If I had a whole day to write this, I might be able to accurately describe how ready I am to put this year behind me. If I had the house to myself, I might be able to find the words to tell you what I've learned truly enough that you'd never have to learn it for yourself. If there were holy silence in my space instead of the typical cacophony of life, I'm sure we'd both come away from this blog entry feeling enlightened and healed.
I can't explain. No time. I can only summarize.
I've learned more about trust and betrayal this year than I knew could be learned. Thankfully, I've learned more about trust than I have about betrayal. I am grateful for those who have entrusted their careers, their hearts, their secrets, their bodies, and their souls to me. Their esteem gives me hope.
I've learned that love changes nothing. So don't take it too seriously - Love is Love is Love.
The vast majority of people I love live their lives in fear. I've learned that I can't help them. I'm sorry. Please join me in the light when you decide to see it.
I've learned that the rhyme my softball coach used to chant (If you can SEE it, you can BE it) is true.
The Beatles were right: Money can't buy me love.
It was fun trying, though!!
I've learned that professional recognition isn't all it's cracked up to be. Some days I'd kill to be invisible.
I found out the hard way that I have a girly streak a mile wide: I really want someone to think I'm beautiful. Or at least tell me I am. Telling myself I'm perfect just isn't cutting it any more.
I've also learned that I'm not half as independent as I'd like to think. I've longed for someone else to make the decisions; I've wished that someone would take care of me. Humbling, to be sure.
I know what it's like to be a rock star. I've learned that giving every ounce of my energy for others pays back a thousandfold and more. I'm addicted to it.
I know that I have to give to get.
I've learned - again! - that quitting smoking sucks big hairy donkey dick. I believe I'll be a non-smoker for good this time.
Like it or not, things are going to change. I've learned that I can choose to be healed by change or scarred by it. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess what my past MO has been. But I'll choose differently tomorrow... and the next day... and the day after that.
Goodbye, 2006. Welcome, 2007. Let's allow it to be easy, shall we?
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Change (it doesn't matter who you are)
So, things are about to change. Again. I probably won't be posting for a while.
You may have already realized that I don't possess many coping mechanisms for change. Much of my psychological safety depends upon certain key elements of my life remaining static... the goings-on in my head are chaotic enough and I have to be able to depend on something other than death and taxes.
As a whole, the events that are unfolding are too huge for me to contemplate. Seperately, they seem almost trivial. Though venting my pain and frustration won't change the way these events unfold, perhaps I'll feel better addressing (as little letters! Cute, yes???) them one by one.
1. You come and go as you please and have the audacity to be surprised when people stop caring where you are. Further, you announce that you've "made a decision" and expect time to stop to accomodate you. If you had an ounce of sensitivity in your psyche or an iota of decency in your soul, you'd realize that in this life, you reap what you sow. I hope you are pleased with this year's harvest. You cultivated it so carefully.
2. For seven years, I've felt safe knowing that someone had my six, even on different schedules, in different buildings, and in different job descriptions. We share a mutual respect for enlightened living and all things miraculous, and have made silk purses out of sow's ears over rare and nutty stouts more times than I can count. You've steered me through challenges great and small, but didn't realize that you wouldn't be there to teach me how to handle this, the greatest challenge since I walked into that shabby office so many years ago. Though I celebrate your courage and achievement, I am already lost and frightened and oh so alone.
3. I cried for you last night, for almost an hour. Real, wracking sobs that left me with completely blocked sinuses, an utter emptiness that defies explanation, and the same unanswered questions that I started with over a year ago. Would it kill you to give me just one fucking clue into your thought process about this situation? Do you really believe that throwing me a frickin' bone would compromise your intricately woven security blanket? If you can't trust me by now - Heaven knows I've kept a lot of secrets and played a really cool game - then why continue in the same vein? For God's sake, if you have to leave - because make no mistake, that's exactly what you're doing and this time there's no going back - leave me with something to feel good about. A reason. An excuse. A sentiment. A summary. An explanation. A compulsion. Anything! Anything but this horrific ambivalence that permeates every arena but one.
Love me... or don't. But choose.
