Divorce

Sliver of Innocence, you glowing thing, you.

So, yesterday I had therapy.  Well, technically, I missed therapy.  My appointment reminder happened five minutes before i was meant to walk in, and its 20 minutes from here.  My frantic call, my hatred of self for having to pay for something I didn’t even benefit from… blagh.

BUT, as the universe unfolds and unfolds and unfolds again, it worked perfectly. she had a space later in the day and another patient mistook her appt and showed up just in time to take my missed space.

get the convolution that unfolded for all of us there?

Believe it or not the point of this post has nothing to do with any of that. Actually, i think that is fairly par for the course for my meandering style.

One of the things that has been bugging me lately is my own idealism.  Its causing me grief as I try to date or not date. I try so hard to accept people as they are, and I think 98% of me does this…  but there are slivers and shards of me that are looking for the big love, the knight in shining armor, the completely unreal.

And I’m trying to deal with these slivers in therapy. and its messing with me on the daily.  Those slivers still can’t believe that the big love I had wasn’t enough. That the big love I had didn’t meet its match in reciprocity. Those slivers kept me in a marriage about three years too long. They are little fiberglass splinters… can’t see em but they hurt and hurt and hurt.

I KNOW that this is my naivete. My little glowing shard that Superman opens up the vault with… I KNOW THIS.  But I am so mad at that little glowing thing.  I am not sure how to wrap my hands around it without choking it to death.  I’m afraid of what such violence would do to me.  What if its my golden center?

AAAAARGGGH. I don’t have the answers. but it has been suggested to me that i invite the glowing shard in, ask her to sit down at the campfire with my cynicism and my creativity and my color obsessions and make some new stories.  some grown up ones, where golden can stay, and change, and glow.

so i have work to do. a whole shebangs of shebangs the drum.

 

 

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Humanity

Beauty, Circles and Fear. How’s that for heavy?

I don’t know what it is, really, but i’m obsessed with the light here. and everywhere, i suppose.  my world is pretty circumscribed. it is pretty. and circumscribed.  its a golden globe of my own devising.

circles, circles. we all walk about in our bubbles… bumping bubbles if we’re social.  bumper cars of humanity.

the fall is so beautiful it hurts my eyes sometimes.  i strain to see the color striking the leaves just so… the frost on the blades of green… everything is so golden, its changeability grabs me by the lapels and forces me to think of the past, the loss…

(lapels… snicker…)

and everytime, EVERY TIME, i remember that fall comes back. its not the last fall… this light is always here, its just waiting for its particular turn. (around the sun… i couldn’t resist it, sorry…)

I’ve got a thing for circles, complete or otherwise,

cycles…

 

Is it a symptom of age? That my circles are oblong sometimes, or bumpy? That I’m no longer driven by fear? that i see the tumble of the cycles, the certainty that things will return?  I have to believe it is… the resistance to fear being an almost practical mindset now, born from my learning curves… a surrendering more than a wall-building… let it roll on past, as it will.

and, it occurs to me, that if Beauty circles, and all the things circle back… it might be called Revolution. It just might be. and I wonder if seeing it is all that it takes…

tell me, you wise ones… how are you seeing the light where you are?  is it Capital “L” Light for you? talk to me about your cycles…

Humanity

Grounding yourself. On purpose, like an adult.

if i’m going to try to write a bonified essay on tips to center down… then i need to actually start gathering the wool for the sweater.

wool! ways to gather your spirit and warmth back into your body.

1. put down the phone. duh. you already KNOW this one…
like literally, away from you. silence it. give yourself a block of time. 30 minutes at least.

2. stare out the window, go outside and sit on the porch. squinch your toes in the grass like richard gere… (if you are my age you know exactly what i’m talking about.) do absolutely nothing with a little chunk of time. think your thinks. allow yourself to not take action on any of it.

3. sitting up, take some deep breaths. don’t count them… 🙂 just take them

(i keep staring at the young bearded guy across the coffee shop. i forget that i might be too old for guys in their 30s now… how amazing is that..)

4. grab something to be momentarily inspired by. flip the pages of a book and look for a quote on the page you open to, that somehow relates to your day. a tarot card, a favorite word… think about it, puzzle it out in your monkey brain…

(girls with backpacks bigger than they are… oh, man..)

