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*CAUTION: Explicit Horn-Tooting in this Post*
As part of my healing campaign, the one where I gradually learn to love myself for my journey and who it has made me, I am reflecting on my strengths.
I am a survivor.
For example, I survived seven years of sexual abuse at the hands of my step father, who never faced any recourse other than my deep loathing and lack of trust for decades to follow. My brother is also graciously in my corner and fiercely angry on my behalf...but I have overcome the sense of worthlessness that comes from being objectified as a child and adolescent. My sexuality is no longer a pathological cry for help. Sex is a beautiful and passionate expression of love, intimacy, and trust, rather than a means of validating my warped self-image. SURVIVOR.
I have also traveled around the country alone a number of times. With next to no possessions, money, or amenities. I washed my hair in rest area sinks. I slept where I fell, and learned to get by on a few bites of food each day. I met new people easily and did not allow myself to be taken advantage of. I found my peace and meditated deeply.
I took this to the next level when I began traveling abroad. I've gone to several countries by myself, always on the cheap, and with a bare-bones agenda of simply getting there and then getting back out again: a simple recipe for an amazing adventure that unfolds however it pleases. I am quite capable of traveling and being alone, in any circumstance I may find myself. I am not afraid. SURVIVOR.
I know what the inside of my car engine looks like. My stepdad is a wealth of knowledge and technical ability when it comes to problem-solving and repairs on all manner of machinery, especially cars. I've participated in many repairs (even though I am always purely a novice), and have helped whenever I am allowed to. He honors my curiosity by engaging me in the process and no longer condescends my abilities or comprehension. I have a small but complete set of tools that he gave me for Christmas one year, and a repair manual for my Jeep. I am obviously not able to repair my own car if I broke down in the desert somewhere, but simple issues do not frighten or elude me. I will not be swindled by any mechanic. I will never be "stranded" anywhere. SURVIVOR.
My own hard path and heavy drug use to escape depression did not kill me, even though suicide was a sincere thought in my mind for a long time. I made one attempt at my own life, at one of my darkest moments, and at another I had a near-death experience that I lamented as a lost opportunity to simply end it all. This prompted me to pursue professional psychological support, which dramatically turned my life around. The many incongruities between my heart and soul, the pain and blockage, have been slowly worked out, smoothed down, soothed away. It has brought me to this very point, at this very moment writing this diary entry. I'm sharing my love for life and propping up others who are hurting. I'm not just surviving, I'm helping save lives. SURVIVOR.
I am but a drop of the universe. My energy is all of the energy, in some different form. I'm not separate, not distinct, not alone. My equipment and wiring has its limits and is not always trained on acknowledging the connectedness and uniformity of universal love energy, but music connects all of that for me--it helps me to expand when I have become constricted. It reminds me that I am timeless and that everything around me is timeless. No conflict is so great that the universe will cease, especially not a car issue or relationship drama. How very liberating to remember that the universe does not make mistakes, that it is right on schedule, and we are precisely where we should be. That's how I survive.
2.25.2014
2.24.2014
feeling lucky
I'm really quite blessed. My family and I are on the best terms we've ever been. My health has been generally quite good. I'm eating well and money hasn't been as painfully tight, though it may be too soon to tell.
I've got this wonderful man who treats me perfectly. Not just me, but everyone! I see his high standards for himself, and he lives by them deliberately.
I'm compelled to not take him seriously when he makes the occasional disclaimer about always seeing himself as a loner free from a relationship, but I don't want to disregard that he has said these things and tends to speak from the heart. For the moment, however, I'm smitten and content to keep wrapping myself around him and laughing with him and his friends. As long as we treat each other right, maybe there could be a future in this. I like being part of this group of people; they're witty and relaxed and have a variety of interests and talents. This wonderful man doesn't keep himself so guarded from me as he once did, and we see each other fairly regularly. I don't actually have the time to see him that frequently, and I shouldn't cave to temptation to ask to see him so much, but I literally crave his company! I'd venture a guess that he's pretty fond of me, too. :)
I've got this wonderful man who treats me perfectly. Not just me, but everyone! I see his high standards for himself, and he lives by them deliberately.
I'm compelled to not take him seriously when he makes the occasional disclaimer about always seeing himself as a loner free from a relationship, but I don't want to disregard that he has said these things and tends to speak from the heart. For the moment, however, I'm smitten and content to keep wrapping myself around him and laughing with him and his friends. As long as we treat each other right, maybe there could be a future in this. I like being part of this group of people; they're witty and relaxed and have a variety of interests and talents. This wonderful man doesn't keep himself so guarded from me as he once did, and we see each other fairly regularly. I don't actually have the time to see him that frequently, and I shouldn't cave to temptation to ask to see him so much, but I literally crave his company! I'd venture a guess that he's pretty fond of me, too. :)
2.14.2014
more than crumbs
There was a stretch of my history, not so distant, when I did not understand how to love.
