Jealousy and NRE

I’ve begun to notice a pattern I have with regards to jealousy. Normally, I don’t think of myself as a jealous person, I have moments sure, as we all do, but as I gaze into my navel a larger picture becomes more clear. A wise lady once related to me her tale, she was with a gentleman affectionately known as X of Y, in that he was not the only focus of her attention. And yet when they were out one night she unexpectedly felt rather green about his flirtations with another. Upon reflection she realized this was because her relationship with him was still new and uncertain. It was the uncertainty of her standing that was causing issue. My hunch on the phenomenon is that when we know (or think we do) where we stand, we know what we bring to the table, are secure in our place and can thus compare ourselves more accurately.

Compare seems like the wrong word, it’s not a question of who is better but knowing what space we fill/occupy, and so it’s more clear that the other person is filling some other space and there’s less need to “fear for my job”. This is, of course, assuming that one has a reasonable understanding of who they are when they’re alone, are comfortable in that knowledge and thus have a useful baseline to which they can return.

Anyone who’s ever been in love ever knows in their bones the happy, giddy, irrational insecurity of the New Relationship Energy. This person is the most awesomest person ever and we should totally move in and get matching tattoos and be awesome 4EVAR! We’re wired for this as a species. It’s a chemical reaction that compels us to seek out mates with the force of stars slamming into each other, and if not handled carefully, with dramatic consequences of astronomical proportions.

In what is perhaps a testament to the primal and powerful force that this is, I note that in my heady(er) days of trying new things I acted more rationally with a head full of drugs, some so exotic they didn’t have street names yet, just some alphabet soup, than I do under the influence of NRE. I’ve had several sets of rules over the years tailored to keep me out of trouble during such times, and I’ve been able to follow them. And yet, when under the influence of the emotional tidewaters things that normally sound like *horrible* ideas, full of hubris, selfishness, bad planning, impulsive desires and insanity seem like the most compelling and reasonable plans a person could ask for. Even attempts to bounce ideas off of unaffected people to try to reduce the insanity only helps a little as the story I tell tends to be selective. It’s not that I’m trying to be sneaky, but because at the moment I really do need the thing I want or I’ll fucking die.

Really.

I’m just sure of it.

I’ve had to make blanket rules about things like not being allowed to set people up or otherwise interfere with a relationship if I’m dating either party. The things I need tend to overshadow the things they need and I push too hard (me? Pushy!?). Note that this is not the same as not being involved with anyone my partners choose to date. I’m just not allowed to play matchmaker or to lead or direct.

This leads me to the jealousy bit. In the throes of this delicious madness, I’m still trying to figure out the many ways I fit with this person. At this stage, anything is possible, there are so many roles I could play, nothing is certain but the drive to figure it out (often by trying out as many combinations as possible (ahem)).

If you’ve presence of mind enough to have a reasonable discussion about this, topics may include possible futures. For sure, talk about anyone with whom you’re currently involved and anyone who might be on the docket at that moment. Some light conversations about big pictures and goals and whatnot are also appropriate.

But for the love of Troy, don’t start heady conversations about the boy/girlfriends you want to seek out in the (near) future, wanting to find more lovers or subs or tops or spouses or what-have-you until a comfortable place has been reached, like, after the NRE has given us our brains back. Sure, I know it’s a possibility, and on an intellectual level I want you to be happy and find lots of friends and generally do your thing. I know that I’m not going to be your one and only, but my footing is still unsure, I don’t know where I fit yet, what I mean to you, and until I do I feel very replaceable. Things are delicate enough dealing with people who actually *are* involved and in play and juggling everyone’s feelings is a feat in itself without introducing hypothetical people as well. Now I have to compete with this person neither of us even knows about because I don’t know what I have to offer you that you want so I don’t know…..a lot.

There’s a lot of unknown. That beginning is a very delicate time where everyone wants to feel special and the crazy monkey inside is still under the influence of the “forever and always” drive, so it’s probably best to save the long rational discussions for when reason returns.

On how to be human...

Some thoughts from many years ago that help me stay grounded. When I remember them.

I take full responsibility for my emotional, physical, spiritual and mental well-being. I absolve all others, living or dead, present or absent, from any responsibility for my well-being, happiness, agency, creativity, potential or ability to act.
I agree to be be respectful in my behaviour by asking for what I want directly.
I agree to acknowledge feedback, understanding that acknowledgment does not need to indicate agreement. I take full responsibility for my participation in this process. I am willing to have learning and transformation happen in ways that are loving and kind to me and everyone else. My feelings are not my responsibility. They are often messy, irrational and not readily understandable. My feelings are an unarguable truth. "I feel happy/sad/excited/afraid"
I will honor that truth and my feelings. My *actions* are absolutely my responsibility. Every action and word is a deliberate and controllable choice and should be for the greatest good of all involved to the best of my abilities.

Principles:
Mindfulness
Paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment and non-judgmentally. This kind of attention nurtures greater awareness, clarity and acceptance of present moment reality. it wakes us up to the fact that our lives unfold only in moments. If we are not fully present to these moments, we may not only miss what is most valuable in out lives, but also fail to realize the richness and depth of out possibilities for growth and transformation.

Responsibility
To own one’s own experience. To acknowledge the event of experience, accept the feelings one felt of feels and the interpretations that one created without blame. take 100% responsibility for one’s own experience, being neither victim nor the enabler or persecutor.

Connectedness
“The Universe is unity, an interacting and genetically related community of beings bound together in an inseparable relationship in space and time; each being of the planet is profoundly implicated in the existence and functioning of every other being on the planet.” Thomas Berry

Somatosynthesis
Soma, means the body as experienced from within; synthesis, means the integration of elements into a unified whole, also, implying a particular method of realizing this whole. In this program somatosynthesis covers a wide range of methods and inner work that honor the body’s wisdom with the intent of healing and wholeness.

Self Expression
any form of creative expression that draws on inner sources: example - clay work, drawing, painting, dance, singing, music, writing, etc.

Truthfulness
To speak or write truthfully about one’s own experiences: sense, feel, think, want and do. This extends to the practice of speaking the “unarguable” truth.

Personal Knowing
Many of the above practices contribute to this sense of inner knowing along with a sense of self assurance and differentiation.

Flexibility
Fluid, yet grounded in the world: open to change, fluid like water. This applies to body, mind and spirit. As we know, they are interrelated. Examples of methods: somatic stretches, tai chi, movement, awareness of attitude, letting go.

Systemic Wisdom
An awareness of ourselves as systems and our inter-relationship within and to other systems; the ability to notice patterns in time and space that help us to have insight into out lives and the lives of others.

Commitment
The ability to express intentionality that arises out of a deep quality of caring, a sense of vision combines with responsibility and the ability to make, sustain and negotiate agreements leading to creative actions and being.

Creative, Conscious Living Skills.
Feelings:
Know what you are actually feeling when you are feeling it.
Discriminate between different feelings and sensations. i.e., between hunger and fear.
Know where your experience feelings in your body
Know the true source of your feelings (i.e. Some people thing the source of their anger is their
ex-wife, when it is actually in their relationship with their mother.)
Be able to talk about feelings in such a way that other people understand..
Be able to focus attention on feelings until they are no longer an issue.

Truth:
Communicate the details of what is going on in any given moment in a way that doesn’t blame
anyone.
Take responsibility for communication until the other person comprehends.
Be the source and initiator of truth in any situation.
Know the body sensations and experiences associate with being in a state of truth and
transparency and those associated with withholding.
Be able to tell the truth under duress.

Agreements:
Keep the agreements you make
Do not make agreements that you don’t want to make
Select arguments that you do not want to make
Know how to change agreements if they are not working
Come to the realm of making agreements from seeing that keeping agreements increases aliveness, rather than seeing that the world is making you do something

“If you try to dominate other people, you’re already defeated”
“People always do the best way they know how.”