5. circles. I think of this as a Quaker thing, but believe its more general than that. allow the visions of circles in your mind, slowly enlarging and enlarging til infinity and dissipation, and then back, should you so choose.
so many color possibilities but i’m amazed and curious to say mine are almost always grayscale and pastels… and it just brings you into focus, allows the space for clarity.

6. pray. doing all the things. open up, quiet down and ask for help, guidance and the quietude to hear an answer…

(oh god, not in his 30s, probably 20s… could’ve birthed him! aaaaaagh.) …

and
give yourself permission to do this, any of it, all of it. Its as important as laundry, if not way way more important than laundry. okay? did you hear that?

you are more important than laundry…
and being connected to yourself as a natural part of the world, belonging as much as a tree or a sunset. really. thats how much .

i think its a thing that most people just do not believe about themselves. truly.

Humanity, Uncategorized

better now

i am, i really am.

but i’m having a bit of a rough go of it this morning, getting back into the swing of keeping busy while in betweenst works.

but the slowness is good, right?  gives me time to think, make a plan and think of its steps…

sometimes dropping the ball lets you see the whole field. 1010181645c

deep breaths along with the thump of the heart beat.

i might be deciding to date again. i haven’t fully made up my mind. i’ve been given a greenlight by my steady lover, because we both know he is too busy (me too) and too far (me too) and we love each other but.

its okay, and there? practicality rules. without sorrow, especially.

and. because i love him, i still have him. any way we can.

but in this deep breath, moment of quiet,                   i know how much time i spend dithering with online dating… fiddling with responses and swipes and that doesn’t even get me to the actual meets.  its a form of long-winded shopping… many many windows…

so it gives me more pause than i was expecting.

i think i might have other things to do.  maybe my man can just come find me.

someone tell the Universe.

Humanity

Too many chairs here.

I’ve been sick. like, can’t do anything else but be sick, sick.  another time in which i feel such immense gratitude that i am home, and that my livelihood is not dependent on showing up in an office or classroom with pep.  so much gratitude.

i managed a small amount of work.  less than half normal. but whatever. i’m still astonished i could even do that.

i woke my kids up, got my kids to school every day, and games and practices were cancelled because of incessant rain. i made a roast chicken. i did the things.

as soon as the last was out the door in the morning, i went back to bed.

its a kidney infection, and its on its way out. just this morning i took five different pills to tackle the thing. one antibiotic, three urinarytract cleansers of the naturalfood store sort, and the anti-depressant that i always take.

but i’ve been forgetting the anti-depressant during the sickness, because of the brain fog.

on the weekends, the kids are with their dad all but one weekend of each month. so i was alone this weekend, and literally in bed the entire time. i’ve been wearing the same clothes to bed and to wake for three days. i’m colorful, very colorful.

i made a video this morning showing off my threads, and managed to brush my hair afterwards because oh my god.  so i’m now a rockstar.

the title here? too many chairs?

being sick and layabout has knocked my filters down, and i’m looking around at this house and its pandemonium… without any ability to see the forest for the trees…. all i see is trees… and maybe they’re not all that healthy.  from where i sit now, i can see nine different chairs.  NINE. granted, this room is purportedly the dining room, so maybe you could see your way to thinking that NINE was an okay number.

but my kids and i eat around the table in front of the fire, in the kitchen, where we actually sit on the floor.  no chairs.

so my sickness has opened the doors to the realization that chairs must really mean something to me.  what, you say?  no idea. because i am sick.

but right now?  if you offered me a chair, i’d take it.  its compulsive, i think.

toomanychairs

hospitality? welcoming? respite? do i have to google the meaning of chairs? what the hell?

whoosh. and i have a man story to tell, which i will get to next time, because i need some of my own advice on it. involving a liar, wonderful sex, and longing…

I’m almost ready for Monday.  the kids will be back in a few hours and i might just pop back into bed … but i’m ALMOST at the point where i think the bed is not the best thing for me, and movement might be better… so maybe i’ll get back on the laundry chain, or make that leftover chicken into a soup or something… the tide is turning.. slowly, slowly now…

love you…