters. 

Illy says sometimes when she feels what I am feeling, it means something is about to change. It definitely feels like this chapter has completed, but I am not sure what or who is calling. 

Thats what it is. 

Tonight feels like it would have been a good night to have some edibles, or mushrooms or something. Do a little journeying. I might just finish up some meditation videos on balancing the masculine and feminine.  

Thats another thing I have been considering lately... 

From a hand written journal entry I did not finish... and so I will

 6/5/21 

I see my life heading down 2 or 3 very different paths. I suppose it's always been like this. The path I am on, the path I desire, the path of death (decay). 

That last one is the easiest, so let's start there  -its simple, something happens that leads to decay, maybe it is quick -a car accident, a heart attack, maybe it is drawn out, a coma, cancer, -a life of dependency -a traumatic brain injury, -something that radically shifts  -either I die or my life becomes focused on the struggle of day to day survival. There is a lesson there. Either way, it is an option. The path of decline. 

The path I desire, goes from the path I am on, to a relationship, it might come out of the blue, someone says "hi" at a coffee shop, a romance that forms from something else, a random chat on a dating app, a work person, a church person... the relationship develops into a family, a new purpose, a passing forward -traditional in many senses but my life is no longer my own. I am tied to others indefinitely a continuation -that will ask more of me, require more of me, than just my own self... new adventures, new changes, new awareness. 

-it could happen anytime, but I won't just fall into it, won't take the easy route... I don't want to adopt (alone), I don't want a fall back or a settling.

-another way this could happen is a radical shift -eg moving to a commune, a dedication to a larger family. Starting a business, something beyond myself... not quite the desire right now, but maybe...

Lastly the path I am on. 

This path is often a tight rope (internally at least), its moving slowly forward, building confidence, serving, then taking time for myself, but not quite balanced by anything (outside of myself). Its growth but also stagnation. Anxiety binds it. its very self oriented at times - a pushing away of everything - and very outward focused in the work. Nothing wrong, slow, drama free (except internally). Ultimately "good" but at the cost of something, or at least, I fear it is. At the cost of -I dunno -but it feels like at some point I will resent it, rebel, run away, fish or worse, the same old patter. 

Maybe it is a not quite honest life, a put on hold for a time. 

Maybe it is heading in the right direction and I am impatient. 

(continued later)

It's not so much that this current path is bad, its just, what is it leading to?  Where do I want it to go and if it doesn't lead to the path of desire, and is only a continuation of what is and has been... then every few years I will fall in love and be heart broken,  every few years I will leave town for a long trip and not share it with anyone, every few years the friends I gather will head off on new paths, and meanwhile I will gather skills and work and then burn myself out with bitterness. 

Likely I will head away from working with adolescents, become an outpatient therapist, then go in to private practice, teach or do workshops on the side. A continuation of the path I've been on and one that would seem natural and good, and feel appropriate to me. 

Times will call in changes. Family and friends will move away or move on. The world will become more chaotic, or simpler. Children will become adolescents will become adults before my eyes, and my own visage will start to show its age. 

It was 99 degrees out today, so after I left the coffee shop in which I was journaling, I thought I should try to brainstorm 10 or 15 things I could do to change my life that would be semi reasonable. 

Become a yogi. Become a monk. Move to a new city, or a small town. Start a totally different career that doesn't require taking care of people (I cannot even imagine this). Buy a house -make it an art house, plant a garden. Leave the country. Start a bad relationship. Join a fitness club and take classes. Take hallucinogens and have a spiritual experience. Get a big camper or a van that I can customize and go on the road.  Start a business. Get a pet -like a snake, a giant boa (be that guy). Get a tattoo of a snake and think about it like I am shedding my old skin. Start posting art and poetry in public spaces again. Join or start a commune?

I watched the Bo Burnham special again and loved it again. I cleaned parts of my apartment and took out a bunch of trash and other stuff that was just collecting for no reason. I have all these acrylic pour art canvases that I hate and I am not sure if I should try to cover them again or just throw them out. Seems wasteful. The hobby is incredibly expensive and wasteful. My apartment is still messy and disorganized. I could spend tomorrow or later tonight cleaning it up... Maybe. It just feels like some things will never have their right place, because they need to be out and accessible.  My desk for instance is covered with random things I want within reach. Pills and vitamins. Writing utensils. Candles. A checkbook. A few post its. Hand lotion. Incense. There is candy and cashews within reach. There are tarot cards and a back massager in reach. 

But there are also things I don't know where to stow away, the keyboard my dad brought over that I have barely touched. The collection of masks I pull from each day (need like a bin for them). The art supplies that don't fit in the plastic contraption that holds art supplies...

I watched some horoscope videos tonight and the guy basically said "you're on the right path" "you feel like you should have been rewarded by now" "the universe is aware that it owes you" "stay on the path, but see it in a different way" and other affirming words. I thought it was funny that I was journaling about paths, and then this reading basically said the same thing -which is why I chose to rewrite it into this post.  I reached out to some potential therapists. I finally bought groceries and made some food. I displayed some art in my apartment. I watched a lot of YouTube.

for a day that was nearly 100 degrees, and in which I woke up late and didn't coffee till noon, it was surprisingly productive. Maybe this is a good path and I can stop questioning every little thing I do. 

or not. 

reminder to mike, call yourself out on these behaviors

 

Do you ever just...

My horoscope this morning said "Even if your situation looks grim, luck is with you and you will know how to remain calm whatever happens. This will allow you to realize a wish that you made a few days ago." My first reaction to this was - oh shit something terrible is going to happen, and it may lead to wonderful results, but prepare your ass.

The day started off a little rocky, I woke up at my normal time but totally exhausted, and immediately remembered that I had a 7AM appointment, meaning I had about 40 minutes to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast and drive 15 minutes to work. I got there on time, skipping the morning coffee... then the kid didn't show.