Myths and Preconceptions about Feelings
Trish McKenny and Ebo Teichmann, Reach for the Stars 1997.

1. if I really feel my feelings, I’ll be overwhelmed.
2. if i allow myself to feel my feelings completely, they will never go away.
3. Feeling my feelings will make me irrational.
4. feeling my feelings will make me lose control.
5. feelings are dark, evil, dangerous and the work of the devil.
6. Allowing myself to fully feel my feelings is sinful.
7. I can choose not to have the feelings I don’t want.
8. Having strong feelings means that I am indulging myself.
9. Feeling my feelings means that I am weak. Strong people control their feelings.
10. When I ignore (suppress, distract myself from, anesthetize myself from, etc.) my feelings,
they go away.
11. Feelings have no place in rational behaviour.
12. Feelings are contagious from one person to another.
13. The best way to help someone in the grip of strong feelings is to try to talk them out of
having feelings.
14. Having the feelings of _________means _________.
15. Having strong feelings means that I am immature or unstable.
16. Expressing strong feelings to a person I am close to endangers the relationship and therefor I must never do it.
17. Other people can make me feel ____________.
18. I am helpless in the grip of my feelings.
19. If I feel something strongly, I’ll have to act on it.
20. Feelings are inferior to thoughts.
21. Feelings are not to be trusted.
------------------
“The deeper sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.” -Gibran

“Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you cannot bear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyond that pain.” Bartholomew

“Courage is mastery of fear, not absence of fear” Mark Twain

Anger
“There are so many roots to the tree of anger that sometimes the branches shatter before they bear” Audre Lorde

“If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom in your hands?” Gibran

Anger is useful. Anger isn’t good or bad, it just is.
My anger is good for me, I can deal with anger effectively.
I pay attention to what my anger has ti teach me.
Anger is a survival tool, it can protect me.
Knowing how to handle anger is a survivor’s skill.

Constructive Anger
Express feelings honestly to yourself be tactful and honest with others
Try to see the world through the other person’s eyes, even though you disagree
Do something productive to solve the problem
Eventually let go of the anger, learn something and feel happy again.
Commit yourself to others' happiness, your goal is to feel closer to her or him
Look for a win/win solution

Destructive Anger
Deny your feelings or express by lashing out and attacking another
Argue defensively and make the other person wrong
Give up and see yourself as victim
Let anger become addictive. Don't let go of it
Avoid or reject the other person write him or her off
Continue to battle and compete. If one person wins, the other has to lose.
------------------
Be brave. It takes courage to be happy.

Of possible interest to my Polywogs

The Youtube collection of colossal fuck-ups and the lessons so far:

1. Don't be a Dick.
This sounds simple but it's actually a multiple part series. You see, not being a dick requires constant check-ins and feedback. On this journey we are not carving new relationships out of the living rock. We are not pristine blocks of marble from which we simply carve away everything that is not a statue. We are heaps of precariously places boulders and rubble all set as temporary fixes to immediate problems that seemed to hold, so we forgot that the layer was mostly bubblegum and duct tape and built on top of it. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Indeed it is what all us irrational pattern seeking monkeys do from the time we are born, we fit the world together the what it makes sense to us at the time.

As we grow up, we start to re-structure. We learn new names for things, new ideas, new ways to stack the rocks we already have and get new ones to fill in the cracks. The important thing to remember is that we are never done with this process. There are always new rocks that will fit somewhere.

As anyone who is familiar with blocks and piles knows, when you move something in the pile, the rest shifts a little. And there's no way of knowing whether that giant boulder will cause no movement at all or that tiny pebble will be the thing that starts an avalanche. It is because we want a strong foundation that we take that risk, and really, if a pebble can cause a landslide, the stack wasn't that stable to begin with. These moments of failure are really blessings, helpers, universal forces who undo our childlike attempts and show us the right way. We can be childish when this happens, throw a fit, pout, cry, make it someone else's fault or quit. Or, we can be childlike and curious, seeing there are things we do not know and keeping a heart of gratitude and adventure to learn the strength of the true thing, and not just the flash of the appearance.

This is when the pile is just us. When there are other people we care about in our lives, things get more complicated. Our piles start to get closer to each other, and a shift in ours can have a small or massive effect on those we love.

A good rule of thumb is, if you have discovered something new about yourself, if you've changed something, learned, decided to do something better or different, the people around you are directly affected. Odds are really, really good that those closest to you have been compensating and adapting and working with that thing, and when you change and grow if you don't deliberately ask your partner(s) how they feel, how it has affected them, what their thoughts are and *thank them* for their support thus far, it doesn't feel awesome to be them. No matter how trivial a thing may feel to you, it may have been a colossal burden to them. One that the bravely bore, to be sure, because they love you, but think of it like taking something heavy off a waiter's tray without asking. You think you're helping, but unless you talk and listen there could be a spectacular display of physics as they try to adapt. Or, more like you've been holding a door closed, and they've been helping you, shouldering a good part of the burden and straining to help. You suddenly decide that door doesn't need to be closed anymore and move without warning. They stumble to catch their balance, and when they do, they *will* be waiting, wanting, yearning for some sort of acknowledgment that their help was appreciated.

If you have changed any rules, or figured out things that have been bugging you stop and evaluate. My most recent example is coming up with specific rules for different partners for dates and parties. I discovered after writing them down, the things that made me feel not-awesome were the very things I'd been doing to those I loved. If it is a rule for someone else, hold yourself to the same standard unless you've explicitly agreed to do something else. And not just consent, Enthusiastic Participation. If they have to be home at a certain time, so do you. If they can't leave/have marks, neither can you. If you decide to change a rule, say, that marks are ok now, this is one of those shifting boulders that needs settling and checking in and talking and agreeing before one acts on it.
Ad hoc changes are for people who don't mind swimming for the bridges they've burnt.

Coming up with party rules was a very recent development, and we've yet to find the time to go over them. I imagine I've got a bit of emotional fallout coming because of events past. I was, in fact, a dick. I made assumptions and decisions based on what I thought I would be fine with and told my partner he should have been fine with it too. I based my expectations of his experience on my own and couldn't understand why my introverted, stoic partner at his first event full of people he didn't know would possibly feel hurt or left out when I wanted to leave him while we were on vacation together with no clear rules or expectations other than that he was on vacation with his wife, to go out with some guy I just met.

Clearly he should have introduced himself better, been clearer about volunteering information that wasn't clear to him, asserted needs he wasn't sure he even had and just gone out and met some hot thing to keep him occupied while I was away. Easy as pie.

Total Dick.

Sure, he needs to be responsible for making his needs known, for telling me how he's feeling and for how he presents himself to the world. But I need to think about what *I* want too. Do I want to have a brief fling with lots of drama, or do I want to pull my head out of my clit for 5 minutes and built a future? Do I want this to be fun just for me or do I want everyone to have fun? This could mean I have to pull back, I have to give up some things I want to make sure everyone is pretty happy and wanting to do it again and better next time instead of having me ecstatic, until the aftermath where I discover that my fun came at the expense of making others miserable, hurt and angry. Do I want a disposable toy or do I want to build clan, with all the shiny and all of the work that separates the Poly community from the swingers.

How I discovered I was being a dick was twofold. One, I have two fabulous men that are smart and I trust tell me they both observed the same patterns in separate conversations. One person says you do a thing, you can argue the point. Two people tell you, it's not them, it's you (DAMNIT!) Second, I got a taste of my own medicine. At an event the person I was with found something shiny. He wanted to go play and instead of asking questions and thinking about what I really needed, I gave the answer I thought I should to make him happy and answered from a place I wasn't but thought I should have been. I consented, but not enthusiastically. So, when it came time to do the thing, the things I'd not stopped to consider became big, red, candy-like buttons and I wound up walking alone, in the dark, through the woods looking for something to do. This story does have a happy ending because my people are awesome and this person in particular reads me like a book no matter how much I try to hide it.

