Rolling dice

We all know how fickle I can be ('we' meaning my theoretical regular reader and myself).  It could have gone any direction.  It could have been terrible from the first moment, or gotten slightly uncomfortable a few hours in, or any number of minor disasters I conjure up in my head.

But it wasn't.  It was perfect.  Easy.  Relaxed, exciting, fun, disarming, all at once.

The chemistry was undeniable, instantaneous, and prevalent.  Conversation was effortless.  We've already shared so much that now it's just there, in our combined repertoire, to build from.

However, I appreciate his maturity, and I am extremely flattered by his self-restraint.  We both agree that we are impulsive, we have short attention spans, and we are essentially players.  For us to make anything work together, we have to avoid those old pitfalls.  We have to take our time.

My biggest challenge is to simply slow down.  I want to get to point Z without traversing the whole experience.  For so long I have abhorred the idea of rehashing all my personal details with someone new.  With him, it's impossible to be afraid of telling him anything.  It all wants to rush out, so I have to really temper myself.

Our first day together was nine hours long.  We shared a lot of together time.  Buying personal items at the store.  Watching the sun set.  Deep secrets over beers.  Long embraces.

But that's as far as it went.  Even though I generally seek validation physically, he stopped it before we got more intimate.  It's so new to me that it shakes me to the core, but I have such profound respect for this man who wants to gradually become more intimate.

It was such a powerful thing for him to do that I didn't know how to tear myself away.  As I was driving home, I was so grateful and emotional and surprised that I couldn't hold it together, and I cried myself home.

Wow.  It could have gone in any direction, and it went THIS WAY.

I'm in awe.

Not pretending

All we ever have is the present, right?  Well, at present, I'm obsessed.  Maybe it's just fixation, but my mind is locked on one thing and has been hammering away at it for days.  I'll chock it up to being almost entirely isolated in someone else's house for two weeks, with few responsibilities and stressors, but this is undeniable.

Let me explain how it started:

I won't get into an entire back story, because I'm not writing a novel and this is my blog with a hundred previous entries that certainly touched on my failing romance with the previous "love of my life," but suffice it to say I've been coping with the official death of that relationship for the past 9 months.  Coping has involved a rebound relationship that satisfactorily distracted me but ultimately fell short of my expectations and minimum criteria.  It has also involved a fair amount of Me Time, where I've managed to rekindle (or probably just kindle) a love affair with myself...that kind of love that is forgiving and unconditional and understanding.  I've never loved myself like that before.

Well, since I had settled on being in a healthy relationship with myself for the first time, and I'm awfully monogamous, I was neither looking for nor interested in entertaining anything with anyone else.  Plus, as the end of the school year came to a fever pitch, there was no time or space in my brain for thoughts about a boy.  I wasn't looking, to be short.

Isn't this when everyone says, that's when love finds you, when you least expect it?

Okay, so let me clarify:  I'm not in love.  Love hasn't officially found me.

I tend to revisit (reactivate) my account on an online dating site that I've had for a couple years, since I came home from Korea.  I've met with a number of different guys, a few nice ones, lots of shitty ones, but nobody I was particularly interested in.  I most enjoyed the option to answer questions about myself, which in itself was this great opportunity to learn about myself and what I wanted (and where my boundaries are).  I let Toby take me for granted for so very long, where the only effort ever put into the friendship or relationship we had was MY effort, and all the essential things I want from a relationship I agreed not to demand from him because he couldn't "make any promises."  This time, damn it, I'm going to establish those imperatives ahead of time, and I won't back down from what I want.

I guess as the school year was winding down, I was craving attention and companionship again, so I reactivated my account in late May.  Something wonderful happened...I found *exactly* what I'm looking for.  I think.

To be brief and vague about it, I'll just say that this man is incredibly intelligent, handsome, athletic, hilariously witty, tall enough, educated, and hard working.  He just moved to Tucson after getting his post-grad degree. He and I have been corresponding for three weeks; long, in-depth emails and text message conversations that have been remarkably open, honest, and easy.  He knows what I went through with my dad because he went through something profoundly similar.  He loves dancing, singing, and martial arts.  He is incredibly talented in conversation!  He has gone OUT OF HIS WAY to show me and tell me that he's interested and attracted!  I'm sold.  Hook.  Line.  Sinker.