Why was I tired? I couldn't sleep last night. The rising temperature. The thoughts swirling in my head. A weird dream in which part of Bo Burnham's new Netflix special shocked me away, reminding me in the middle of the night that everything is connected and nothing matters, or something to that extent. The special is amazing BTW. I was overthinking about work of course. I was praying. I was watching asmr. I was reading erotica. I was overthinking everything again. repeat.

So I woke up a little groggy, the kid didn't show. I went to get coffee and then realized I had hours to kill before all of my afternoon appointments. Conveniently that gave me time to check in on the kid that I was worried about all night, and 2 weeks of drama was worked out in a morning, plus we prepped for a family appointment in the afternoon that went well.

My work is now a bustle of new people who don't know what they are doing, and me feeling like I need to show them everything and wondering why they all seem so relaxed when I am still stressing. Like, you're the new folks, you should be stressed, I should be confident... but that is not the way the world works.

I am very aware that the folks who have worked with me the longest are all burned out... its really difficult.We are bitter, and frustrated with new folks when they don't jump in and take care of things. If another person leaves? If I leave? Our receptionist basically told me I wasn't allowed to. She said I was one of the good ones, even though her dog didn't like me at first -which she saw as a sign, until he started wanting to be petted by me, and she realized its just because I am a cat person. Who would she talk to about Lucifer?

Overall the day mostly went well, we worked stuff out, most of the kids had fun, the teachers had them paint pots and gave them flowers to plant. It was good. I was wrapped up in my thoughts of what trauma can do to people, and thinking of that movie Manchester by the Sea. (Which I just watched several scenes from that always move me to tears).

I was at work from 7 until like 5:30 or something... but whatever, I don't have a life. I pride myself on being good at what I do. I do it, I do more of it, I learn more and keep getting better. I felt good about work today, who cares if I am wasting my personal life away, right?

Jesse texted me a bunch last night and today, nothing major just catching up. It's a nice reminder that the world exists. Australia is like us, but also really not like us. She talks about how they messed up the vaccine roll out, but also about how she has stayed on unemployment for years by taking low pay jobs and 13 hours a week, and after working a 10 hour day... I am like... oh shit, life? what do you even do with all those hours?

What do I do? I didn't go for a walk in the 95 degree heat. I didn't buy groceries like I've been telling myself to all week. I didn't clean or organize my messy apartment, or do dishes.

I buy Chinese food, watch some YouTube, watch A Promising Young Woman (on the Bo kick and have always adored Carey Mulligan). And then because I am lonely, I snoop around Facebook. And new sights bring that familiar but always difficult heaviness to my chest, the stinging warmth, and I try to sit with it.

With the hurt, the anger, the jealousy, the confusion, the feeling of betrayal. I just sit with it, breath into it, see what it has to say to me. I assume it wants to be held, my heart, wants to be seen and loved and soothed, so I try to offer what I can. But it is still a difficult thing to accept.

I am curious about this feeling. I used to have it with other exes, and even some of those friends I had crushes on. I know it goes away with time. I know that new people make it hurt less. But I am curious about this feeling. Wondering when it started. Was it when I was a kid? When I was a teenager?

I remember being shocked and angry as Nikki smiled while she broke up with me, because I let her off the hook. I remember being devastated that M was so cold in the driveway as she dropped off my stuff. Like a fucking robot sociopath. Not a single part of her wanted to sooth the pain she was part of. Why do I still wonder about her when at the end she treated me so poorly? And yet my heart burns with the breaking, the wound is still warm. I suppose that's a good thing, something to cherish. Mike you are alive, and your heart is capable of breaking again and again.

There was that one time I asked it, but with this last one, I just kept insisting... heart you yearn for this, love it, love every part of it, why not break a little more and let the chaos in? Tonight I watched a video I had seen before about how some people are hopeless romantics, meaning (according to the video) that they just yearn for the story. And I am that, even if I don't speak it aloud. I am constantly craving the story, shifting and changing it in my mind. My mind is a terrifying place sometimes. I am in awe of it.

My heart, also to be treasured, but I am aware that it is vulnerable. I hurt my heart. I did it. So why do I keep blaming her? They look cute together and I know they had more in common than we did. Why should I be jealous and possessive? They have been together longer than we were. They probably have all the same issues we had. This is my craving heart that needs to mend, not hers. 

I review the pictures of our time together, it seems like so long ago and only seconds. I remember these moments, I remember being happy and being grateful that she was with me. I remember seeing her smile and thinking it was genuine as well. These little adventures, make me feel good, but they are also distant. Almost YEARS ago now or in some cases actually years ago. Its odd to hold this, maybe its because I have been running from these pictures, or not sure what to do with them. My own collection of trophies that I haven't ever gotten to display. Wanna see one? 

how about this one... no, why chisel these remembrances. She looked happy. But she didn't know me or didn't care enough to make it work. I was happy, but I was deluding myself. I can have that again with a partner who wants to be with me... just need to let it go. 

And then I return to her Facebook page, something I haven't actually done in months. And she has a hundred new memories without me, and this time it doesn't hurt, or at least not much. I am curious, I am kind of grateful, I ask G-d to take care of them. I miss the kids. I want happiness for all of them. I don't want my grumbling and pain to be a part of their story, like my angry heart might have insisted only minutes ago. 

But, I definitely need someone new.

Which wish did the horoscope mean?

sleepy eyed on Memorial Day

 

Some things I've pondered today:

If I've protected my peace by removing obstacles and challenges, then maybe I didn't learn anything at all? Maybe I need to add more challenge to learn more...

Arguing about whether this country cares about people with someone who votes to lower taxes, probably isn't a smart move on my part. As in, what's the point? When in arguments, it's much more effective to think about why the person is taking the stance they are taking, rather than listen to their arguments. 

I am getting more cynical about the way social justice and critical race theory is applied in our society, because all of the emphasis on individual responsibility reminds me of other failed social/economic/environmental justice issues, this isn't changing the structures that recreate the system again and again, and guilting white middle class liberals into "becoming woke" isn't actually gonna change it either. People in power don't care about your guilt or your guilting. We see this over and over again. The peace movement didn't end Vietnam, the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese armies using guerrilla tactics to waste US money and man power ended the war. The Civil Rights movement used shame and guilt to wake white people up and hold their leaders accountable, but now the people who are stalling progress watch Fox News. Nothing is gonna wake them. 