But the point is, if the extroverted bubbly one who knows half the freaks there and can get into adventures and have fun during *JURY DUTY* was feeling alone and abandoned and emo and not awesome, how much more for the others before me that I'd treated thus? Clearly, they are better men than I because I'd have had a screaming pouty fit if I'd done that to me.

Trust me, if you don't stop and ask other people if you are being a dick, you are. If you think everything is fine and others are just being too sensitive or needy or demanding or dumb, you are the dick. Poly is about finding the Pareto Optimal point where everyone wins. If you're not actively seeking that level, actively engaging in looking at what other people need and checking to make sure you're reading correctly and getting the whole message, and if you're not doing these things with a gentle, open heart, ready to hear that you may not be perfect and the people you love need you without throwing a fit or getting defensive, you are the one everyone is walking on eggshells around. If it seems too easy, that's because others are picking up your slack. Don't be "that guy."

Don't be a dick.

Teamwork

There are lots of great things about having multiple partners at the same time. You get to do things with one that the other thinks are silly, or at least not their cup of tea, stretch different parts of yourself that meet in different areas, when one is busy the other can play, and having multiple people being nice to you makes you more nice to them.
There are also some good parts that are less fun. Like when they gang up on picking on you and suddenly it's like having two older brothers in the house and you ahve to remember that you did this deliberately. Or when you've been having conversations with your primary for years and years in a certain way and you do this thing that you don't think you do but you totally do and when he gets to talking to the other man and they're all "oh, ya, she totally does that" and I'm all "crap, maybe I do."
Those are great learning moments.

Between the two of them, I learned that when I have a "discussion" or when I sense that someone is upset...wait. back up.
I'm very uncomfortable when people are angry around me. It doesn't even have to be *at* me, just in my vicinity and I start to go all kinds of alarm and warming up systems and checking missile bay doors and escape routes. This comes from growing up in a house where "mad" was a step away from physical or verbal abuse. And as I think back on it now, there was a specific marker that heralded the crossover. My mum would get angry, and common to her particular brand of broken, would get what some in the kids-with-borderline-parents community call "hunter eyes" or my favorite, "shark eyes" Her pupils would get really big and she would start to loose control. Apparently it's not uncommon to experience a blackout during that period, so she'd not remember all the terror of her rage. Must be nice. (maybe that's why people's eyes on "substances" that dilate pupils freak me out a bit...hmmm)
Anyway, another component of this exchange was the fact that at the best of times, borderlines don't have the strongest grasp on objective reality. They see the world in black and white, there is no middle, no "good person who occasionally makes mistakes" and so in order to survive her head monkeys she had to rewrite history to make her totally right and someone else totally wrong. So when we started to sense the Change, the only real recourse we had was to present a counter-story that pleaded to her rapidly retreating rational brain presenting the facts as you understood them. See, part of this was the assumption of intent. She assumed you did things for a certain reason, because that's the way it makes sense in her head and no one would do anything for reasons she didn't understand, right? So you had to lay out your intent as rapidly and convincingly as possible to try to bed the beast down again, but not go too far, because you couldn't say that she was wrong, only that you weren't deliberately attacking either.

Naturally, some details got smoothed over in the process, because when you're arguing with a mind-shifting crazy person who doesn't believe in gray area, to admit any fault was to admit total fault, and thus alleviate any guilt over what came next because obviously I deserved it, right?

So, when I'm in any sort of conversation with someone who has a point that implies i fucked up, the instinct is not so much to say "no I didn't" but to present the case of my intentions and background and reasoning that makes it perhaps a wrong thing but a forgivably wrong thing so can we review what to do next time and move along before this gets bad and you loose track and I....oh, wait.

I'm not under attack any more. There was a very good reason this very important and useful strategy developed, pretty much as soon as I could talk. Problem is, with people who are sane, or at least crazy in different and fun ways, this can be very invalidating and frustrating because it feels like they're not being heard. Which they're not. Because I've left the room and am running a completely different program.

So when the boys start to compare notes, or rather when I have "discussions" with both on the same day and tell the one about the other and the one is like "ya, you totally do that. I thought it was just me and I'm not as articulate or organized with my thoughts so I start to doubt myself and assume you're right." Soo, ya. When two people you love and respect and want to have good relationships with are telling you the same thing, perhaps it's time to listen.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: It's hard for me to get out of that pattern once it starts. I have a feeling it would be easier to keep me out of it from the beginning. So saying something like "so, I have this thing that I need to say, and I need you to hear me, so please don't interrupt until I'm done and just listen." might be helpful. And if I seem to be getting deflective, asking something like "so can you reflect back to me what you think i just said" could keep me in, you know, the conversation I'm actually having.
And it doesn't have to be all flowery and clinical. "I need to say something and I want you not ot get your knickers in a twist and actually listen to what I'm' saying instead of jumping in to redefine things because I love you but you're working my tits and we need to talk"
"art of war, chapter one, shoosh and get all the information first, eh?"

B: so basically what you're saying is that you were trained from a young age to become a master of the ninja way of deflecting and invalidation. And P and I get to try to retrain you bit by bit. Because the skills that you learned over the course of a decade on a Tibetan mountain top are inadvertently getting in the way of us feeling like you understand and care about what we're feeling, and you want to fix this so we can all be in a better place together.
That about sum it up?

me: two and a half decades, and yes. except instead of trying to beat the ninja head on, which is unlikely, because I'm very vary good at this game, because there were times when my life literally depended on it, and I like being alive, I'm trying to show you and P how to "sweep the leg" and come at me from the side. Because I'm pretty sure I've got that whole "being and staying alive" part down, and now what I'd like to be is happy. And to make the people I care about happy.

B: ok, well then tell P that another sweep technique is that when you start talking a lot and going on and on and explaining yourself and your perception of things.... that's a sure sign that you are in the zone, and he/I/we need to interrupt you and hit your reset button."

See? They're helpers. And that is why my life is awesome.

I have a habit of going quiet when things are going well. I think this has two parts. One stems from growing up and having the calm/storm times seem pretty random. When something was amiss, we tried to survive or solve it. This could include subtle storms when we were supposed to use our psychology skills to do whatever new thing M learned about that week, or the outright ones where you try to minimize physical damage, but without *looking* like you were trying to, because that would only anger the Tempest and make it worse.
When things were happy, peaceful, and going well the inclination was to not talk about it, look at it and try not to spook it for as long as possible.

I also hear some people bitching about other people sending out the holiday update letters or being too braggy and "oh look how great my life is" and so I think I was even more worried about being one of "those people."

But really, fuck that noise. I had to read the whole of "Atlas Shrugged" (save most of the radio broadcast, I mean really, I'd already read 800 pages, I got the point) to stop being sorry I was good at math. I've worked a hell of a lot harder to create the life I have now and I'm not sorry about it at all. I've spent years doing really awkward, painful, risky things that meant carving into my soul, asking questions I'd rather have left alone and having some really dreaded conversations with people all so that I could find my center. I've had to take more deep breaths and jump, screw my courage to more sticking places and deliberately make myself uncomfortable more times than I care to think about. By the gods, I've *earned* this happiness.

And I really am. It's not all sunshine and roses, I still fuck up and there is always more work to do. I'm not saying that everything is perfect in a way that means I'm all done now, but I've got a good system and a good set of people in my life who are interested in doing better. And that's really what it's all about.