I haven't met him in person yet, so I'm fostering insecurities about my physique and how I'm not at my ideal svelte leanness this summer, and I've been scrutinizing all my own tiny flaws for days because I have little else to do.

Here's the thing though...I want nothing more than to present myself in the most honest way possible to him, no guards, no games, no pretending.  Here is this man who understands what I tell him without me having to beat the details out (and I refer specifically to my childhood rife with abusive adults), and not only does he not judge me, he can reword it back to me in such an understanding way that it relaxes my muscles in my back and shoulders.  I don't have to be afraid of what he knows about me.

I'm not in love, but I want nothing more right now than to connect my soul to his soul.  I'm totally fixated on this feeling.  It's probably me being overly visceral and I know I run the risk of pouring my heart out too quickly and running him off.  I can't forget that he JUST moved here and started his life in Tucson TODAY, so I am forcing myself to back the hell off and give him some space.

I just want him so badly.  I want this so badly.  I can't wait until we meet :)

not exactly sure

Tonight, for some inexplicable reason, I feel incredibly lonely.

The Moon is a remarkable one; 30% bigger and 15% brighter, and some 22,000 miles closer to Earth.  It's being referred to as a "super moon," but this phenomenon is simply the perigee of the Moon's orbit.  No photograph of it does any justice.  I've had to simply look up and ponder.

I love solitude and privacy, but retreating to my distant castle before midnight makes me feel like I'm beating the clock lest I turn into a pumpkin.

http://youtu.be/STK9a0eB390

What is next for me?

FINISH HER!

Even in this fresh new relationship with myself, I am recognizing red flags.  Namely, that I can be very verbally abusive with myself.

Take, for example, this evening when I sat and watched two videos of performances I participated in with my troupe, approximately 6 months apart.  My attention was, of course, focused on the gamut of insecurities I have  regarding my weight, my timing, performance character, and grasp of the techniques and language.  The earlier of the two won me some praise for looking svelte and having nice fluidity, but I pointed out the flaws in my cues and timing.  The second of the two, a performance this past January, drew scorn and disappointment.  I'd gained weight, I slaughtered at least 4 moves, my timing was off, and I recall feeling so proud of myself at the time.  Foolish, I told myself.

See what I can do?  I can let this take me down so far, just viewing two videos of myself doing something fun and creative, and I can convince myself that I am worthless and undesirable, that I have nothing going for myself.  It's that proverbial round of Self vs. Evil Self, equally matched in power and agility, and I honestly thought I was winning.  How does one overpower one's dark side?

It's been years since I've had professional therapy, and even though I'm provided several sessions for free through our insurance provider, I simply can't seem to make time for it.  Come three weeks from tomorrow, I'm out of a job, and should be collecting unemployment if the stars are aligned in my favor.

Because I come to this blog when I'm trying to sort things out, I'll throw in some good news for posterity.  Yesterday I observed one of the chemistry teacher's classes to satisfy a requirement by the district office, and the lesson just happened to be on colligative properties (the elevation of boiling point, depression of freezing point, lowering of vaporization, and osmotic properties upon the addition of any solute to a pure solvent).  Now, considering it has been years since I took a chemistry course, I still happen to have minored in it, and felt as though I grasped those concepts very well, even if I can barely explain them or recall the terminology today. It has also been (not as many) years since my internship roaming the Southwest for hummingbird habitats, and I recall one of our many scientific debates was on that very topic:  if salt is added to pure water (i.e. when cooking pasta), it changes the boiling point.  My vote was that the boiling temperature is increased, and he insisted that it was decreased.  Well, with great satisfaction, I am happy to say that I was right, and it was confirmed yesterday.  I needed that.  It validated me, if only a little, as a scientist.