I certainly thought I did, and I attempted to use words like, "I love you," and such things to that effect, but I was stuck--blocked somewhere within in some way that prevented me from truly loving.
What I was doing instead was taking. I had to rely on the affection and gestures of others to "prove" to myself that I was worthy. That input from my friends, my boyfriend, my family, had to outweigh the deep shame and contempt I held for myself.
In these relationships with others, I was not coming from a place of honesty or authenticity, because when I did that, my horrifying demons would emerge and I would see them and cringe...ultimately I drove myself away. I fled into the shadows and kept my truths in the dark, where they bled my energy away. In order to maintain such a faรงade, I sought others who were similarly hiding their own shadows. I stayed for five years with someone who kept me more than a stone's throw from his scars, so I only barely knew about what he had been through.
Because I had insisted on that distance from my own wounds, I mingled most comfortably with other wounded, damaged people who could only operate from that pained place and were very limited in what they could give. So in true co-dependent fashion, we were compensating for one another's shortcomings and felt incredibly taxed, while also requiring that the other prove our "worthiness" of love to us.
I became a "crumb-taker," and would accept the barest minimum in terms of emotional closeness, just so that I could feel desirable, and maintain a status of "taken." I always wanted more, I desperately yearned for more, but was never honest with myself about the arrangement I had agreed to.
The flip-side of that was that if I was a "crumb-taker," I must also have been a "crumb-giver," which in itself is my most recent revelation. I could not give myself wholly with love because, in all honesty, I was not whole in Love. I did not love myself. I did not see myself as lovable, and as long as I could not see myself with affection, I selfishly made only a false image of myself available for anyone else.
With much effort and struggle, I managed to identify the serious blockages in my spirit--the sources of my crippling self-hatred and agony, and eventually forgive myself for not being perfect. Luckily, when you practice forgiving by starting with yourself, it becomes a lot easier to forgive others. You tend to see them as flawed, just like you are. You have a bit more perspective on the source of their pain, and how it might manifest itself in "symptoms" that hurt you inadvertently.
The beautiful thing about Love is that it compounds itself with little effort. Once I started loving authentically, the fire grew hotter and brighter and ignited everything around it. The more you love, the easier it becomes to Love. The more you forgive, the easier it is to forgive. The more you smile, the more you dance, the more you embrace, the more you relax, the more you reflect, the more you exercise compassion, the easier they all become.
I truly believe that I am where I am today, this very minute, because every step I've made on this journey up to this point. I could not have ascended to this point without first being willing to climb. I would never have discovered the treasures at the top if I hadn't ascended to this point. It makes sense that the rewards I can give thanks for were hard-earned and I would not have deserved nor appreciated them without the requisite effort.
Love is easy, but it takes work. It takes focus. It takes flexibility and patience. It takes a willingness to learn about yourself and others. It takes authenticity. It takes you.
I am no longer a crumb-taker, and I have redefined my position--I attempt to limit my expectations. Today is enough, because today is the present, and the present is a gift. And there is love in every moment of it, and it is exactly enough.
I certainly thought I did, and I attempted to use words like, "I love you," and such things to that effect, but I was stuck--blocked somewhere within in some way that prevented me from truly loving.
What I was doing instead was taking. I had to rely on the affection and gestures of others to "prove" to myself that I was worthy. That input from my friends, my boyfriend, my family, had to outweigh the deep shame and contempt I held for myself.
In these relationships with others, I was not coming from a place of honesty or authenticity, because when I did that, my horrifying demons would emerge and I would see them and cringe...ultimately I drove myself away. I fled into the shadows and kept my truths in the dark, where they bled my energy away. In order to maintain such a faรงade, I sought others who were similarly hiding their own shadows. I stayed for five years with someone who kept me more than a stone's throw from his scars, so I only barely knew about what he had been through.
Because I had insisted on that distance from my own wounds, I mingled most comfortably with other wounded, damaged people who could only operate from that pained place and were very limited in what they could give. So in true co-dependent fashion, we were compensating for one another's shortcomings and felt incredibly taxed, while also requiring that the other prove our "worthiness" of love to us.