My relationship with my husband is going swimmingly. We have a few things to do but I finally feel like we're on solid ground and have the tool kit built up to handle whatever comes next with grace and humor. He's started getting a little goofy again and seems more comfortable around others and that really warms my heart.
My other man is exactly perfect for me, the best con swag ever. We seem to be on the same page about so much, especially the pages about finding stuff out and wanting the other one to be better. I've spent so much of the last few months shoring others up that I'd forgotten what the return was. I've had to relearn how to trust him not just with the ability to handle what comes up, but with the possibility that he'll even see it coming and manage it before it becomes a thing. It's been interesting to learn to relate to someone who speaks my language again in a close family type role. He also seems to have a way about him that bypasses some of my defense grid. This has been useful in that much of that grid is not needed now that I've stopped opening myself up to people who were attacking me. Every time I take a breath and get ready to open a door to him, I turn around and realize he's already on the other side. This has helped me to see just how many doors I've been keeping shut that I really don't need to. It's good to change the air now and again.

I'm happy, and even when there is work it's that satisfying wear-you-out-but-it-feels-good sort instead of the kind that sucks your soul and feels like a ball of molasses you have to push up a mountain.

Things are good. I hope they get better, for everyone involved, especially for those making interesting decisions. But whatever they decide, I've carved my happy home out of the rubble of what came before and I'm not letting go. And I'm not sorry.

I have a confession....

I really enjoy elementary school music presentations. Like, a lot. Not so much I'm going to start crashing random recitals, but if a friend's kid is singing a song and I have to sit through an hour of tortured Beethoven, I dig it.

First, to anyone who thinks the sound is awful, it kind of is. But I have friends who make power noise, and the percussion is *supposed* to sound like a grinder on a garbage can. That's the finished product. These kids are going to get better.

They're also awesome to watch. It's like a slice of the cosmos behind that dim proscenium in the cafeteria. All these different levels of proficiency and attention, harmonics where there really shouldn't be any, the notes of chaos that somehow manage to rough in the theme of each piece, sharps and flats kind of canceling each other out. Hell, sometimes the moose calls of the horn section are even in the same key.

They try and they're proud of what they do. And then when they pause for a moment, say to let the string section do their bit, Entropy! They start out still, and then start to jiggle and vibrate as the order of the conductor that contained them looses its grasp. The jiggling becomes shifting becomes giggling becomes the back row bonking each other with drumsticks and dropping chairs.

The parents are there for torture in the name of love, proud of their offspring and the future. The kids have fun, I'm grinning like an idiot the entire time because it's just magical, thinking of the South Park episode where Cartman yells at Kenny for screwing up the song, when the whole band sounds like they're trying to strangle a violin *with* a cat in heat.
Babies make themselves known, little siblings try to join their big brother/sister on stage, parents are vying for the camera shot. It's a big, fat slice of "look what I made!"

Love. It.

one perfect moment.

Every now and again, things line up in such a way that make any other notion than I lead and utterly charmed life impossible to entertain. I work a lot of jobs, one of them is stage managing at the Northwest Folklife festival. This is my 8th year, and began and continues as a way for me to get my theatre fix every year since I don't really have time to do much else. I've been stage managing since I was sixteen, so the ins and outs of the job are no surprise. This particular gig winds up being stage and house managing because my stage is very intimate and the doors for performers and audience are the same.
I was toying with the notion of asking for a different stage this year as I'd been working with the same acts for quite a while and was curious to see what the rest of the festival had to offer. When the offer for the contract came, I was in the middle of a full time button mashing contract and didn't really remember that I meant to shake things up a a bit. I'm' glad I didn't. At FL this year, there were a few people in high places who moved on, so everyone one kind of moved up a step. It's been interesting to watch because you can see the pet problems that people wanted solved from below, and now they finally have the power to make that happen. One of the changes has been my stage. I feel like they finally have a feel for what my stage can do. A lot of things they were expecting to be a crowd issue weren't, one thing was. Friday I started earlier than usual after putting in work at 2 other jobs, so I was kind of tired and cranky. friends have been there throughout the day to help out, and today when one finally had to leave one of my favorite MCs came in and continued to rock my world. Me stage has been almost perfectly full all weekend long, not to much, not to sparse. pretty good. And still I'm tired and kinds of cranky because the hipster showcase with the piercing acid jazz while I have a migraine fills me with a burning hate.

It's easy to get caught up in the "gig." Just do the work, get them in, get them out, next.

Tonight my last act was magic, pure and simple. They were musicians who've been playing longer than I've been alive, each phenominal in their own right. This year they shook things up a bit and played together in what amounted to a Celtic jam band. I was winding down, locking doors in the back, cleaning up and poked my head in. And couldn't walk away. They were having a fantastic time on stage. The ease and grace with which they played, the natural, organic connection from which beautiful music flowed... they were having fun. relaxed, happy, just being who they were. Then I looked out into the house and Every. Single. person was smiling. Everyone was picking up on the band's vibe and in the middle of my exhausted cynical day was a room full of happy. Genuine, warm fuzzy happiness. Some ladies came down to swing dance to the jigs and they did very well, twirling and swirling and missing and picking back up and laughing the whole time. My MC asked my sound guy who'd been having a day of epic frustration if they could do one more after they were supposed to be done. I didn't know this so when he let them go, I snuck behind the stage and asked if it was ok? He said R had approved it, I said "of *course* you asked R, how could I ever doubt you?"

When they were done, I blinked and the whole house was on their feet. I've been doing this 8 years. Don't remember a standing ovation. Then the band pointed to R, and the house turned to applaud my sound man, who is awesome and made of unicorns and really deserves the recognition. And then R said, sure, one more.

So they played a waltz that one of the fiddlers wrote 30 years ago and loves to bits. And people came down. My floor was filled with happy couples at the end of a magic night. No one was self conscious, no one was awkward. There was no tomorrow, no worry, no past, no pretense. Nothing but the music and that single feeling that filled my theatre and spilled into the lobby then the dance floor and the stage and the aisles were full. I had forgotten that magic from my early days in high school when I would lead my gang of tool using thespians to one moment of "yes, we did it, and we are awesome." In a gang of high school misfits or complete strangers, giving them one moment where they absolutely belong, that one absolutely perfect moment is why I do this. I have never, as a stage manager, cried before. I've wanted to out of frustration and fatigue and people who get annoyed when I guard their safety or steal my food. This meeting of hearts and music in front of me was so beautiful that I could not hold back a tear, nor would I have wanted to.

I have a bank of memories that I keep of utterly beautiful moments so that when I nee to pull something out to remind to of the things that aren't falling down around me I have some "stock footage."
This is going there.

I miss you

It has come to my attention that I've been somewhat remiss in my posting of late. It's not because I have nothing to say, it's not because I don't like you. The most obvious and socially acceptable reason is that I've been utterly swamped. I took a grading project and accepted my post as a stage manager at Folklife before I got a full time, but temporary,job. So, for the last week and the next, I've hardly had time to think about something that wasn't random data that I'm either trying to find and mark a pattern in (full time) or, Gods help me, semi random data in the form of high school book reports that I'm supposed to make suggestions for on how to turn them into coherent statements. Also, one chunk of data at the desk and computer job involved looking at badly spelt searches to see if the user meant this thing, or that other thing. I swear, I'll never be able to spell Philadelphia without spellcheck again.

The other reason is that, oddly, I've found that when things are going well I don't find the need to comment on them as much. Perhaps i don't want to 'break the spell,' perhaps I'm too busy out there being rad that I don't have time to blog about it. This can lead to the possibility that people think I'm bummed out a lot because that's the only thing you read if you're not here in the radness with me.

I shall attempt to correct this in the form of regular blogging, rad or suck. For example, this weekend was my one island of breathing room in a few weeks of hard burn. To coin a phrase, "I confessed a certain something to someone, and although I was quite worried about the process, it turned out pretty darn good in the end."