Additionally, I suggested to a student of mine that if he needed a tutor during the summer, I would offer my services.  That was only yesterday, and today he asked if I could tutor him during July for a tidy sum.  This is perfect because I'll be broke and house sitting in Tucson this July, and that will keep me a bit more above water.  Thank God.

I'm so anxious about the end of the year.  There's nothing I can do but persevere and try to accomplish everything, but I'm always shooting for perfection and that's just so unrealistic.  Why does it seem like everyone else has it figured out, and I can barely make ends meet or keep a job for more than a year?!  Didn't I bust ass in college?  I still have a small hill of debt to contend with, secretly, and the thought of entering the world of school costs all over again makes my stomach lurch.  Just to be a damn teacher.  That whole question of whether the time, money, effort, and constant opposition is all worth it?  Dubious.

Let's not forget, while I'm busy playing my little violin, that I have been living in a virtual palace, fully-stocked, since late March.  I'm here through the end of the school year, with no utilities or rent to pay, in a beautiful part of town with a plethora of desert flora and fauna, especially birds.  The quail are regulars in the back lawn, but I see everything from verdins to cardinals to flycatchers.  Then we have little furry rodents, notably cottontails.  The burrowing ground squirrels and mice have turned up, but usually after they have befallen some terrible fate, such as a car or the cat.  It's always tragic, and I try to gently move their remains somewhere they'd be comfortable.  Not that I'm missing the point or anything.  I also hear owls at night, and from this vantage point at the darker edge of the city, I have been fortunate enough to spot Venus on a regular basis, Jupiter for at least a month, and even Mars for a week or so.  Once or twice, I saw all three!  That is an incredible experience, valuable and profound.

Saturday is the junior and senior prom(enade), to which I have been invited and to which I am certainly going!  I have a dress and shoes already decided on!  I love a good reason to dress up.

Let's throw some more good news in here:  I have officially joined the school of people obsessed with their smartphone applications.  I only use a few, but I use them most frequently.  The best, by far, is the little calorie diary that counts up my water, cardio exercise, and food intake.  It sorts it into protein, fat, and carbs, and compares that to the proportions I should strive to meet.  I can record my weight and view graphs of my progress (weight loss and staying within budgeted calories) weekly or monthly.  I'm pleased to say I've lost 5 lbs!  I had been feeling extremely disconnected with my food intake and out of control of my weight.  It's wonderful to be so present in my daily diet and to push for some little goal like I would a video game.  And the best part is, it translates to my real life and livelihood.  Sure, I spend much more time looking at my phone, but I'm building muscle memory with portion control and ingredient choices that I never considered before.  I need these habits in place and I'm sure grateful my phone is helping me lose weight!

Okay, I think I've cheered myself up well enough.

Take that, Evil Self!

Until next time...

Less steering wheel gripping...

I don't always have deeply profound self reflections, and some of my growth is more emotional and visceral than cognizant.  Lately, I have had to shed a layer of responsibilities to commitments I piled upon myself over the past two years, and practiced being able to breathe deeply while commuting.  These don't sound like much, but it has enabled me to experience a small degree of peace for the first time in many months.

Currently, I'm indulging in a positive relationship with myself.  I haven't been my kindest critic, and consequently I stagger beneath the crippling weight of my own guilt complex.  Everyone I inform this of insists that it's unhealthy and I have to learn to forgive myself.  Friends have also reminded me that if I am unable to forgive myself, it's unlikely that I will be able to forgive others.  Admittedly, I have issues with getting past offenses and infractions by friends and former lovers.  I appreciate having identified areas where I need growth.  I like growing and healing.

It takes a lot of effort to ignore the "big" picture and focus on the daily minutiae.  By force of habit, I generally look at my heap of problems with a wide-angle lens and proceed to panic.  I start adding up the details like starting the teaching certification program, writing final exams, completing my re-application, investigating the prospect of unemployment benefits, locating a local dance studio, and impending moves and near-poverty this summer, and I find myself taking shallow, infrequent breaths.