Being smart doesn't mean you can treat people as less than you. Being smart should mean you get a say, but if you can't be responsible with that say, then maybe you don't deserve the say either. 

It's really easy to feel like it doesn't matter if you have morals these days. Morals and ethics aren't rewarded. I am not saying "nice guys finish last," but I do think there is a certain degree to which being nice at all costs, actually hurts you in this society because our priorities are all wrong.

Lately I have this really weird egotistical self absorbed feeling that I am running a different race than everyone else. 

It's Memorial Day. Why do I put so much emphasis on my life, believing I am important etc, when literally millions have died in wars for absolutely nothing. A dead skeleton in a forgotten field. They served -maybe proudly, maybe without another choice, and they died. And nothing changed in the grand scheme of things changed. Humans move forward and back, and forward and back. Why should any life be noted for being "worthy" or more worthwhile, or more sacred? 

There are spiritual beliefs that say you signed up for this particular moment, this particular time, this particular experience and it is important to live your human life here... to absorb, recognize, hold them, grow. 

There are other spiritual beliefs that say this pittance of a life means nothing in the larger universe, your spirit lives, your body dies. Dont cling to the attachments of this. 

My ego just floats between all this bullshit, while my body accomplishes very little.

being

Today I got one of the worst massages I have ever gotten. It was comical. I had this weird recognition of like... some folks just aren't meant to be massage therapists. It actually improved my mood to think about this, despite being bad, so not a waste of time necessarily. Also made me realize that I do actually want some pressure in a massage, unlike in the old days.

It improved my mood. The other thing that improved my mood was seeing my brother and nephew, even though I probably spent too much time complaining. Maybe I needed that. Just updates on life. Nothing too deep. My nephew apparently has one word right now and it is in Spanish, though I am sure I heard him say "Da" like 8 times while looking at my brother. He knows how to get what he wants, so he doesn't have the need for communication yet. My mom's theory is that he is like me, and probably won't speak until he is sure he can say full sentences. This theory of hers is way too transparent in my life (see last post regarding dating). I continue to dwell on drama.

Today I was thinking about how my mind really wants right answers. As in, am I doing this right? Am I doing the right thing? Is there a better way to do this? How do I learn the right way to do this? This desire drives me nuts at work, and my supervisor says I am constantly gaslighting myself -talking myself out of the answers I know are good enough, because I want a right answer. My little kid self.

Anyway. As is often the case when I have nothing going on, this morning I started to daydream about getting cancer and wondered if I would seek treatment. I walked to the coffee shop this morning, and sat watching traffic and considering if there is a right answer to this question. Is there some moral right answer? Am I supposed to say YES and then fight for my own life and then overcome some great obstacle, learn some great lesson in the process (the lesson of course being that I was always worth it -and didn't need to live for others). Or is it kind of a situation that wouldn't really matter much? Maybe letting go and just accepting death as part of life, is the 'right' lesson? Or maybe I choose to live, and in the process realize my worth to others? None of this matters all that much, and there isn't a right answer. But I think about it because it is an extreme that clarifies the choices in life. For like 30 years I have been asking myself what is the point of life, and for at least the last 20 I have been assuming that if I met the right person or had kids, I would suddenly make different choices. (I usually do change habits when in relationships, but not to any life changing degree). This whole "living for others" thing doesn't seem to work out very well for me -in maintaining relationships at least. I probably was thinking about this because of one of the Olivia Rodrigo songs... but anyway. It's a funny thing, this idea of like would it be worth it to live for living sake, if that required additional effort.

What is it I am hoping to accomplish before death? See a few more places around the globe, leave some art or writing, support others while I am alive to do so. But, do I NEED to do any of these, not really. DO I need to own a house, or a small business, or even see my niece and nephew grow up? Not really. I will enjoy it if it comes, but NEED... I am pretty comfortable in my accomplishments. I gave what I could so far. I will continue to do so.

Its just a funny thing. I am sure I have written this before like at least 3-5 times in this blog. Thats kind of what I mean  when I say I need others to pull me out of my stuff. I am in my own cycle, and if life is going to continue this way until my death, does it matter if it happens now or later?  I don't know. 

Would a big enough shock allow me to go down a new path, or am I so stubborn that I would choose to get back on this one? Do I just keep reinforcing the same old shit, and again, if that's what I am about, if that is my form of being, then why try to maintain it forever? 

Also, been think a lot about how others would interpret my behaviors in life... how I hurt people and probably would sound super conceited if they read this. But, they have their own experience, not necessarily something I would have any reason to argue against. I've let go of most of my drama (minus M when I am bored).

My horoscope today said don't make any irreversible decisions, "Patience and consideration are better than rashness." preaching to the choir horoscope. Occasionally I am reminded by instagram or facebook that this horoscope told me not to fall in love with M, and ignored it... so that funny.

But it is a day of rest. Just chilling. Probably watch some more Rick and Morty, eat some chinese food. Nothing big to make decisions over. Life will go on regardless. Life is beautiful, it doesn't need my approval and it will go on regardless, even if I don't have answers to my questions.

Drama

 

This week a bunch of the students got mad at me. We are trying to hold them accountable to their own feelings and behaviors, and of course that means they get upset and their defenses come out. Some run, some fight, luckily its been over fairly petty things. Nothing major, no damage... but its difficult when a teenager decides they don't want to do something. They have the power to be stubborn. They have the choice whether they are ready to try or not. We can only hold the space for them (and they don't like it). We are still short staffed, so it's been an exhausting week. At the same time, at a certain point it felt energizing to just say "Hey, this isn't my shit, its yours and you need to deal with it." 