I'm never quite sure when I'm supposed to be rational and reserved and reasonable and other restrictive words that begin with "r" and when I'm supposed to just take a deep breath and dive in and surrender to the current and let life wash over me. I've tried the "keeping it pretty locked down" track, and that worked out ok, but I'm trying this "you know what, fuck it, Imma jump" thing lately, and it's working out rather well. And by "rather well" I mean "sometimes I'm almost afraid I'll get overwhelmed by the beauty in the world and what I feel so I try to hold on and it gets even scarier...."
OH, I have a great example story for this. OK, so when I try to do all bendy stretchy things in yoga, I've learned that when I try to hold on and moderate the stretch, to keep back a little and use tension in other parts of my body to "moderate" the stretch, that's when things start to cramp up and hurt and get stiff. But the more I can relax, the more I breathe into the part and just surrender to the movement, focusing on lining my bones up and letting softness take over, I get into much deeper places and less cramping and more awesomeness.

And now I must shower and try to convince this migraine to give me just one more week before setting in. I can hold it at bay, but I need to make it to June 1 and then I can rest.

Fox News: explained

On the bus this morning, heading over 520 we hear an announcement. It seems there's a van on fire in the right hand, west bound lane just before the western rise. Naturally this begins a bit of flurry from a few folks, especially one or two up front who seem to be chatty but perhaps not seamlessly in tune with social customs at all times. (ahem)

in a few short minutes we cross the rise, and lo! there is a poor commuter guy with his laptop bag standing on the bridge watching his old minivan demonstrate a rather rapid exothermic chemical change. Science is Fun!

We get just off the bridge and a second announcement comes on, indicating that 520 is now closed in both directions, and buses what can should use I-90. Whew. I seem to have really good timing for this sort of thing. Up to now, both announcements have been accurate with regards to the details.
Shortly after this, a third announcement comes on, a different speaker, female, and gets it all correct save that she says "eastbound" lanes. One of the chatty folks then says "Ohhhh, *eastbound* lanes."

...really? I was stunned. it was as though someone knocked me, not too hard, but still in the chest. We *just* drove by there, not 5 minutes ago. Hell, it wasn't even 3 minutes ago. We are *in* the eastbound lanes, we clearly saw the fire, with our own eyes, facing the other direction in on the side of the road not-ours. You have *first hand, eye-witness* data, two radio reports that support your observations, and because one person on the radio got one thing wrong you've restructured your whole reality. If it's from the magic box, it must be true right?
I thought, goddamn.....no *wonder* Fox News is still on the air. If some people are willing to surrender their reason to an "official" source for an event they know, for a fact, to be otherwise, how many more out there are willing to roll over for something that doesn't sound right, but is probably true? How much bullshit are people really willing to take?

How many times have I *known* something to be true and allowed someone's opinion to override my fact because I didn't believe in myself?

Santa?

Many years ago some of my friends reenvisioned the holidays. This is part of the inspiration for some of the weird shit we get up to around traditionally heavy days. Family and societal expectations and baggage can add up to a heady mix of drama, guilt and suck to go with your eggnog. I'm not saying you should ignore your family on Christmas...but there's nothing wrong with having a cookie battle with dinosaurs and MST3K pron after either. Valentines day that's just friends hanging out being goofy because half of you are sleeping with each other's husbands anyway (with permission, of course. We have manners after all), Easter spent in a hotel full of nerds, the year is full of opportunities to dance the line between the traditions of Past Me and creating a Now that Future Me will look fondly on.


http://www.tinkertank.org/Home/Home.html

oh happy day

There's been a lot of emo in this blog lately. Well, to say that discounts the reality of it. Honestly, I'm glad of the experience of it. I'm glad it's over, don't get me wrong. I'm not the sort who enjoys my unhappiness for the sake of unhappiness. Emotional pain, like physical pain is really just an unambiguous reminder that I'm alive. Pain can't hurt me, it's just a signal alerting me to another state, a potential danger that I'm then able to examine and analyze. Some of the moments, even though hard, still have a haunting beauty that I'd not trade for the world. I don't regret a single thing because, one, there's no point and two, it's gotten me where I am now.

And that, is someplace wonderful. I've been rather on the fence about whether to post certain things here or to start an anonymous type blog that gets into the finer details of the way I'm doing things. Then I remember that if any of my whole tens of readers aren't keen on it, well, there's a whole internet out there for you to like, I don't need that responsibility. I still don't feel the need to go cathartic with the disgusting details, but I don't feel worried about mentioning that I do honestly believe that one of the reasons we are here to experience and to create the experience of love and joy in the way it most makes sense to us. That the Universe benefits from our collective experience and when one of us finds happiness, we all find a little. So one focus that I keep coming back to is to stay on my own path, my own feet, my own joy and where others meet me, well, that's where the magic happens.

Part of this is being honest with myself. Sometimes I want something so much I try to force it. Don't we all? It never freaking works, because all that time forcing something has taken me off center an when I finally get the thing, it's not what I want because I don't even know where my feet are anymore. I'm trying to be more honest with myself and with others. I can't be more honest with others unless I know what I want in the first place, and the first step to that is figuring out why I'm afraid I might get it. What would happen if I succeed? If I fail? What happens if I just sit on my ass in my little pillow fort of fear and don't do a goddamn thing. At least failure is interesting.

So there's been a change of cast. The leads are still the same, but some of the character parts have exited and others have come onto the stage. I must say I'm rather pleased at the change. Many of the things that I've been making excuses for and leading and nudging and nurturing and waiting for are here. I'm frequently pleasantly surprised at the difference in starting place, or rather, the difference in meeting place between this new person and I. We're on the same page, but we've moved to a different chapter and many things I've wanted for a long time are finally looking like they're within reach. Spaces I can go to in my head, spaces I can go to in my body, the give and take doesn't feel like work, like something "to do" but something that just is done.

I'm trying not to attach too much to the future. I'm trying not to get too excited about potential in case it doesn't come true. But I think I can let a lot of that go. This one seems to understand the terms for what they are, and doesn't just consent to them, but is enthusiastically participant in the process both of having learned, of learning more and of meeting me where I seem to find myself at the moment. It could be there's more here. I'm not worrying about that at the moment. Future Me will handle it, she totally can.

For now I have a hale and hearty man in the fields, with whom I feel closer and more affectionate than I have in a long while. I feel like even the conversations and moments I'm careful about don't need to be as careful. that we're both in better place to trust each other and to take care of the little things in little ways.

I have one bonus man in the stable. Our relationship is just budding, but it seems we want very similar things, these some of these are very different from the space where HHM and I meet, and even in the short time I've been here, really looking into the two very different parts of myself have lead to a strengthening and spilling over of joy from one relationship into the other. And that's really what it's about for me, increasing the joy beyond the sum of its parts for everyone involved who chooses to play along.

I'm happy.
I'm also tired, because my happiness spilled over into the wee hours of yesterday, and it's now the wee hours of today, and my inner clock is a toddler who is convinced as soon as the sun comes up it's time for cereal and cartoons. I'm working on that. in the meantime, I sleep.

#22 Growing Downward

Be broken to be whole.
Twist to be straight.
Be empty to be full.
Wear out to be renewed.
Have little and gain much.
Have much and get confused.

So wise souls hold to the one,
and test all thing against it.

Not showing themselves,
they shine forth.
Not justifying themselves,
they're self-evident.
Not praising themselves,
they're accomplished.
Not competing,
they have in all the world no competitor.

What they used to say in the old days,
"Be broken to be whole,"
was that mistaken?
Truly, to be whole
is to return.