But, with effort, I'm choosing to focus on the small accomplishments I manage each day, and I can count them as triumphs and build from there.  My to-do list is finally a little shorter, and I had so much control over that the whole time.  It means I can actually spend more time training at the gym and, ultimately, exercise has been my best therapy.  So things are looking up.

Every time we do it...

I remember something about what I used to love. It comes back to me like the wisps of a forgotten dream, and I chase it and grasp at it and it disappears just as quickly. But I still saw it, and I can conjure it up again.

There is love for dancing, feeling the music and manifesting pure loving energy in every cell. There is love for creatures and the spark of life (not that I forgot this one; I just begrudgingly dislike many of my fellow species too often to remember that I love them more). There is the profundity of the infinite cosmos, and being able to see the universe at night every night, and driving home gazing at Venus and Jupiter and Mars along the same horizon. There is the promise that I am doing something with my life that is helping, or at the very least, inspiring young people.

Of course, there is also the battle of insignificance. Am I doing what I should? Is there another direction that I have brazenly disregarded because I've followed the sweeping path of the current into this remarkably complex living arrangement, yet again

And I want to love where I am and who I am, but I have made it so damned hard for myself. Who loves carrying around a pile of complicated nonsense for a year at a time, only to dump it (along with every necessity therein) and start over completely, struggling to replace it and gradually building up another jumbled, preposterous mass? Who could love that?!

Astonishingly, I gravitate to this lifestyle. Do I love it after all?

I need a shower and sleep.

Cactus wren song

It's beautiful, when a cactus wren sings, though the first time it meets one's ears, it sounds coarse and agitated. But it is a song of joy, celebrating life, pronouncing the wren's presence and expressing hope for a courtship. Or simply because it is day time.

Though I fancy myself one who does not take those simple phenomena for granted, a fair number of easy life lessons slip my attention until I have to painfully double back and reevaluate the evidence.

This is life in the aftermath, following what feels emotionally similar to a divorce, where I assess all the things that identify my philosophy, my goals, and my adulthood. It's funny how afraid I was to transcend over to the single side of this ordeal; everything I did was flagged with how I might convey or share it with someone who was busying himself with anything that did not involve me, and I was desperate not to know a life without him in it. I felt as though that bald exposure to the world, without this sense of protection, would leave me completely vulnerable and incapable of existing.

I feel less resentment, as I should, because forgiveness is clearly the only task left to complete. Still, nothing compels me to engage in any contact or even to see his face. That he could move on with his life, that he already had moved on before I had the courage to, and that he could still be operating his life in the same irresponsible, emotionally damaged fashion is simply more than I can tolerate. I want no part of his life if I am not part of his life. And furthermore, I am better off without him; had I only understood this sooner!

Then came a stretch when I needed validation. I was broken, long neglected and undesired. I was quickly replaced. So I put myself in plain view and got what I was looking for: attention. It wasn't always from the ideal source, nor did it satisfy any other social requirements, but I had such deep wounds that the only balm was a warm embrace and some calculated blandishments.

Six months later, just a matter of weeks after I limped away from the battle ground, I am finally learning who I am again. I have my priorities more in line, I have a quiet sanctuary where I may retreat each night, and I am present in my adult matters. No hiding, no shrugging and hoping for the least possible consequence, and certainly no accepting mediocrity. I am a strong woman and I bled and cried and fought my way to this place and I will not accept passive ignorance or self-centeredness. I surround myself with strong, fearless, capable people who support me and do not cut me down out of insecurity or weak personal communication skills. I seek spiritual growth and I connect to the living things by which I am surrounded and to whom I am indebted. I talk to God. I acknowledge the profundity of the spiraling galaxy we orbit around that is visible nearly EVERY NIGHT in the desert (light pollution permitting). I take seriously the task of enlightening my science students with a reverence and an understanding of the vast network of interconnected shifts and lives and chemicals and physics. Life is truly beautiful, and I believe this with my whole being and I strive to keep it in the front of my mind so that it surely influences my behavior and my choices and my thoughts and my gratitude.

And I thank creatures like the artless cactus wren, whose unpretentious song fills the springtime air and reminds me to live by my truths and mind those valuable lessons.

Amen.