I became a "crumb-taker," and would accept the barest minimum in terms of emotional closeness, just so that I could feel desirable, and maintain a status of "taken." I always wanted more, I desperately yearned for more, but was never honest with myself about the arrangement I had agreed to.
The flip-side of that was that if I was a "crumb-taker," I must also have been a "crumb-giver," which in itself is my most recent revelation. I could not give myself wholly with love because, in all honesty, I was not whole in Love. I did not love myself. I did not see myself as lovable, and as long as I could not see myself with affection, I selfishly made only a false image of myself available for anyone else.
With much effort and struggle, I managed to identify the serious blockages in my spirit--the sources of my crippling self-hatred and agony, and eventually forgive myself for not being perfect. Luckily, when you practice forgiving by starting with yourself, it becomes a lot easier to forgive others. You tend to see them as flawed, just like you are. You have a bit more perspective on the source of their pain, and how it might manifest itself in "symptoms" that hurt you inadvertently.
The beautiful thing about Love is that it compounds itself with little effort. Once I started loving authentically, the fire grew hotter and brighter and ignited everything around it. The more you love, the easier it becomes to Love. The more you forgive, the easier it is to forgive. The more you smile, the more you dance, the more you embrace, the more you relax, the more you reflect, the more you exercise compassion, the easier they all become.
I truly believe that I am where I am today, this very minute, because every step I've made on this journey up to this point. I could not have ascended to this point without first being willing to climb. I would never have discovered the treasures at the top if I hadn't ascended to this point. It makes sense that the rewards I can give thanks for were hard-earned and I would not have deserved nor appreciated them without the requisite effort.
Love is easy, but it takes work. It takes focus. It takes flexibility and patience. It takes a willingness to learn about yourself and others. It takes authenticity. It takes you.
I am no longer a crumb-taker, and I have redefined my position--I attempt to limit my expectations. Today is enough, because today is the present, and the present is a gift. And there is love in every moment of it, and it is exactly enough.
2.09.2014
moonlight
He is my Moon
Cool and shining, his face is
Broad and beautiful, and sometimes
Hidden from sight.
He draws the waves up
And provides clear light
His story is long
And misunderstood.
***
When I declare to the world (or even to my tight-lipped Diary) that I am in love, that I am swooning and completely caught up and deliriously happy and grateful for my circumstances, too often I have promptly been swatted down--punished for my abandon.
Usually when I tell my mom, strangely enough.
I've mentioned Noah to my mom a number of times; at some point back in October, I think, again in December, and then most recently a few weeks ago. Of course, I'm always so excited to describe his fine qualities. Unlike the trend, however, each time I've simply had more wonderful things to say.
This man is a good man. He's got his own style, his own philosophy, and his own set of personal values. He knows what he's got going for him and he's content. I see how he treats people--as if he was raised properly by parents who encouraged respect and kindness to everyone--and I'm just enamored. He is completely genuine.
My goal these past couple months has been to slow my own pace (which can be reckless and impulsive) down to allow time for flowers to grow, for flavors to marinate, for the kaleidoscope to shift gradually into a new and beautiful scene. I've made myself stop needing a definition for my time with Noah. I've enjoyed having a crush that I fantasize about all week until I get to see him on the weekend. And I've seen him every weekend!
I've spent three days with him, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. We've shared some closer stories about our pasts, I told him more details about my dad, he mentioned some aspects of past relationships. We were sitting by the fire on Saturday night, drinking, and I clambered into his lap, facing him. The precise details of our conversation by this point are fuzzy, but he did tell me that he was very much opposed to the idea of having a relationship...until recently, when things have started to shift for him. And he told me I probably knew that was happening. Maybe I do. This whole situation could be us test-driving a scenario where we are major players in one another's lives. We're becoming good friends, and I really like that. I like who this person is, and I believe in him and his goals. I know that's mutual.
My personal expression is so word-based sometimes, that in the past I've forgotten that other people might not follow my example exactly, even if they are equally enthusiastic. Noah does things. He is a man of action. Certainly, he is confident and wise enough to actually spare a compliment now and again, but more often he is generous, gracious, and attentive as an expression of his deep admiration and caring. I asked him last night if I was reading his actions correctly, and he confirmed it. He's loving me very deliberately with every cup of coffee he makes for me before he makes one for himself. He's bearing his heart every time he brags about the game of darts I "destroyed" him at. He's showing how important I am and how much he trusts me by incorporating me into his weekend activities and errands and gatherings.
And when I sleep over, he has his arms wrapped around me literally all night. I spend all week in my own bed alone and I'm practically aching to have those arms around me...even with the snoring and the 20-minute increments of sleep!