Super Powers

This post really doesn't have much to do with anything in particular. I suppose you could connect it to recent events and glean some sort of meaning, but that would be your experience and what you need to see. Still, don't let that keep you.

One of the advantages of growing up in a household where I could go from "safe" to "not safe" at the drop of a hat was that I got really good at reading people. Like, really a lot. When people say random things that don't correspond to what they mean at all, I know exactly what they meant to say. When people I care about can't say anything at all, they don't really have to. I've since trained myself to back out of peoples' heads because 1) it freaks them out and 2) I'm not really serving anyone. Sure, if it's a delicate situation having an extra measure of empathy is helpful. I remember in a class on German History in college we were watching a video of Hitler, and there was an elder woman in class who'd grown up right in the middle of his psychosis. She was sitting on the other end of the room, far behind me in the dark and I remember getting hit with waves of grief. I was thinking it was some part of my experience in having lived there many years later, but I squared with that and the feeling didn't go away. I literally felt like I was in the ocean getting hit with wave after wave of heavy sadness. I finally heard her sniffle a bit, knew exactly who it was, got up and sat with my arm around her for the rest of the film.
And yet I find it easy to second guess myself and assume that things I pick up are either not real or are not what they seem to be, that I'm projecting something on to them and so I try to play down their importance. I don't want to be completely irrational, after all.

I remember the moment that I realized that I had a great capacity for affecting people, and in that moment also realized that it was utterly unacceptable for me to use that for harm.

I was in high school, and after a particularly dramatic breakup in full adolescent glory, decided I needed to get revenge on my former boyfriend. I now realize that I was feeling hurt at having been so easily and quickly replaced, that it shook my own sense of value and worth to have been passed over. This was still when I thought that if I forced my heart into someone's hands they would take care of it the way I wanted them to because if I loved them that meant they had to love me in a way that made sense to me...right? I did mention having some....quirky role models didn't I?

At any rate, I needed my power back. I didn't know that I'd given it to him in the first place and all I really had to do was claim it. I needed revenge. I came up with a plan. In retrospect it's absurdly simple, playing on the insecurities of teenagers is like trying to catch a fish that's been batter fried and served to you on a plate with chips. But at the time it came so naturally and clearly that I was a little caught up in the power.

I had my friend, whom he did not know, hand him a note on which I had written only two words:
They Know.

It was *delicious.* It was awesome. It was breathtakingly effective. For two weeks my network of cohorts in on the joke kept watch over him in class and watches him empty every dusty corner and skellington of his psyche onto the floor and wonder in turn:
Oh my god.....it's ____, no, wait, it couldn't be that.....there's no way. No, it's not that.....OH my GOD it's____

He never mentioned any of this, but it seems watching this drama dance about on his face was highly entertaining. Finally, one girl took pity on him and let him in on the secret. At that point, I'd had my revenge, I felt utterly sated. I'd watched his mind prey on him just as mine had preyed on me in the dark hours of the night, and I felt completely even.
He, of course, never spoke to me again, and I don't blame him at all. I'd have probably made and exception to the "no hitting girls" rule for that kind of stunt. I'd managed to find a say to make him utterly miserable for a fortnight, and yet told myself that I hadn't really done anything but turn loose the beasts already there. That if he'd been a good person he'd have had nothing to worry about. The ease with which I devised, implemented and justified this little experiment kind of alarmed me. My mother is very good at this game as well, which is why I've never kept a journal, or been too public with my thoughts until now, years after I've cut myself off from her and have reclaimed my own power from the source. For years after I would see how she would counsel friends in her capacity as psychologist, and then use secrets confessed to her in the sacred space of healing as ammunition in arguments. It stunned me that someone who called themselves healer could so casually throw someone under the bus to preserve their own sense of "rightness."
The moment after I discovered that the prank was over, I decided that I was not ready for that kind of power, and that I would not use it unless it was very clearly helping everyone involved. I did slip up a few times, most of those still in high school. I was able to catch myself before I got more than a sentence or two deep and retreated very hastily. The feelings that accompanied those fuck-ups were very good motivators. I don't like to get in f2f arguments, and when something is bothering me I often let it sit for days until it simmers to the real issue so I don't let fly in a fit of passion with something that is harmful. Intense emotional states bring with them a certain clarity for me, and in arguments it's very tempting to reach for the nearest thing to throw...which is often the very last thing I would touch for someone I love. I like to avoid that sort of thing.

Borrowed Faith

I seem to do things back to back, stack 'em up and get it out. Life likes to double up on miscarriages, the death of friends, jobs coming and going and other things of a sucktastic nature. Recently it's been a bit of heartache, back to back like two phoenix bursting into flames. My birds are looking poorly at the moment, and yes they'll grow back into something beautiful, but right now my life smells like burnt feathers. Turns out the anxiety of my birds is based on similar things, and the best course of action is to listen to the runes and sit still for a while.

So, I've decided to spend a little time on myself. A wise woman told me about a tradition of looking into the seven basic emotions that make up human experience, and how they connect over a course of 49 days. I've decided to spent the next 18 weeks until Mr. H's school ends working on what I've got, clearing out my house and my head. Putting new things on hold for now so I can juggle what I have with more grace and beauty, and perhaps become more of what I'm trying to convince the people I care about that I am. If I make room, maybe new things will fit better.

A single game of chess

Patience has never been a virtue that came easily to me. I like things now, preferably five minutes ago, unless it's something I have to do, and then I'll get to it later.

The only time that I can recall patience feeling perfectly natural was when I sat next to Mr. H in class many years ago. Fate put me at his table, and for a quarter we bonded over being smart and having a professor who was condescending, vague and often flat wrong. He was with someone else at the time, as was I, and I was possessed by the entirely new feeling of "want, but can wait for it." I had an unshakable confidence that he would come back around when the time was right, and everything would happen as it was supposed to. A lot has happened since then, a lot has changed, and all of it has built from that moment of patience and made my life better.

I was playing a game of chess with a friend a while back, and we were analyzing my strategy. He noted that I was not playing aggressively. I saw that I was expecting not to win, which was reasonable since I'm still essentially a beginner who has just enough game to be moderately irritating at times, but not a threat. But it was the intent, the playing to mitigate defeat that was interesting. I wasn't even trying for what I wanted because I already assumed i couldn't have it, so I drew myself a little circle of what was reasonable and tried to aim for that. Standing outside talking about the game I was floored as I realized this has been my entire approach to life. For all the talk I give about not limiting my universe to what I see, but leaving the possibilities open for everything there is, I was still playing to mitigate defeat. That single game of chess shook me to my core as I realized that I'm never going to get what I want if I don't try. I may not get it even then, but I'll get closer than if I stayed home. And I know from experience that often the thing I think I want is really the carrot to get me out the door to the other place I need to be that's along the way.

There's something else I want now. I see that I've been playing the game the way I know, the way I always have, because that's where I was then. I've been ill at ease, reaching for something because the old solutions weren't working anymore. I see now that my goal has shifted, that I've allowed myself first to admit that I even want the thing I've always convinced myself I couldn't have, and then I come to find that I've built my life around people with similar goals. There was one last place I was applying the rules of the old game, and I finally see that what I was trying to get there was what had worked in the past. The lessons I needed to learn, the experiences I needed to have, the growing I needed to do *then* have all brought me to *now,* and for the first time since I sat in that classroom, I'm content to wait. I know what I see in my future, and where there was anxiety filling the space between with idle action and relationships to distract me from the thing I couldn't figure out, now there is peace at holding a space, because I know what goes there now. I had a void, and was trying to fill it with things that worked before. Now I see not an emptiness, but a place of light and air and welcoming.