4. I can't work this way. You're just going to have to trust me, because you can't have it both ways - if you want to control every little thing, then you'll have to make it a point to be here to do it. Your only other option is to trust me. If you can't step out of feeling threatened and defensive long enough to see clearly, then just step back and let me do my thing, because I'm going to do it with or without your explicit support. You don't like the way I handle things? Then show up every once in awhile and handle them yourself. You don't want me to take over? The show up every once in awhile and take charge. You don't want me to subjugate your will to my own? Then show up every once in awhile - and you better be on your game. As of this moment, I am off the fence and on the field.
Apres le deluge...
You may have already realized that I don't possess many coping mechanisms for change. Much of my psychological safety depends upon certain key elements of my life remaining static... the goings-on in my head are chaotic enough and I have to be able to depend on something other than death and taxes.
As a whole, the events that are unfolding are too huge for me to contemplate. Seperately, they seem almost trivial. Though venting my pain and frustration won't change the way these events unfold, perhaps I'll feel better addressing (as little letters! Cute, yes???) them one by one.
1. You come and go as you please and have the audacity to be surprised when people stop caring where you are. Further, you announce that you've "made a decision" and expect time to stop to accomodate you. If you had an ounce of sensitivity in your psyche or an iota of decency in your soul, you'd realize that in this life, you reap what you sow. I hope you are pleased with this year's harvest. You cultivated it so carefully.
2. For seven years, I've felt safe knowing that someone had my six, even on different schedules, in different buildings, and in different job descriptions. We share a mutual respect for enlightened living and all things miraculous, and have made silk purses out of sow's ears over rare and nutty stouts more times than I can count. You've steered me through challenges great and small, but didn't realize that you wouldn't be there to teach me how to handle this, the greatest challenge since I walked into that shabby office so many years ago. Though I celebrate your courage and achievement, I am already lost and frightened and oh so alone.
3. I cried for you last night, for almost an hour. Real, wracking sobs that left me with completely blocked sinuses, an utter emptiness that defies explanation, and the same unanswered questions that I started with over a year ago. Would it kill you to give me just one fucking clue into your thought process about this situation? Do you really believe that throwing me a frickin' bone would compromise your intricately woven security blanket? If you can't trust me by now - Heaven knows I've kept a lot of secrets and played a really cool game - then why continue in the same vein? For God's sake, if you have to leave - because make no mistake, that's exactly what you're doing and this time there's no going back - leave me with something to feel good about. A reason. An excuse. A sentiment. A summary. An explanation. A compulsion. Anything! Anything but this horrific ambivalence that permeates every arena but one.
Love me... or don't. But choose.
4. I can't work this way. You're just going to have to trust me, because you can't have it both ways - if you want to control every little thing, then you'll have to make it a point to be here to do it. Your only other option is to trust me. If you can't step out of feeling threatened and defensive long enough to see clearly, then just step back and let me do my thing, because I'm going to do it with or without your explicit support. You don't like the way I handle things? Then show up every once in awhile and handle them yourself. You don't want me to take over? The show up every once in awhile and take charge. You don't want me to subjugate your will to my own? Then show up every once in awhile - and you better be on your game. As of this moment, I am off the fence and on the field.
Apres le deluge...
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Silly Girl
I think I've got it licked,
and then the phone rings:
for one incredible second
the possibilities are endless.
Of course it's not you -
Heavens, why would it be?
and then the phone rings:
for one incredible second
the possibilities are endless.
Of course it's not you -
Heavens, why would it be?
Friday, December 08, 2006
Hypersensitivity
There are a thousand ways my heart can break. At least.
So far, being a non-smoker has been a good thing. I'm glad to be a new non-smoker.
Aye, but here's the rub: like any addict, I used my addiction to suppress things that I didn't want to deal with in full. Addictions are handy like that.
Now... there are a thousand ways my heart can break.
The worst is over?
So far, being a non-smoker has been a good thing. I'm glad to be a new non-smoker.
Aye, but here's the rub: like any addict, I used my addiction to suppress things that I didn't want to deal with in full. Addictions are handy like that.
Now... there are a thousand ways my heart can break.
The worst is over?
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