Whew! This summer is busting my butt! Still, there's not a lot of fodder for complaint. I started a new job this week, though, and I'm working my way through the sludge of "I don't know what I'm doing"s and "I'm totally overwhelmed"s, which doesn't leave a lot of time for my typical navel gazing.
I am present, though...very present to most moments. This week has been an eternity, mostly in good ways. Most everything was (and still is) new this week. I started taking the bus to work every day, and I'm really enjoying it. I'm working downtown, and I'm still getting used to that aspect of my day. I'm in a new office with a brand new office culture, and I'm working to stay in the moment and honor my personal boundaries while working toward excellence. My routine with J has shifted, too - he also changed places of employment, and is working all sorts of different hours during the week.
Life is unpredictable right now, and it feels good. Even the bumps and skinned knees that come with learning a new course feel appropriate and necessary. I feel awake.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Friday, April 1, 2011
Back...Again
 |
| No Escape by Sylvie Pickering |
by Mary Oliver
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
I am never more tired of speaking than when I first get back from a trip home to see my family. Actually, it would be more accurate to switch it, to say "when I first get home from a trip back to my family" but that makes little sense to the average person that is not acquainted with my past, with my personal way-back machine.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Tidbits and Snippets
What a bizarre week it's been. I'm still in limbo in so many ways.
I moved out of my apartment on Tuesday, spending most of the day with T, who didn't phone it in (as expected) but actually worked his ass off moving my stuff all day. When I did a final look at my empty apartment at 10:30pm, I actually teared up- it was disconcerting to leave that tiny little haven behind, so empty and white and hollow. It was also weird to say goodbye to T. Change is hard, even when it's a change for the better. I'm not sure why I mourned that night, but I did, feeling pain over letting go of that which couldn't/wouldn't serve me. I've outgrown a lot of things in my life, and it's time to leave those cocoons...but readiness doesn't necessarily make for an easy transition.
Since Tuesday, I've been staying with my gracious friend K and her cat, Bruce. I've been going to the gym and reading and napping and just generally taking a break. It's been lovely, aside from the allergy-med-induced insomnia. I even went to a laundromat for the first time in years; who knew old biddies could get so possessive about their dryers?
Yesterday, I had a long lunch with S at Spice Island Tea House. The food was delicious, the conversation intimate. I walked away feeling more sure-footed and rooted, which is exactly what I like about talks with S. It is very rare that nurturing is reciprocal.
Today, I'm going to work at the library until 7pm, and then most likely go shopping for some things that will be immediately necessary at the new apartment tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow will include brunch and a smooth move into the new place. Keep your fingers crossed that I'll have a bed in my room on Sunday night!
I moved out of my apartment on Tuesday, spending most of the day with T, who didn't phone it in (as expected) but actually worked his ass off moving my stuff all day. When I did a final look at my empty apartment at 10:30pm, I actually teared up- it was disconcerting to leave that tiny little haven behind, so empty and white and hollow. It was also weird to say goodbye to T. Change is hard, even when it's a change for the better. I'm not sure why I mourned that night, but I did, feeling pain over letting go of that which couldn't/wouldn't serve me. I've outgrown a lot of things in my life, and it's time to leave those cocoons...but readiness doesn't necessarily make for an easy transition.
Since Tuesday, I've been staying with my gracious friend K and her cat, Bruce. I've been going to the gym and reading and napping and just generally taking a break. It's been lovely, aside from the allergy-med-induced insomnia. I even went to a laundromat for the first time in years; who knew old biddies could get so possessive about their dryers?
Yesterday, I had a long lunch with S at Spice Island Tea House. The food was delicious, the conversation intimate. I walked away feeling more sure-footed and rooted, which is exactly what I like about talks with S. It is very rare that nurturing is reciprocal.
Today, I'm going to work at the library until 7pm, and then most likely go shopping for some things that will be immediately necessary at the new apartment tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow will include brunch and a smooth move into the new place. Keep your fingers crossed that I'll have a bed in my room on Sunday night!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
And now, a bit of the over-personal rambling...
After dating for as long as I've been dating (15 years) I find it tempting to mentally create the perfect partner, to pine for a person who is the sum of all the qualities I can cherry-pick from previous partners. "Eventually, someone will show up that is as kind as _________ and as sexually adventurous as ____________ and as emotionally demonstrative as ___________ and as handsome as ____________ and as interested in spirituality as _______________" etc. etc. etc. and really? It doesn't work that way. Well, I truly hope it doesn't.