Thats a funny thing for me. It's weird to feel empathetic and also hold ground to know that in the long run holding them accountable is better for them. I can validate all day every day, but if they don't start to challenge themselves, they won't truly learn that they are capable. In some cases, it's as simple as kids not wanting to challenge their negative assessments of themselves "I suck at school." In other cases, its kids blaming others for stuff they did. "You made it worse." (by holding me accountable).

That phrase, walking on eggshells is so common when a person can't handle their emotions. Many of my students end up making people tense, totally unconsciously, they have no idea that they are doing it, but at times it is a constant in my therapy group. Like every day or two, someone will say something and the room will go tense. Sometimes it lasts weeks. Sometimes it doesn't get addressed because everyone is afraid. I basically told the students we aren't gonna do that anymore, if you feel it name it, so that the person can start to take care of themselves, rather than it being a pattern that repeats. But its hard. It is very hard to feel overwhelmed and not blame others. It is very hard to sit with difficult emotions. It is very uncomfortable. 

This morning I woke up at like 7:30. I wanted to go back to sleep because in one of my dreams I was -not quite in love, but at least with someone who had once loved me. There were other people there, but it felt so familiar, so comfortable, that I longed to just stay there. I miss feeling loved. I have so little of that in my life. A week ago my mom scratched my back and I realized it was the first casual touch I'd had intentionally in over a year. Yes I go and get massages sometimes, but casually? No one touches me. Some folks still communicate and it feels amazing, but honestly I am alone most of the time... so a dream in which someone still loves me -even if it isn't as romantic as it once was. It felt amazing. 

Today I was walking around the lake listening to that new Olivia Rodrigo  album which I unfortunately love. Like totally fucking love every song -Might be one of the best albums I have heard in a while -which is insane because its a teenager! (or is it?). Anyway,  90 % of the album describes the relationship I had with M, or at least the breakup, all about drama and angst, and heartbreak. So of course I was reliving old drama in my head. And I realized it still feels so real, even though its silly. Old heartbreak from almost two years ago (seriously 22 months in June), and I haven't even had a glimpse of a new crush or a new anything to pull me away. -At the same time, dealing with work this week, I totally didn't think about it at all... So the songs bring me right back to the thoughts of it... but tonight because I was bored, I was doing some social media searches and I found her/them on Instagram (that's a song not a link to her). A joint account, one post from a couple weeks ago. I guess that spoils all my wonderings about whether she is miserable. I had this thought that she might have gone through another depressive stage. That maybe just as all her other relationships fell apart, this one would too, because she doesn't know herself well enough, and can't sit in her feelings or communicate about anything. But I guess it hasn't (yet). Listening to the music today, it made me wonder if I got to be with the worst of her, and whether she never showed me what she was capable of in a relationship. I always felt like she was not attuned, like she was pulling away, like at times she did things almost intentionally to hurt me-push me away. But maybe she was just never invested, and so these things didn't occur to her because she was already assuming she would move on.  I mean... the timing makes sense. But then, I also compare the story she had of me, and the way she describes her exes. I really only have her most recent ex husband to compare primarily, but everything he did seemed to demonstrate "yes, he was anxious and sick of the shit" but also, he loved her, wanted to do right by her, even when they separated. I never heard of anything he did that sounded like he was trying to hurt her, just that he couldn't live up to her expectations... and if my lived experience is any indication, he tried, and she tore him down anyway. 

these thoughts are comforting to me in a weird way. Like "Thank god she broke up with me, I would have been miserable for the rest of my life." But the lack of interest in others, and the fact that I genuinely fell in love with her, and our life together, makes it really difficult to just sigh relief over. 

Back to the media post, it brought up some of that emotional discomfort, warm-ache, that feeling in the diaphragm, that bleeds onto the heart and lungs and stomach. My nervous system felt off. I was triggered, but not that bad. Nothing that wouldn't go away with a few breaths, a little sighing. a little reflection. I can handle my feelings, even the uncomfortable ones. But I forget that all the time. I am an anxious avoidant mess sometimes. 

So why don't I add more people to my life? I mean, if I can handle my feelings. If I can communicate, and ask for what I need and sit in the discomfort... why can't I invest in new people? Its a funny conundrum, I was thinking about how if a total stranger I found attractive was like "Hey want to go on a date?" my answer would be something along the lines of "I don't even know you."  which is of course the reason for a date... but to me that's not enough to invest. I am still withholding. Anyway...

All these things make me think of the nervous system and energy. Can I balance my nervous system? In many ways, you can just think of it as a range of energy. Am I overly high in my energy (manic/panicked/survival)?  No. But I am anxious, somewhere slightly above middle...and so I intentionally ground myself, stay low, simple, moderate, don't take risks, don't go to extremes... simplify everything, almost rigid in my okay-ness. In my openness to what comes without necessarily joining it. I try to live that taoist life, balance, let the flow take you. But then I get caught in my low rhythms, wake up blue almost every day, go to bed lonely. Sit still too long without distraction and I am agitated by my own feelings of inadequacy. So naturally my energy is probably on the low side, and grounded in it even when I am excited/anxious... (that's dangerous). 

 Today I did some meditation at the park and then ran up a hill, and afterwards I felt much more free and elevated (not just physically being at the top of a hill*). My energy was actually higher after exerting myself. I felt good. I felt capable, despite my wind pipe closing up -I either have athletic induced asthma, or I have never been in shape. Anyway, it made me think about how little I risk, how little I allow myself to feel the reward. 

Been working a little on the book each week. Not major additions but at least a tiny amount of progress weekly. 

Lately I have been writing more of the character Lucy, who is a teen when we meet her and is super traumatized, so she stays pretty angsty and withdrawn (selective mutism) throughout her time in the book. She can't trust anyone, and because she withdraws, they believe they have to make decisions for her, so it ends up being this vicious cycle of recreating the trauma response. In the early book, she is one of two characters who refer to myths or religious stories. She takes home a book of myths from her English class, and becomes obsessed with the stories as they give her an outlet and a way of understanding the awful things she experiences. 