When the benefits are temporary, it doesn't matter if I play from the hip. I'm building a home now. In the stories, when men want to prove their love or honor, they hunt dragons and quest for impossible items and generally go *out* to prove themselves. They never talk about what the women do, it seems we just sit there looking pretty waiting to be won. But I don't want heroes, I want partners, and so I go on my quest inside, clear my hearth, warm myself and hold space for when those dear to me decide to come home.

Moments in the Woods

"Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer."

— Mark Z. Danielewski (House of Leaves)

It's easy for me to get lost in the moments. It's easy to feel like I'm living in the "now," and that's what the sages tell us to do, right? But it's not living in the now, it's trying to hold on to a single now, which very quickly becomes the past. And in holding on to it, I'm trying ot make it the future. I'm learning that in life, the past doesn't really care, and the future is having none of it. The Fates will spin the strings they damn well please and there's naught I can do about it.

I suppose there is still a part of me that's afraid that when I find something good, it might be the last bit for who knows how long and I want to hold on with both hands closed. When things are good, I let my guard get all droppy, and that's where the bad comes in. Or rather, where it did. When there were still people I allowed in my life who would look for openings and attack. Those people are gone and I'm slowly learning to trust that there is always more good, always more love, more happiness, more joy.

I know that there is a bigger picture. I'm learning to trust that my insights and dreams are not thwarted by temporary measures. That Now is just a moment, and good or bad that moment will pass and others will come. I get small glimpses of how it will be, I don't get a road map and a script. Trying to make things happen the way they make sense to me limits the possibilities of the Universe only to what I know, and that's a very small playing field indeed.

There are times when "bad" actions are a mercy. There are times when "good" actions can cause harm. As I say, comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. There is someone I would like to thank. This person's actions and intent have caused quite a bit of disruption in my life. I was very put out at the time. I wanted my moment to last as long as I wanted, I wanted to hold on to my little space of time. The Norns chuckled to themselves and kept on spinning.
In disrupting my moment, this person shook the siren song out of my ears, and I was able to swim back to shore. Once I found my feet, I realized they have done me a service. To get to my moment, there were bits I skipped over in haste and frenzy. I now have time to look at each moment with clear eyes. I now have time to see the beauty and the joy around me. I now have time to see that far from taking love away, she has given me space to grow the love planted all around me, to cherish each moment and the patience to let things grow at their own pace. I can no more force love than I can force my flowers to open early without injuring or destroying them. I'm sure this was not her intent, nor was it mine. But in doing what we need to do, things do seem to work out. As I cannot do so without causing harm, or at least without knowing I'm causing good, I thank her here.

If I try to hold on to the thread, it frays and kinks and tangles. If I let the Fates spin their magic, and let it flow over both hands, open, then all the beauty and joy and love in the world will flow freely to, through and by me. And there is always more.

To each, according to his need....

When I lived in Hawaii, one of the memories that sticks with the the most is the pier. About two miles down the road from my house at the end of Singer Blvd, the base, the island and the state, there was an officer's club that had seen better days. The club proper was still in use from time to time, and it wasn't uncommon to see the tennis courts in use, but the pool had been drained for years and some of the grounds were looking neglected. Behind the club was the bend of a beachfront running trail, a gravel patch and large concrete blocks designed ot keep the sea at bay when she was excited. I would walk through the parking lot, stepping over the bumps at the end of each parking space. I can remember the feel of my sneakers. I was usually in sneakers, because I had to claim to be exercising to get a moment's peace. I was encouraged to be thinner, but not too thin, and this was an approved moment of time to myself.

It was usually twilight when I arrived, and I'd sit on the blocks at the edge of the water letting the wind wrap his fingers through my hair, the smell of diesel fuel, jet fuel, salt and creosote heavy in my lungs. It was usually warm and cooling, but not too much of either. As the sun would set and the stars came out, I would angle myself so i could see out the narrow opening of the harbor into nothing. Staring out into the end of the world, listening to the waves gently slapping onto the shore with a rhythm my bones have known since the water formed out of stardust I would sink into the stone, the world would fall away around me and the infinity of space would absorb me. The ocean would sing her song to me, and teach me things about the universe, about myself, about what I was doing here.
I don't spend much time at the shore anymore. Even where there is water, there is land on the other side, land i can see. I've not seen the edge of the world in a long time. That kind of distance puts a perspective on things.

Yesterday I spent some time by the water. I walked along a rocky beach, let the ocean cover my hand, picked up pieces of glass and bottle caps so little feet wouldn't get cut when the weather warms a bit. farther up there was a grassy hill with a bench, and I sat there in the quiet and with words, watching the sun creep down to sneak behind the planet again. Once more I felt the neverending waves, the depth, the secrets, the songs of my mother. She reminded me of mr. Bucky Fuller, or pattern integrities, of the water that has waves, but once the wave is gone, the water is still there. Of ropes with knots, as real and solid as anything else, but slide the knot to the end of the rope, and it disappears. Where did it go? Was it ever there at all? Does it matter?
How can you tell where the rope ends and the knot begins?

If i can see patterns, if I know how they will end, if I know they can end, if I know that this will hurt, that i will be crushed and heart broken again and again, do I protect my heart? Do i put it away? Do I keep it from things that might put knots in my rope? If there's no knot, then I can't miss it when it's worked its way through. But then, all the usefulness of the pattern, the time when an anchor would have been useful will be lost or passed by. I think the best course is to know that pain is coming, to know that someday I'll lose everything I gain, and to keep trying anyway. I am here so that through my eyes the universe can express and experience love.
I am transient. I am fragile meatstuff whose time and troubles are fleeting. Everything I'm given is taken away, but it leaves a little part of itself with me. it makes me more.

I wish I'd had just a little more. I wish I'd had a proper goodbye. I wish I could have anchored one more time to a moment that smells like ocean and flows like waves. I wish I could have let go on my terms, honored the past with the present, had one. more. time.

But time isn't mine. it's just time. And so I will stay here in this space, thinking of the ocean until the tears stop running down my face. I seem to have a lot of them. I keep finding new depths. I know that when I finally reach the end of them.....I don't have a second part of that thought. I don't even know that I will reach the end of them. I assume I will, I'm pretty sure I will, but I honestly don't know what happens then. I don't know what to hope for, there are too many pieces not in place. I don't know what to look for, I don't know where I'm going, or even if I'll be invited. I don't know how to let go of my dreams without letting go of them all.
With both hands open, I've nothing to hold on to.

Requiem for a Dream

The problem with being the door, is that after people cross through, they're off, and I'm still here.

I try to convince myself that I'm projecting, that I'm letting my imagination get away with me, that I'm hormonal or emotional. And while these things might be true, they don't stop me from also being completely right. I might not get the "why" at that very moment, but I'm really good at the what, even from different zip codes.

A few months ago, I found something. It was in rough shape, but part of my talent has always been being handed a dead stick in a pot and breathing life into a thriving plant. I coaxed it, nurtured it, I saw our timeline together grow long and beautiful. And then something came up. I thought I was being irrationally jealous, that the narrative in my head was paranoia and that I should really just get over it because everything was fine.
People who want to be right all the time should try it.

And now it's gone. Not completely, not yet. I'll have it for a few more months, until another gardener moves in, and then I'll get to see my plant less and less, because whatever assurances, I'll always be the one who did a thing that they didn't, and they'll never feel quite at ease around me. I'll be able to visit my plant when other people are around, but really, that will be it for a while.

There's a fork in that timeline, one way, they sprout, and for seven years tend the garden until it doesn't work anymore. That has a fork, one the other gardener feels that the new sprout, and my new sprout will secure our positions enough to feel comfortable. I'm not sure what Future Me will do with that, because Present Me's heart feels ripped out in that spot. You see, in my original timeline, I was the one with that sprout. I'd even named the wee thing. The other fork simply wanders farther and farther away from my path until I can't even hear their sprout chattering anymore.
The other way, they don't sprout, and the garden becomes too difficult to work in about a year and a half. At that time, there's a small possibility I'll get my plant back. More likely, my plant will feel that its roots have been too long out of the garden, it'll see that I have a sprout of my own and set out to find another patch of earth. Future Me will have to see what happens when we get there.