This post is sponsored by a very interesting conversation I had with S today over breakfast at Square Cafe*. She and I were having a long and deep conversation about romantic relationships, and she commented about how confident I am about what I deserve and who I want to be with romantically. My off-the-cuff response was that I learned to have high expectations of relationships after living with J...and I couldn't believe I said it, out loud, and that it was true...just as true as all the muck I had to wallow through to get out the other side of the long, dark tunnel of pain that was also our relationship.
Of course, there were many things that were non-optimal about the relationship...but there were good things, too. As with anyone, there were broken things and not-so-broken things and amazing, shiny things. To ignore any of it would be to not experience the full, bittersweet picture. In many ways, I will probably never have as good a partner as J...and in many ways, other partners will far surpass him. He is human, after all, just like me. I (like everyone else) am a piece of cake, a pie in the face, and all the stages in between.
I like my relationships this way. I like complex flavors, the depth created by some darkness, the moon peeking out from behind constantly moving clouds. To use a food metaphor: I find milk chocolate cloying; instead, I prefer the bitter of a good piece of dark chocolate. The taste encourages me stop and think; it gives me pause. I don't gobble it up right away because I want to taste all the nuances.
I think I would be bored to death if I found exactly what I was looking for in any area of my life. I also suspect that my sometimes-desire to find this Frankenstein Monster of Perfection is based in my fear that I won't be able to negotiate the choppy waters of Not Exactly What I Want. In truth, I'm pretty good at determining what differences I can tolerate, but I fear that I will end up somehow compromising on things that really matter, living in the dark tunnel instead of sometimes traveling through it, carrying out valuable lessons learned.
When I let go of that fear, I can see how exciting the unknown is, and how exciting each unknown person can be. What will I learn? What depth will be added to my character from our interactions? How will I be changed?
That last one is a biggie. Allowing myself to be changed...not just by another person, but by the living of life...that's sometimes hard. Who am I kidding, that's most-of-the-time hard. I have a sneaking suspicion that all of this fear is rooted in my denial of impermanence, specifically the impermanence of me, of this construction I call Self, of this shifting dance of I and me and mine. She changes everything She touches, and everything She touches changes...and that, to me, translates to groundlessness.
Scary? Exhilarating? Both?
Sweet Fancy Moses. Now there's the Work.
*Having said all of this, I think this post wasn't only prompted by my breakfast conversation but also by this post. It moved me to tears when I first read it, and has been on my mind for the past few days.
This post is sponsored by a very interesting conversation I had with S today over breakfast at Square Cafe*. She and I were having a long and deep conversation about romantic relationships, and she commented about how confident I am about what I deserve and who I want to be with romantically. My off-the-cuff response was that I learned to have high expectations of relationships after living with J...and I couldn't believe I said it, out loud, and that it was true...just as true as all the muck I had to wallow through to get out the other side of the long, dark tunnel of pain that was also our relationship.
Of course, there were many things that were non-optimal about the relationship...but there were good things, too. As with anyone, there were broken things and not-so-broken things and amazing, shiny things. To ignore any of it would be to not experience the full, bittersweet picture. In many ways, I will probably never have as good a partner as J...and in many ways, other partners will far surpass him. He is human, after all, just like me. I (like everyone else) am a piece of cake, a pie in the face, and all the stages in between.
I like my relationships this way. I like complex flavors, the depth created by some darkness, the moon peeking out from behind constantly moving clouds. To use a food metaphor: I find milk chocolate cloying; instead, I prefer the bitter of a good piece of dark chocolate. The taste encourages me stop and think; it gives me pause. I don't gobble it up right away because I want to taste all the nuances.
I think I would be bored to death if I found exactly what I was looking for in any area of my life. I also suspect that my sometimes-desire to find this Frankenstein Monster of Perfection is based in my fear that I won't be able to negotiate the choppy waters of Not Exactly What I Want. In truth, I'm pretty good at determining what differences I can tolerate, but I fear that I will end up somehow compromising on things that really matter, living in the dark tunnel instead of sometimes traveling through it, carrying out valuable lessons learned.
When I let go of that fear, I can see how exciting the unknown is, and how exciting each unknown person can be. What will I learn? What depth will be added to my character from our interactions? How will I be changed?
That last one is a biggie. Allowing myself to be changed...not just by another person, but by the living of life...that's sometimes hard. Who am I kidding, that's most-of-the-time hard. I have a sneaking suspicion that all of this fear is rooted in my denial of impermanence, specifically the impermanence of me, of this construction I call Self, of this shifting dance of I and me and mine. She changes everything She touches, and everything She touches changes...and that, to me, translates to groundlessness.
Scary? Exhilarating? Both?
Sweet Fancy Moses. Now there's the Work.
*Having said all of this, I think this post wasn't only prompted by my breakfast conversation but also by this post. It moved me to tears when I first read it, and has been on my mind for the past few days.
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