I find it particularly hard to write her character because I want to give lots of context to what she is experiencing, but she doesn't dialogue with others (a few scenes in which she writes back and forth). I hope that her character comes off as trying to avoid people. In my head she spends like 90% of her time curled up in a ball sleeping, reading when she is awake, and only interacts with others when forced to. She overhears conversations and reacts to them. But her circumstances change a lot, despite her efforts to withdraw from everything, and so I accidentally break the POV because it should be from her lens in present tense, but I am trying to let the audience know of the larger picture that she is living through despite her attempts to avoid it. So I end up switching into past tense and omniscient POV.

The other thing that has been hard with writing her character is that she is one of the only characters whose cultural time would mean anything. EG, when I first started the book in 2015-2016 she made sense for that time line, but if I update it at all, she would have to age along with relevant news/culture. Even her word choice... she's almost a new generation 5 years later. That matters a lot less with adults. I can slip in a word about Trump, or Covid and suddenly we are updated... Maybe at some point I will have to just give up on the timeline?  

I've been thinking a lot about some feminist critiques of dystopian sci fi lately. How writers use violence against women and children to justify the narrative, and I guess the book definitely does that. Trauma in all forms... these are deeply wounded humans. They all have opportunities to show their strength, and the reason their behavior makes sense... but it is a disturbing book. I have tried to have as many female characters as male, but do people fall into stereotypes? probably. It's also a funny type of critique though, as if people don't experience violence, don't experience trauma that impacts their personalities and the direction they have in life. I meet so few "healthy" people who have never experienced anything. Just isn't my life experience to see I guess. I try very hard to show how good childhood and healthy families can still face hardship in a world in which people don't look out for each other. 

Anyway, I always worry about using the same old tropes, but I do anyway. Lucy has selective mutism because she got in a fight with her mom (who was being emotionally abusive out of her own anger and grief)  and Lucy's response was to tell her to go to hell, and then before she can talk to her mom again, her mom dies as a war breaks out. Her brothers and friends all run off to the war, but she is already too shaken, and so she is left behind and withdraws. Some part of her believes that if she speaks truth to the hellish world around her, it will only get worse. And life keeps getting worse, she continues to withdraw into fantasy. Her conscious and unconscious understanding of things starts to mix, at times she is making conscious metaphors to amuse herself, other times replacing reality with a fantasy version to protect herself, other times she is simply delusional/hallucinating due to her decline, and as a writer figuring out how to mix these states in any form of coherence over roughly 10 chapters about a girl who primarily stays in bed all day -is difficult. 

I sort of fall in love with the characters, even if I don't like them, or I am sick of them... It's this weird thing where I have to be so invested in their perspective that it's like I am them for a day... some characters more than others...half the boys are definitely me... Jaime, Shawn, Esfegione, Lizo, Hieu, are all definitely part of me. 

Jaime wants to be spiritual, wise, unattached, but in his heart he wants connection with others and to be secure in it. (Mike's desire to be a sage) 

Shawn wishes he could stay innocent but continues to have to be an adult in a brutal world, and his response is to say fuck you, I'll destroy everything, if you're gonna fuck with me. (teen mike) 

Esfegione just wants to be known, cared for, seen, upright, seen as good. (Mike's day to day).

Lizo lost all confidence, but wants to be the hero people see him as. He's smart, and capable, but doesn't trust himself (Mike's ego).

Hieu reluctant, anxious, contemplative, conservative even though he is fully capable. Everyone around him is too rash, and he sees how it is ruining everything. And meanwhile, all he wants is to cuddle in bed with his lady. (Mike's response to life). 

I often wonder about some of the female characters, are they part of me, or part of the people I love? 

Jimena? Anya? Naiyah? Ka Htoo?  In some ways they feel more like caricatures than the boys. Jimena is certainly not a normal person, but we see her in a lot of weird states, so she is dynamic even if out there. Anya is real, but her shallowness makes her seem plastic to me... Naiyah, too old and wise for her age, fearlessness is weird for a child. Ka Htoo, its the shallowness of her entire society. 

Maybe that's mike's sexism, or maybe its a critique of the way women are socialized to be shallow in our society? Who knows. Samson (a female character whose name will likely be changed) doesn't feel like a caricature to me, even though I sometimes write cliche shit in her voice. She is a whole person, fighting to not be seen as a caricature. Maybe that is why though, Samson more than the others has other people thinking things about her that she doesn't like. Anya crafts her image. Ka Htoo doesn't have anyone who pays attention. Naiyah knows she is playing a role for other people (in the early chapters), and she feels it is important to do so. Whereas her story arc later puts her in a spot where she is very against playing into people's hopes for her. Lucy behaves like a petulant child because she wasn't able to grow out of it in a healthy way, she doesn't have a healthy role model to grow into, so she ends up being what they think about her. 

Anyway, I had a whole journal website dedicated to thoughts about the writing process, but I abandoned that project and probably need to write more of this shit down so I can think through their arcs and how they come across...  oh the shit I do in my mind. 

 

I need to get more concrete.

 

This weekend I had a day where I was really depressed. Part of what happened is that I began to feel incapable in a lot of areas in my life, and resentful of work, because it felt like I was putting all of my energy and creativity into work and not getting what I wanted in return. 

This might be the problem with being a therapist. Or it might be the problem with being lonely, and not having balance in life, and using work to fulfill some of the void. 

Either way. I mentioned this to my clinical supervisor, and she basically said something to the effect of -you're probably going to quit in the next 6 months because you're realizing day treatment isn't a good fit for you, the things you were looking for don't exist there (a team of professionals and a good systemic approach), the opportunities that do exist (training new folks) you don't want right now. And the actual clinical development isn't giving you anything new... its slow paced, and focused on areas that are outside of your control (kids not wanting help, their parents not wanting help) and force you to rely on others that aren't prepared to do their jobs to the standard you feel is right (holding the kids accountable, supporting them, teaching them skills), and would require a lot of communication on your part that you don't actually want to do. 

She makes me feel seen. What a gift. 