I adore him.
And for Valentine's Day, I will cook him dinner (for the first time!) and we'll take a cab to a bar that has batting cages. I'm so excited! Batting cages!!
So yeah, maybe this wonderful man will be my wonderful man at some point. I'd be so honored to be his lady.
1.27.2014
Dear Diary,
I'm writing here so I don't gush to my polite, tolerant, beautiful friends who let me air out thousands of details constantly.
I'm writing here because the time I get to spend with the boy is often dominated by his talkative roommate. In fact, it's usually dominated by him. I enjoy hanging out with all of them, but our private time tends to be more intimate and less about casual conversation. We are gradually growing closer, but I haven't had any deep conversations with him in a fairly long time.
Diary, I think I'm doing it. At least, my deliberately trying to hang back and let details sort themselves out seems to be a sensible strategy. It's getting more peaceful. I feel lighter and more cheerful.
Also, as per the sage advice of dating columnists, I'm not writing off other options. There are still a few other gentlemen with whom I'm corresponding, but I'm not so invested in any of them...they seem to express enough interest to continue contacting me, and I'm interested enough to have conversation, so this is a helpful way not to fixate or obsess on anyone.
But the boy knows I'm enamored. I've told him.
And I'm not sorry that I did. I trust him. He's kind, he's caring, and he's protective. He's so damn humble. He's gentle with me.
In fact, I've told this boy how highly I think of him on many occasions, but I don't want to gush at him out of context. I don't want to over-say it, so it feels less honest and undeserved to him. We agreed last night that we are very fond of each other. He called me a "kick-ass lady," and then, "really killer," which is so terribly endearing. Then he rephrased it as, "seriously, I wouldn't spend this kind of time with you if I didn't really think that." I told him I knew, and that I am picky too.
He's not a perfect man, but he's a good man. I love his smile. I love how he holds me. I love how he treats his friends, and how he talks about them, and how he takes care of his shit like a grown up.
With some trepidation I asked if he would spend Valentine's Day with me, and he laughed a little and agreed that he'd plan for that. I don't want to hang expectations on him, because I like that we're evolving very slowly in a positive direction...but I want to secure this boy's company that night :)
Diary, I also think he's proud to spend time with me. I think he might appreciate having his friends see him being treated well by a woman they approve of. I know his friends approve of me :) He deserves to have someone beef up his ego a little bit--he has the least amount of ego of literally any guy I've ever dated.
I like him. I've liked him a lot since the first time we met, but now I know quite a bit more about him. I'm learning things about him every day. Almost every interaction with him has been great; even the times he canceled on me last-minute, he was extremely upfront about the circumstances and not simpering. I told him it was fine, but that the ball was in his court...and he understood and made things right eventually. I've never felt mishandled by him.
It seems, Diary, as if this were the type of guy who would go to great lengths in my favor to avoid hurting me, if at some point one of us stopped feeling the connection. I just think he's that stand-up of a guy. Even so, I hope we know each other for a long time. I like being included in his friendly gatherings and outings. It's easy to be around him.
Anyway, thanks Diary. It's lots of fun to have a crush. I just need to avoid fueling it at work!
I'm writing here because the time I get to spend with the boy is often dominated by his talkative roommate. In fact, it's usually dominated by him. I enjoy hanging out with all of them, but our private time tends to be more intimate and less about casual conversation. We are gradually growing closer, but I haven't had any deep conversations with him in a fairly long time.
Diary, I think I'm doing it. At least, my deliberately trying to hang back and let details sort themselves out seems to be a sensible strategy. It's getting more peaceful. I feel lighter and more cheerful.
Also, as per the sage advice of dating columnists, I'm not writing off other options. There are still a few other gentlemen with whom I'm corresponding, but I'm not so invested in any of them...they seem to express enough interest to continue contacting me, and I'm interested enough to have conversation, so this is a helpful way not to fixate or obsess on anyone.
But the boy knows I'm enamored. I've told him.
And I'm not sorry that I did. I trust him. He's kind, he's caring, and he's protective. He's so damn humble. He's gentle with me.
In fact, I've told this boy how highly I think of him on many occasions, but I don't want to gush at him out of context. I don't want to over-say it, so it feels less honest and undeserved to him. We agreed last night that we are very fond of each other. He called me a "kick-ass lady," and then, "really killer," which is so terribly endearing. Then he rephrased it as, "seriously, I wouldn't spend this kind of time with you if I didn't really think that." I told him I knew, and that I am picky too.