Either way, what I had is gone now, and the only thing left to do is clear my presence from that patch of earth I'd come to call home and step aside like a lady.

A year ago today

I woke up early and wasn't allowed to have breakfast. My stomach had to be empty so that when they put me under, unpleasantness wouldn't follow.

I'm sorry we didn't quite connect there, little one. so very much has happened since then. so much that couldn't have if you'd stayed. you dropped in to say hello, and left again, courtesy of general anesthesia and a latex free OR so I wouldn't have to wait again to see when nature would take it's course. You have a friend now to keep you company. When your time is right, I hope you'll come back.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

When you learn there's a baby that looks like a baby in your BFF on Facebook, it's safe to assume that your relationship status has officially changed to "friend."

Also, To Jeremy, Jason, Sushi, Deacon, I miss you.
Melissa and Suzanne, you were just wee babes, I'm sorry I never got to meet you.
Kyle Aaron Huff, I don't have anything left but sorrow for your family. I know that no matter what I feel, their confusion and anger and grief at what you did will always be greater. I pray that they find peace, and that when the next time comes around, you can get what you need with compassion, grace and beauty. I wish that I had met you before you broke, before you decided that there was nothing but pain in the world. I don't know that it would have changed anything. I wish my friends were still alive.

Life at home....

Him: I need to shower. I'm covered in invisible hospital cooties

Me: well if they ever become visible cooties, we're fucked

Him: we'll just have to train special attack rats to kill the giant cooties.

Me: You're just trying to get back into breeding sentient raccoons again, aren't you?

Him: they don't have to be sentient.

Me: have you ever tried to train a rat dear?

Him: No, but if we want to train them to do anything but fuck and escape it might not work.

Me: *facepalm*

Quote of the Day

"I find that as I get older, my brain requires as much stimulation as the rest of my body.

So, yes, when I say talk nerdy to me? That's fucking foreplay. Do it right."

Back in the bread line

My contract ended yesterday. Was going to go until June, but later that day I found out that the thing needs to be tweaked so the other thing can work and use the things we've been doing (does this violate my NDC?)
So I'm trying to get in gear around the house. I felt less lonely in a quiet cube farm because I could talk to people online. My house is empty. I like having people in it. I like it when people come over and just do their thing and chat while I clean. It makes it more fun. I used to do things like drunken house-cleaning but then I eventually forgot to get around to the second part.
------

It's a bit more under control at the moment. back and forth with the chatting and the getting things done seems to work. I know my brain is happier when I have less clutter, my house seems ot reflect my inner state, and the other way 'round.
Tomorrow I'll be updating my resume and availability with the temp agencies, applying for any jobs on my usual haunts and praying that something comes along before I have to deal with the dicks at unemployment for too long. I'm not working at the school this quarter for a few reasons, among them that the job costs me more than it made me last quarter. I have to pay back ~$600 from winter break because I had a "promise of the same work next quarter" and thus, though I'm making paid claims during the quarter as I work, when I'm not getting paid by the school I don't need to get paid by unemployment either, right? They can't seem to figure out how the jobs with education work, esp in the ad hoc grader/PT tutor department, so I'll just leave it for now. I need to look for something full time with weekends anyway.

I had something profound I was going to say on the matter. alas, all my give-a-shit has been sublimated into domesticity and there's none left to make with the pretty words.
I want a garden this year, with proper beds.
I want a clean shed and house without loads of extra baggage reminding me of all the things I've never gotten to.
I want my home to reflect the mindset I want to have .
I want to stop being paralyzed by the things that should/could be and live what is.
I want the stories in my hands to make it onto a page.

With both hands open.

I first heard the phrase "with both hands open" in the movie version of "The Joy Luck Club." Something about the stories of women struggling to survive in other countries through radical culture changes and then coming to this country to make a new life, only to see their children who never knew the old life scoff until it's almost too late tugs at my soul. Maybe it has to do with how I grew up, and how little people understand of things unless they happen to be members of the "hellish nightmare of childhood" club. We're not having jackets made. A few knowing remarks and an unspoken sense of relief that someone knows, not imagines or sympathizes but *knows* the true depths that cheeky hyperbole and flippant remarks really indicate.
In the film, one of the mothers is watching her daughter desiccate in a loveless marriage that bears too close a resemblance from the very thing she fled China to escape. The mother urges her daughter to leave this cold gray house and her cold, gray man and not to give herself over until she finds a man who loves her with both hands open.

This phrase resonated with me, and does to this day. I started with this idea before I'd actually seen the movie when I came ot the realization that I should not lend out books that I could not afford, financially or sentimentally to make a gift. This prevented me from getting cranky at having given out something precious without laying out clear terms and just expecting that the other party would naturally see things the way I do.

A good scientist cannot afford to be attached to outcomes.

I do consider myself a scientist, and not just because I like science and finding stuff out. in my hallucination of the world, the universe is a conscious entity, and it is learning about itself with every experience we have. I don't believe we are heading toward any predetermined goal, no heaven or hell, but that we are simply seeing what we can learn and where that takes us.

Part of my experiment is figuring out where I fit in all of this. I know that I'm here to interact with other humans, and here to be acted upon. I know that my experiences have given me a ceratin outlook on things, that I have tools and tricks for getting through life that can be helpful in a number of situations. I have, for as long as I can remember, stood up for my friends against greater odds than I probably should have, spoken for those who were too timid to speak for themselves, and finally stopped when I realized I was doing it to keep from noticing myself. When Middle School Me is focusing on her friend's step-father rape, the beatings pale in comparative importance. And yet I know I did make things better for others. I know I did help, and often by taking over at least part of the problem and going into 'stage manager' mode. Years later, I would acutally become a stage manager, and be damn good at it.

Now I'm an adult, and one of the most important cards in my deck is the "no rescuing" card. That doesn't mean no helping, it means that I can't whirl in and take over, that my bossy-pants have to stay in the closet as I let people do their thing. I still haven't figured out where this crosses the line into 'witholding'. See, I also believe that we were each put here with a certain deck, a certain set of gifts and views and words that others are here to bounce off of and benefit from. I believe that if we try to be less than we are, if we let guilt or shame or doubt or fear make us smaller, then the people we encounter who are here for the "full delta experience" are not getting it. And that is a disservice to them. And I also believe that we are all exactly where we are supposed to be at the time we are supposed to be there, and that if things should have happened any other way they would have.

So am I supposed to help or not? Do I go with what I know and what feels right, or with what I think is the right thing to do? Do I let them flounder and wait to ask for my help? How can they ask if they don't know what I have to offer? It might surprise you to learn that I've grown rather accustomed to having one or both boots jammed firmly in my mouth, and just set a place for awkward moments at the table, because they're going to stop by anyway. Much like I came to terms long ago with the fact that I am Newton's bitch, I also surrender to the fact that I'm going to fuck up more times than I can count in life, and the best I can do is try to learn from it and do better next time.

And now we return to the title theme. The line I walk now is an attempt to give what I have to offer without trying to hold on to the outcome. I think this is the best I can do at the moment, and sometimes....often times it feels like it's not enough or I've done something I oughtn't. I have to trust that I'm not that big. That I have influence and sway, but that everyone I encounter has their own ship, their own guide and their own agency to make their life go the way they need to.

I have to give what I have to give with both hands open, for the greatest good of all involved, and trust that the thing that keeps me out of the dark places is strong enough to help us all.