We are getting new staff, and I do think that Day treatment will get better, but I am aware that it probably isn't what I want. I am more interested in therapy with folks who want it... teaching folks who want to learn... the students and families that are invested feel great. Otherwise, it feels like I am dragging folks through a system they don't want and aren't prepared for (AKA the traditional western education system).

But she did challenge me to set some concrete goals. I thought it was funny because Courtney sent me her list of questions and I realized I probably need to do some brainstorming and day dreaming on paper. A check in. But to make an actual plan. 

Whats the story I tell myself? (What story would I like to tell?)

That I am all alone, and have to do all the things, take care of all the people, and there won't be enough left for me, and no one is looking out for me.  

I would like to tell the story that I am doing my part, that I am seen, valued and cared for, that I am part of something, and that I can trust the others are also doing their part because they want to, and don't rely on me to hold them to it. 

How would that look?

We'd all show up because we wanted to, enjoy our hardships and joys together. Challenge and support each other in the areas that we have decided we want to grow, stay along side one another through the difficulties, knowing that underlying the changes we make is still a core of trust, respect, love, integrity.

This is sort of the community I have wanted since I was little. The idea at least. A family that plays together. A group of friends that isn't out for themselves, or pitted in competition with one another. A neighborhood that isn't isolated nor keeping up with the Joneses. Where people actually have a set of values they are rallying around. 3B at Morris, SoT, LNAS, these are the closest I have seen, and none was perfect, but they were something. I am just sick of being responsible without feeling energized by it. 3B I was definitely responsible for keeping them together after the first few months...  SoT I kept stepping up to take on the jobs no one else was doing, LNAS I inherited and was invited and groomed into the role and ended up being central to it being a staff collective. My family?  this is where I practiced and honed it... how to bring divorced parents, an angry quiet older brother, a loud energetic little brother together? Step parents?     I failed with the step siblings and even though I don't really try, I don't try with a sense of guilt. 

Concretely it would mean at work, that I don't have to ask other people to do their jobs, because they are already looking for the opportunities to do their jobs. That they reach out with questions, and pursue the answers they need. Rather than me having to seek them out to give feedback or ideas. That they acknowledge areas that they need support in, but not as an excuse, as a genuine goal to work through. 

That when things are brainstormed, or a new procedure is done, there is time to plan, to prep, and to follow up afterwards to consider how it could go better. 

That things are not done in secret. That we trust each other enough to handle it together. That the culture we are trying to craft has a vision, rather than a collection of visions that are being muddled together (been there and it isn't fun). 

Concretely in my personal life?  People would reach out, and I wouldn't push them away, or pretend, or problem solve for them. I'd enjoy activities with people again, and seek out opportunities. I'd feel like I could ask for help, and know that the person genuinely wants to. I wouldn't feel rejected by the ones I get closest to, or wary of the moment that can't contain anymore.

Sometimes I have weird day dreams that I will get critically injured or terminally ill, and it will be my opportunity to ask for help without feeling bad... but I think I would still feel bad. 

What would make it feel right?

I guess this is a question I don't know the answer to. How would I trust that I can ask for help and its ok.  I mean, I do ask for help all the time, but the kind of help I really want is love and loyalty... its attunement, its someone who considers me out of their joy and not just their need. And maybe it is just my bullshit, but I really notice it more often when the people are so distant that they can't possibly expect anything from me, except wanting to say hi. 

I think I need to take steps forward in asking for what I need, because if I don't I'll probably die and bitter too. 

I'm gonna skip ahead. If I were 10x bolder I would quit my job, move to another country and write a book. If I were 5x bolder I would be more socially active, and actually tell people when I don't like the things they are doing. If I were 1x bolder, I'd start making concrete plans to do these and other things, and I'd take more time off. 

Plans for Summer and the next year:

Work

• Finish up supervision. Apply for licensure test. Take a practice test. Study. Take test. Become licensed. 
• Train in the new MHWs, create extra space for them to grow and learn. 
• Finish my class on embodiment stuff
• Take time off
• Address things in consult
• Get more concrete with the kids around goals for therapy so that they feel they are accomplishing things
• Set goals for what I am hoping to get from Headway (within the next couple weeks)
• Set goals for what I am hoping to get out of my next job (by August)

Personal Development

• Start with a new therapist
• Run around the building once per day
• Go for walks 3 x per week
• Meditate more often, especially outside
• Smudge more often
• Challenge "story"
• Go to the doctor
• Yoga or weights 2x week
• Go back to UU church when it reopens 

Social Development

• See at least 2 friends per week
• See at least 1 family member per week
• Go on a date? Ask people for dates?
• Join a club (book club, writing group, mens group, something)

Creative Development 

• Write/edit book at least one day per week
• Write a poem 1 x per week
• Paint 1 x every other week
• Learn a song on piano/guitar or take music lessons

Life Development

• Quit your job within 1 year (June 2022 at the latest). 
• 4-5 weeks (minimum) international trip  (Portugal & Spain)
• Take time off for vacation
• House?  Watch the market
• Check off another thing on the bucket list before 40

If you aren't in a long term relationship by 45, fake death, leave country.

Why Is an Ordinary Life Not Good Enough Anymore? – Alain De Botton

A reminder for the next little crisis in my head. 

Felt like I should follow up

Cried for a half beat. Went for a walk. Listened to Las Cafeteras. Even did a bit of running (something I never do). Made a bomb dinner and watched Rick and Morty. 

Probably go to bed early, but ultimately the day ended well. Maybe as Ediya said, I need to focus on the energy, then the emotions, then the thoughts, and not the other way around. She said gemini season will be about integration, pulling the parts of myself together and focusing on the body rather than the mind. Slowing down. Recognizing what is, rather than all the things the mind says. 

Tomorrow I have work and my training. It is my mom's 65th birthday tomorrow. I can't imagine living that long. But if I do... doing a bit of running will probably help. 