He's not a perfect man, but he's a good man. I love his smile. I love how he holds me. I love how he treats his friends, and how he talks about them, and how he takes care of his shit like a grown up.
With some trepidation I asked if he would spend Valentine's Day with me, and he laughed a little and agreed that he'd plan for that. I don't want to hang expectations on him, because I like that we're evolving very slowly in a positive direction...but I want to secure this boy's company that night :)
Diary, I also think he's proud to spend time with me. I think he might appreciate having his friends see him being treated well by a woman they approve of. I know his friends approve of me :) He deserves to have someone beef up his ego a little bit--he has the least amount of ego of literally any guy I've ever dated.
I like him. I've liked him a lot since the first time we met, but now I know quite a bit more about him. I'm learning things about him every day. Almost every interaction with him has been great; even the times he canceled on me last-minute, he was extremely upfront about the circumstances and not simpering. I told him it was fine, but that the ball was in his court...and he understood and made things right eventually. I've never felt mishandled by him.
It seems, Diary, as if this were the type of guy who would go to great lengths in my favor to avoid hurting me, if at some point one of us stopped feeling the connection. I just think he's that stand-up of a guy. Even so, I hope we know each other for a long time. I like being included in his friendly gatherings and outings. It's easy to be around him.
Anyway, thanks Diary. It's lots of fun to have a crush. I just need to avoid fueling it at work!
1.25.2014
Wait for it...
I recall very distinctly a time in my life (probably the majority of my life) where I always felt like I was holding my breath for things to fall into place. I was waiting for a functional relationship, and the education/experience/qualifications I'd been pushing for forever so that I could eventually get the job I was passionate about. I was reserving my appreciation for my body for when I'd finally shed the hundred pounds of hideous fat and revealed my perfect physique beneath. I had decided that once those things had been accomplished, that I could finally relax, be kind to myself, and feel genuinely happy.
Instead of really pushing for those things with hope in my heart, I saw my relationship going nowhere, my career efforts seemed impossibly uphill, and I was still wrapped in my fat shell. I felt robbed of youth and beauty and any financial stability after earning my degree. My boyfriend was actively avoiding me, even though we lived together. I saw him maybe twice a week. I worked a stressful job with coworkers all content to save their griping for on the clock, so the environment was thick with negativity. I volunteered for field assistanceships frequently, but felt like it was blind groping for an opportunity that I wasn't sure I'd recognize.
Waiting. Waiting for things to change, to get better. I was miserable. Nothing was going anywhere. I found myself laying in bed, praying for death to release me. I would mentally inventory the embarrassing details my family would learn posthumously, but mostly I didn't care. I was terribly alone, I hated myself, I hated my relationship, I hated my job, I couldn't see any possible way out.
After a near-death experience (and I'm not exaggerating) with a panic-induced asthma attack, I found myself actually regretting that I hadn't just died. That I was so close, and to have missed the opportunity. It was time for therapy.
My job offered an employee assistance program with free therapy sessions, so I got started with Barbara. She catalyzed major changes in my life. I took it seriously, and I embraced those changes, even though the process was often slow and painful. I tried to see the storm for what it was: temporary.
In the months that followed, I started Pilates four hours a week, and lost 15 lbs by the spring. I broke up with my boyfriend. I moved out of the apartment we shared. I started a summer internship hiking all day every day. I lost 20 more pounds. I returned to my parents' house, pounded the pavement hard looking for a job, and was suddenly looking at my passport and visa to move to Korea to teach English.
Within a year of starting therapy, I had changed everything. I got on a plane and moved to the other side of the planet. I lost more weight. I started training in tae kwon do. I made better friends. I traveled Asia.
I've stopped waiting, as much, and it's so exciting to reflect on what happened after my lowest point in 2007. But it's 2014. That tale ended in 2010. I'm in Arizona, still feeling some urge for a change. I'm so much happier, at least in longer stretches, and I take charge over the things I want to change. I'm much more spiritually at peace, and I practice mindfulness more and more. I have a wonderful social life in Tucson, with friends I love and trust. I have a job that is so much more positive. My students are loving and peaceful and I think we're all grateful to be together. I have a much healthier relationship with my mother.
The financial stability isn't there yet. The weight is a work in progress.
I'm sure when I reflect on this time in a few years, I will cite how transformative it was, too. How I was ever-growing and how all the time I was merely on that path to the next thing. I believe that.
Instead of really pushing for those things with hope in my heart, I saw my relationship going nowhere, my career efforts seemed impossibly uphill, and I was still wrapped in my fat shell. I felt robbed of youth and beauty and any financial stability after earning my degree. My boyfriend was actively avoiding me, even though we lived together. I saw him maybe twice a week. I worked a stressful job with coworkers all content to save their griping for on the clock, so the environment was thick with negativity. I volunteered for field assistanceships frequently, but felt like it was blind groping for an opportunity that I wasn't sure I'd recognize.
Waiting. Waiting for things to change, to get better. I was miserable. Nothing was going anywhere. I found myself laying in bed, praying for death to release me. I would mentally inventory the embarrassing details my family would learn posthumously, but mostly I didn't care. I was terribly alone, I hated myself, I hated my relationship, I hated my job, I couldn't see any possible way out.
After a near-death experience (and I'm not exaggerating) with a panic-induced asthma attack, I found myself actually regretting that I hadn't just died. That I was so close, and to have missed the opportunity. It was time for therapy.
My job offered an employee assistance program with free therapy sessions, so I got started with Barbara. She catalyzed major changes in my life. I took it seriously, and I embraced those changes, even though the process was often slow and painful. I tried to see the storm for what it was: temporary.
In the months that followed, I started Pilates four hours a week, and lost 15 lbs by the spring. I broke up with my boyfriend. I moved out of the apartment we shared. I started a summer internship hiking all day every day. I lost 20 more pounds. I returned to my parents' house, pounded the pavement hard looking for a job, and was suddenly looking at my passport and visa to move to Korea to teach English.
Within a year of starting therapy, I had changed everything. I got on a plane and moved to the other side of the planet. I lost more weight. I started training in tae kwon do. I made better friends. I traveled Asia.
I've stopped waiting, as much, and it's so exciting to reflect on what happened after my lowest point in 2007. But it's 2014. That tale ended in 2010. I'm in Arizona, still feeling some urge for a change. I'm so much happier, at least in longer stretches, and I take charge over the things I want to change. I'm much more spiritually at peace, and I practice mindfulness more and more. I have a wonderful social life in Tucson, with friends I love and trust. I have a job that is so much more positive. My students are loving and peaceful and I think we're all grateful to be together. I have a much healthier relationship with my mother.
The financial stability isn't there yet. The weight is a work in progress.
I'm sure when I reflect on this time in a few years, I will cite how transformative it was, too. How I was ever-growing and how all the time I was merely on that path to the next thing. I believe that.
1.20.2014
At some Point in Space
I bought two mice. The day after Bill broke up with me, actually. On my way home from a movie I saw with my AP Biology students.
I wanted presence in my house. I wanted something warm, something that responds.
So I came home with two tiny girls: Cinnamon and Nutmeg. I call them the Spice Girls, though really I just say their sweet little names to them. I set up their little colorful plastic cage, got them all cozy and fed, and they made themselves at home.
They sure do run in that wheel a lot. I figured I should give them a little wheel to run around the house. At first, I could only convince Nutmeg to climb into my hand, so I could get her in the ball. She seemed to get the hang of it right away.
Cinnamon was much more reluctant. She's actually pretty hesitant to get into my hand ever, but we're working on the trust thing. Eventually, actually last Tuesday (Christmas Eve), I got her and had her try it out. She went all over the house, bumping into my feet as I baked pumpkin pies to bring up to Phoenix. And then...I stopped getting bumped. And then I saw the empty ball. No mouse to be found.
I had a schedule, sadly, and I figured she'd be fine for a few days around the house. I hoped I'd find her as soon as I came home, and on Sunday afternoon I came home with my ears peeled. I didn't locate her until the evening, in my closet, but she's FAST! I left the top open on the cage a little each day, I'm not sure why...but I thought I spotted something like a mouse climbing up the outside of the cage...but when I took a closer look, nothing. So I kept looking. It's been two days, and I've tried drawing her out with food and into my little metal trap. No luck :(
Now it's New Year's Eve. The food I put out last night wasn't there anymore. I went to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu this morning, and came home. Nutmeg was cozy and adorable inside a sock I'd placed in the loft tower, and as I talked to her, whaddaya know! There's Cinnamon inside the cage. I suppose it makes sense; they're best friends and this was Cinnamon's safe place with plenty of food and water and bedding. The apartment is too rough a terrain for a little baby mouse.
Honestly, I'm shocked that I found her, and that she took herself home! Wonderful way to end the year.
This year....in reflection. It's been the best year of my life, I figure. Ups and downs. Lots of lessons.
I've had my resolve challenged. I've had to employ newly learned lessons and seek tranquility and spiritual growth while feeling strained and doubtful. The world has continued to turn and many problems have sorted themselves out, as long as I believed it. Why am I still so doubtful?