Whoa depression

 

Ok so after that last post I looked up therapists. Cried myself to sleep (only a little bit). Woke up feeling a little better. Felt depressed again. Got up, took out the garbage. Went to Target. Filled the gas in my car. Did some laundry. Booked a massage for next weekend. Asked a friend out for dinner. Might still go for a walk. 

At least I will accomplish a few things today, even if my mind says I am miserable. 

And so...

 

I woke up around 7 and couldn't fall back asleep.  I watched some shit on YouTube, shaved and went to a coffee shop. I hadn't checked whether my laptop was charged, so when I sat down outside I was stuck with a few books I didn't really want to read and a journal that didn't feel comfy to write in. I wrote in it anyway. I wrote about feeling like I was living outside of my life. I wrote a brief little excerpt about desiring change, and a short poetic response about loving and relying on fantasy. The humidity magnified the sun when it broke through the cloud cover and felt like burning on the skin. The traffic in the neighborhood irritated my ears, I could overhear everyone's conversation, and the thoughts in my head weren't all that clear. 

I returned home and made food. I am ready for a nap, or a walk. I have chores to do. Maybe I should be shopping. Nothing sounds all that good today, and yet I don't want the weekend to be over. I want another day, to catch up on all the things. To get clear in my head. To figure out the future. 

I've had this weird longing in the back of my mind. It whispers, if not love, then death. And I think I know what it means. It means that I am not content with my life. Even if I like my job, this isn't living. Something needs to shift. There isn't an urgency, there isn't any danger in this thought. It's simply a recognition. 

In the past when I felt this way for long periods of time, I would go on a trip. I would see the world and be renewed. That is one potential option. But I also realized on my last trip, that to some extent it is still the way I avoid my life and making the real changes. 

I am aware that the "something" is the way I approach life, approach people. But I am hesitant to change this. In the past I gave more of myself, committed to things, was part of community. It was good, but it also wiped me out. It wasn't sustainable. Now, I don't know how to be part of community without losing myself... and maybe that is the point? Maybe I am supposed to lose myself, so that I am not miserable with myself?  

I think I should find a therapist today. I think maybe I should call the doctor and get a referral for a throat specialist. I think I should book a massage. I think I should probably start creating plans with people, even when I know I will be exhausted. 

This weekend I read old poetry, and liked it. I was proud of my writing. I wondered why I don't show it off more. 

But I am also frustrated with the place I left my book - the chapter I started last week... there is an idea there, but something doesn't feel like it fits. I don't know what to do with that. In the past, I took out entire storylines when this was the case. Maybe I need to rework my outline.  Maybe I just need to focus on creating characters that feel real, and not just for the story to progress... that takes time. To fall in love with your own creation.

It's a funny thing. my first response to enjoying my own creativity is this desire to show others and get their approval. Helping my mom yesterday with her video was the same... why not do more YouTube I asked her?  Record yourself doing pottery? Record yourself on your next road trip?  But for what...

I think maybe that's why I get so down on myself, watching social media, seeing other people get praise for their art. I have a desire to be seen, to be known, to be understood, to be celebrated. But I also shirk off compliments and invitations. I often hear that most youtubers are introverts who feel really awkward in social settings. It's a medium that appeals to us. Connect, without connecting. 

That desire to be known... to be loved, but by whom? Do I care if a random says I am cool? Do I care if someone I knew 20 years ago gives me a like on Facebook? Not really. A desire to be known and loved by someone who I adore, whose story I am enamored with, wondering if our names will make it to the last page together...

I wonder if my job is really just my way of feeling useful in a world that doesn't seem to care much about anything. I professionally care for people, and invite them to think differently. Why am I questioning teenagers behavior? It's fucking useless. Tell them one thing is expected, and they will do the opposite because it's their job to oppose. Recreating the same old traps. Whats the point of anything? Why? Won't we all still make the same mistakes? Won't we all still be part of a society in decline? Won't we still be chasing after things that are meaningless? - Am I growing cynical or conservative -I often wonder lately... 

I am a socialist, but the way that we have ordered our society feels so stupid that I wonder if it is worthy of effort. Why have I not retired with a fishing pole and a customized van? 

Why do I ask why? And not how, or when. 

All things are a matter of time and choice. I guess I am not yet desperate enough to escape, but not tied down and attached to my necessity for hope. 

Parents must see the opportunity, the hope, the light at the end... something must continue to make it worth the continuing. Love or death, the whisper in my mind. Even if the reality is &, the one gives reason to separate from the other. 

Repeating

Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in a time loop. The same old experiences. The same old people. The same old thoughts. 

Yesterday I walked around uptown with Illy. We went to a store I have heard about for years but never been to. We ate at Leaning Tower and a former student waited on us. I tried a hibiscus berry tea that had berries in it. Today I sat inside spy house for the first time in a year. I started a new chapter of my book. It doesn't feel grounded in anything, but it was new and had to be done. 

Today I walked around the lake listening to Hair, thinking just a bit about the mindset in which you meet new people. How the energy has to be right, and how I rarely bring that kind of energy to my life. But it also felt possible. The city was warm. People were wearing summer clothes. It made me want to eat every meal outside. To sit and write and read in the glow. Even with allergies flaring, and making me want to sleep. It felt lovely and hopeful. 

Tomorrow I go back to work. 

How do I integrate?  Why do parts of me feel so distant. 

I keep thinking some partner would heal me, or at least provide the new experiences that make me want to heal myself. But that's not how life works. 

Gotta raise my own vibrations. 

More tracks

 

Last Sunday I was reading editing my book. For months (years?) I have been saying I need to get back to it. Need to make it a more sustained effort. I got lost in it for a few hours. My headache grew, and then I went to my Dad's to celebrate his birthday. 

When I got there I was nauseous, I felt carsick, and irritated. I felt completely out of my head. I was lost in the story still, and didn't feel like I related very well to my family. I can delight in my niece and nephew, but I didn't want to make small talk or catch up talk with my family. I felt like I had nothing to say, and didn't want to ask questions. Thats what I do for a living, and it feels shitty to be like that in real life now. 