I've certainly grown in some aspects tremendously. I've had the chance to love some of the most profoundly beautiful people. I've been very loved by all of them. My mother and I developed a much stronger friendship. I've bonded deeply with my students, last year's and this.
I've worked my ass off at work and in school. There were probably lots of things I could have done that I blew off, but I made an effort not to break myself down. I spent all of this past quarter sick with bronchitis and a sinus infection, but this is when my current kids and I really fell in love.
I got to work in a biochemistry lab and I laughed every day. I rode my bike for miles in the summertime, and I got a good tan!
That summer job paid for my trip to Southeast Asia!!! I went to Thailand, visited Malaysia, and had layovers in Taiwan. I questioned what I learned about myself out there; I questioned why I was unsatisfied and what it was that I might really be needing.
I have many kinds of love in my life, but I realized I really want romantic love. Crazy, delirious love.
I think this year has been about grooming me to be that carefree, infatuated lover whose fuse is longer and whose adoration is genuine and pure. I've realized that I can be that person, up to a point, where fear causes my panicked guards to heave massive fences around my warm, welcoming courtyard. I'm quite flighty when it comes to romantic love.
Hence, my countless romantic encounters this year.
I dug myself a tiny bit further out of debt, though you'd never know it from the bill collectors' incessant phone calls. I'd say I chiseled about $1500 of what I owed this time last year. Goddamned slow going, this process.
I've been a heartbreaker, and jeez it's a tough business. I mean, I'd like to be the object of affection and attention without hurting people's feelings! I may have encouraged a couple of them, unfortunately, and in one case it worked out fine and in the other the guy had a meltdown. There's no predicting that, and it certainly wasn't about me.
I've gained and lost weight but overall, I feel good in my curves. I always see it as a work in progress, as a way to stay excited about movement and a reason to try different things.
There was someone, at some point in this past year, who I met in person (the first in ages) who was really charming and attentive. We got lunch together, and drinks, and went to an Insect Festival for our first date. Things moved very slowly. Things seemed to pause often. My personal work on growth and self-compassion were still the utmost priority.
Then Bill came around, expressed interest, and I dove into that so blindly and excitedly that we both burned out in a few weeks. It had no potential. We weren't right together. And this first someone, whom I'd spent more time with, whose friends I'd met, flowed more slowly, like an underground stream.
A stream that stayed steady.
There's this thing about listening. Standing quietly in the desert and letting the rustling leaves and the birdsongs and the sunlight say what they will. It's a patient thing. You let yourself accept whatever the world wants to tell you. It won't do to step foot into such a world and decide what it knows, where it's going, what it all means. It won't do in any world.
This year, 2014, is the year of my Goddess. This is the year of my peace, of my connection, of my new growth. I've spent two years pruning away dead and dying branches; clearing out the unnecessary so that my spirit can be light and shine brightly. Love resonates better in a heart that is intact. My pieces have all been reassembled.
And now, with this same someone, who holds me tightly, cares how I feel, tends to me thoughtfully, I find myself slowing down. Breathing it in. Letting this moment be now. Needing less from tomorrow. I'm learning patience. I'm allowing love. I'm letting fear repel off me like droplets of water on well-oiled feathers. Because now.
I realize that two years of healing have been necessary to bring me here. I would have nothing, or perhaps far less, to keep for myself to steady my ground, had I found these circumstances too early. I rejoice in the perfection of Universal timing. My heart is full and joyful. I'm grateful for the moment's Peace.
I wanted presence in my house. I wanted something warm, something that responds.
So I came home with two tiny girls: Cinnamon and Nutmeg. I call them the Spice Girls, though really I just say their sweet little names to them. I set up their little colorful plastic cage, got them all cozy and fed, and they made themselves at home.
They sure do run in that wheel a lot. I figured I should give them a little wheel to run around the house. At first, I could only convince Nutmeg to climb into my hand, so I could get her in the ball. She seemed to get the hang of it right away.
Cinnamon was much more reluctant. She's actually pretty hesitant to get into my hand ever, but we're working on the trust thing. Eventually, actually last Tuesday (Christmas Eve), I got her and had her try it out. She went all over the house, bumping into my feet as I baked pumpkin pies to bring up to Phoenix. And then...I stopped getting bumped. And then I saw the empty ball. No mouse to be found.