I started feeling better after eating and taking some Advil. My headache continued but the rest of it disappeared. 

I started watching Invincible on Amazon, and though a bit gory (my teen self would have loved it, but my adult self was kind of grossed out), I thought it had a great story. Simple, precise, clean lines, neat introduction to the world and a lot of baiting for the next season. It was heartfelt in a complex way, without getting bogged down in too many details. Honestly one of the most brilliant things I have seen since maybe Fleabag. Or maybe I was just in my sci-fi mode. 

I want to get back to writing, but how can I do both? How can I get lost in my own world, and then successfully attend to everyone around me? 

On Monday I told my supervisor that around this time of year I always get a little grief, stress, irritable. But it was interesting because as I spoke she flipped the script with a question or two, and suddenly I realized I was in that same core question again... why was I alone?

My grandpa was dying. I was responsible for testing. I was sick. I couldn't ask for help. I wanted someone to take care of me, but they were all too busy, and I had to prove myself!!!! and so the memory became traumatic. Reinforced the same story. 

I was just dumbfounded. She told me to go for a walk. To cry. She said grief just wants to be seen, heard, witnessed, accompanied... all the things I didn't have. Like I didn't have them with Krystin, or Chris. Like I had with Illy, once or twice, but not enough. Thats probably more accurate... my emotions are seen, I share them, but not enough. People assume I have it put together. They take my word for it. 

On Monday I realized I've let all my friends go too far again, but then a bunch of them reached out randomly. Rachel, Tim, Katie. All people who have been there in different ways at different times. And it sucks because I feel so drained that I actually just want to hide from them all. I don't want to make decisions. I don't want to follow up. I just want someone to catch me.

I am sick of having to make decisions for people, of having to hold stuff for them, of having to attend to them. I want to be selfish. I want to run away again. I want to not be impacted... be above it all. 

I need to cry, sleep, scream. Probably need more Advil. 

I started watching "Couples Therapy" tonight. I kind of love it. But its also just so hard to watch people suffer needlessly. 

I dunno... I just don't feel very healthy. Part of me wants a sick day. 

Other lives

 

Sometimes when I shower, I am reminded of Central America. I don't know why, but the feeling of the heat, the containment of the water, just sends me right back there. It's rather pleasant. It reminds me of opportunity and sunlight. There are no negative strings attached. 

The employees of my company are considering unionizing. I was sort of on the fence about whether this would be a good idea, but in the long run, I am pro union so I figured it would be a fun experiment. The other day the CEO sent out an anti-union email that made me fully commit to unionizing. I attended a meeting that night, and saw BN from Spirit of Truth was the outside organizer supporting. It's funny to think how many meetings I took part in, how it launched people into different spheres. How when it was over I needed to run. 

My mom told me Grant thinks I want power, but hold myself back. My Supervisor thinks the same, I am starting to piss her off I think. Which is funny. Funny how we invest in the potential we see. 

I was walking the lake last night. All of yesterday I kept getting irritated. I woke up that way, some of my first cogent thoughts were judgmental and totally not in character. I was biased. I don't like being that way, so all day long I was laughing at myself, and trying to put myself in a better place. Over and over again I was able to, but the crabbiness kept returning. Not entirely sure why. I was walking the lake grumbling over a particular line in the CEO's email which had to do with utilizing Walk-In's free counseling. Which felt like a really stupid thing to refer to in an anti union email. Walk-in uses a Solutions Focused model of counseling, meaning what can you do to problem solve this particular issue? Well the issue is I work for a mental health company that doesn't pay enough for me to seek mental health therapy.... solution?  Unionize. It felt silly. But as I was walking, I wanted to talk to someone from Walk-In who would have a knowledge of the big picture admin and also the therapist perspective, and M came to mind. And it was a moment where I wasn't angry at her, just missed her company and wanted to discuss the world. I even pictured running into her with her current dude, and figured it would be a great opportunity since he also has some of that macro knowledge. Anyway, it was a weird longing. 

Later in the day and this morning, I have been missing my life in St. Paul. Sure there were plenty of downsides: a single room in a shared house that I wasn't comfy in, across town from half the people I know, not exactly close to where I was working. But on the other hand there was walking down Selby, and being 6 blocks from Target, and all the little routines I had that made me satisfied. I miss getting salads at Whole Foods, and soyclones at J Selbys, and going to Starbucks and the Naughty Greek, cahoots and Jamba Juice. Gingko, and Goldengate Cafe (which closed so sad!). So many of my memories of St. Paul got wrapped up in the relationship, but on good days even the memories of living off Grand Ave, and staying at her apartment, or getting waffles are lovely. I really liked her apartment, I really liked the life we were creating, even if she didn't. 

It's been covid for more than half the time I have lived in this apartment and I haven't developed routines in public... other than walk to coffee shop or kowalskis and the lake. Yes I am close to two Chinese restaurants I frequent... but really I wake up and drive to BC, and then back to my apartment. I am not really seeing much of Minneapolis at all. I think it is also just not having anyone to share the memories with. I have more memories of Minneapolis when I was a teacher than I do in the last few years, less people around, more isolation. More making my own food. Taking things like coffee to go. I suppose I sit on benches at the lake more than I used to, but that's about it. 

Today in the shower, I was thinking about how lovely it was to be in a relationship. Again, it would have been better with a partner who actually wanted to be in a relationship with me, but even without that... I liked myself, liked the lifestyle. I really miss having someone to cherish. I haven't even really had a crush in a long time. I don't even know how I'll meet people anymore. I am not very friendly. 

The unionizing thing gave me a brief glimpse into my old life of running myself ragged. I am not sure I want that. But it also reminded me that I am not fulling engaged in anything... and even in work I am not fully committed. I have a part of me that sees an end date in a year or two... and then what?

I don't fully know. Life continues. 

My parents are turning 65 and retiring. They can't relate to my single life. I am not even sure I relate to my single life.

Oh the infinite possibilities.  I'd like to jump tracks to the next one.