I had a schedule, sadly, and I figured she'd be fine for a few days around the house. I hoped I'd find her as soon as I came home, and on Sunday afternoon I came home with my ears peeled. I didn't locate her until the evening, in my closet, but she's FAST! I left the top open on the cage a little each day, I'm not sure why...but I thought I spotted something like a mouse climbing up the outside of the cage...but when I took a closer look, nothing. So I kept looking. It's been two days, and I've tried drawing her out with food and into my little metal trap. No luck :(
Now it's New Year's Eve. The food I put out last night wasn't there anymore. I went to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu this morning, and came home. Nutmeg was cozy and adorable inside a sock I'd placed in the loft tower, and as I talked to her, whaddaya know! There's Cinnamon inside the cage. I suppose it makes sense; they're best friends and this was Cinnamon's safe place with plenty of food and water and bedding. The apartment is too rough a terrain for a little baby mouse.
Honestly, I'm shocked that I found her, and that she took herself home! Wonderful way to end the year.
*************************
I've had my resolve challenged. I've had to employ newly learned lessons and seek tranquility and spiritual growth while feeling strained and doubtful. The world has continued to turn and many problems have sorted themselves out, as long as I believed it. Why am I still so doubtful?
I've certainly grown in some aspects tremendously. I've had the chance to love some of the most profoundly beautiful people. I've been very loved by all of them. My mother and I developed a much stronger friendship. I've bonded deeply with my students, last year's and this.
I've worked my ass off at work and in school. There were probably lots of things I could have done that I blew off, but I made an effort not to break myself down. I spent all of this past quarter sick with bronchitis and a sinus infection, but this is when my current kids and I really fell in love.
I got to work in a biochemistry lab and I laughed every day. I rode my bike for miles in the summertime, and I got a good tan!
That summer job paid for my trip to Southeast Asia!!! I went to Thailand, visited Malaysia, and had layovers in Taiwan. I questioned what I learned about myself out there; I questioned why I was unsatisfied and what it was that I might really be needing.
I have many kinds of love in my life, but I realized I really want romantic love. Crazy, delirious love.
I think this year has been about grooming me to be that carefree, infatuated lover whose fuse is longer and whose adoration is genuine and pure. I've realized that I can be that person, up to a point, where fear causes my panicked guards to heave massive fences around my warm, welcoming courtyard. I'm quite flighty when it comes to romantic love.
Hence, my countless romantic encounters this year.
I dug myself a tiny bit further out of debt, though you'd never know it from the bill collectors' incessant phone calls. I'd say I chiseled about $1500 of what I owed this time last year. Goddamned slow going, this process.
I've been a heartbreaker, and jeez it's a tough business. I mean, I'd like to be the object of affection and attention without hurting people's feelings! I may have encouraged a couple of them, unfortunately, and in one case it worked out fine and in the other the guy had a meltdown. There's no predicting that, and it certainly wasn't about me.
I've gained and lost weight but overall, I feel good in my curves. I always see it as a work in progress, as a way to stay excited about movement and a reason to try different things.
*************************
There was someone, at some point in this past year, who I met in person (the first in ages) who was really charming and attentive. We got lunch together, and drinks, and went to an Insect Festival for our first date. Things moved very slowly. Things seemed to pause often. My personal work on growth and self-compassion were still the utmost priority.
Then Bill came around, expressed interest, and I dove into that so blindly and excitedly that we both burned out in a few weeks. It had no potential. We weren't right together. And this first someone, whom I'd spent more time with, whose friends I'd met, flowed more slowly, like an underground stream.
A stream that stayed steady.
There's this thing about listening. Standing quietly in the desert and letting the rustling leaves and the birdsongs and the sunlight say what they will. It's a patient thing. You let yourself accept whatever the world wants to tell you. It won't do to step foot into such a world and decide what it knows, where it's going, what it all means. It won't do in any world.
This year, 2014, is the year of my Goddess. This is the year of my peace, of my connection, of my new growth. I've spent two years pruning away dead and dying branches; clearing out the unnecessary so that my spirit can be light and shine brightly. Love resonates better in a heart that is intact. My pieces have all been reassembled.
And now, with this same someone, who holds me tightly, cares how I feel, tends to me thoughtfully, I find myself slowing down. Breathing it in. Letting this moment be now. Needing less from tomorrow. I'm learning patience. I'm allowing love. I'm letting fear repel off me like droplets of water on well-oiled feathers. Because now.
I realize that two years of healing have been necessary to bring me here. I would have nothing, or perhaps far less, to keep for myself to steady my ground, had I found these circumstances too early. I rejoice in the perfection of Universal timing. My heart is full and joyful. I'm grateful for the moment's Peace.
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