Life’s Instruction Manual June 22, 2009

Okay, so life doesn’t come with an instruction manual.  And the movies and TV shows we’re raised on are less about real life than they are escapes from it.  What would a movie about real life look like?  It would be awfully slow.

I don’t know that it’s real lfe I’m interested in seeing, so much as a serene way to approach whatever it brings us.  Someone in a meeting yesterday quoted her pastor, who is apparently in one of the 12-step programs, and he said “serenity is not finding freedom from the storm, it is finding calm during the storm.”  I think some of that calm comes from the belief that we are not existentially alone, that there is a Higher Power there to guide and care for us, and sometimes I feel sure of that, others I don’t.  Part of life in my family was a sense of feeling – and often being – very much alone.  Not alone in terms of basic needs – clothing, shelter, food – but in terms of not being known or seen or particularly liked.  It occurred to me last night that I’ve only once had a sense of being surrounded by “my people,” when I was at a summer college program in high school.  We were all so excited to be together, piled on beds stroking each other’s hair and talking and talking, watching “Harold and Maude” and crying, and I felt for the first time like I truly fit in.  Being gay contributed to the lack of that feeling, for sure – I’m such an incredibly affectionate person, tickle my skin or stroke my hair and I will never tire of it – and I was afraid to be close with other girls from a very early age, though I couldn’t have put my finger on why at the time.  Only now am I much more comfortable with affection, much more inclined to give and receive hugs.  But I still don’t have “my people.”  They’re not in academia.  They’re not my biological family, for sure.  My sponsor feels like my people, but she may be the only one.  Is having that group around whom one can be totally authentic a myth?  Is the authenticity something I need to seek from within myself, knowing that if I’m comfortable with myself, I can be at home with anyone?  Is this again where the HP relationship comes into play?  I am constantly reminded that needing anyone should always be followed up by those Sting lyrics – set them free.  Needing someone is a set-up for dependency, for expectations, for anger, whereas being grateful for someone but knowing I will be okay without them…detachment?  Zen concepts of non-attachment?  Where is the middle path, the tenuous pull between that sanctified notion of family, which requires dependence and specialness; and spiritual health, which demands a level of detachment and reliance only on ourselves and a power greater than we are?  Why is my head so busy with all this?

Would You Like Some Tea with those Keys? March 5, 2009

I did the thing that makes writers quake in fear and self-loathing: bumped into my little, ridiculously unstable TV dinner tray with my hip, and heard the slosh of my nearly-full tea mug as its contents tipped over this darling, brand-new little netbook.  And yes, the tea contained honey, though thankfully not milk, which I’ve now read is basically a laptop hollow-point bullet.

I’m writing on it now, but the bottom left keys just don’t have the click they once did, and I’m debating on whether to try to return it or not, as I’ve only had it a couple of weeks.

The truth, though?  I’m standing at my kitchen island typing this out on its keys, and guess what’s sitting right next to my arm?  A big ol’ mug of coffee.  With sugar and soy milk, no less.  This morning I realized I was grappling with a lot of shame over what I’d done, the parental voice shouting at me about how I’d treated something new and costly.  But now, I’m just a student/writer/gadget geek who likes a beverage with her stream of consciousness.  I’ll be more careful on that wobbly little Ikea TV tray, but truly, expecting myself not to drink, eat, or pet my animals when I’m working from home is a bit ridiculous, and these things happen.  Imagine if I had a puppy or a kid who knocked over the mug – would I scream at them about how they knew this would happen and did they know how much it would cost to replace?

Maybe I can think of this as more of an electronic hazing ritual: kind of like when we drop that gorgeous new cell phone on the pavement and it gets some huge scratch, but it’s otherwise fine.  We’re disgusted by our clumsiness at first, but then it’s just a cell phone, and it works just as well with its laugh lines and crows’ feet – the scratches and dings become part of its identity.  And we often don’t drop it as calamitously ever again.  What the hell is that about?  At any rate, maybe that’s what I’ve done, and my little machine now has a lazy “z” to remind me of what we’ve been through together.  Like we got a tattoo to drunkenly, stupidly mark this new love forevermore.  Or she did, at least.

Shame’s a toughie, though.  So incredibly useless.  So paralyzing.  Are there people who can feel regret or anger without it turning to shame or self-blame?  Could I interview them, please?  Or get a wee bit of their brain fused with mine?  Awareness, as always, is the first giant step, and I was very loving to myself every time I awakened during the early morning hours with a heaviness in my chest and a mild sense of persecution – I literally wrap my arms around myself and kiss my skin, saying “it’s okay, I love you” over and over again.  It helps – it really does.  It’s what a good parent would do, or a good partner/spouse.  It’s what C would do if she’d been here with me – she’d have talked me down, stroked my skin, suggested all the things that could be done to make the situation better.  To be able to do that for myself is seismic.  What I’d really like this morning is to get to a meeting, but as recovery-intensive as this area is, there isn’t one on Thursday mornings, at least that I know of.  I attend an open AA meditation meeting on Friday mornings that I’m definitely going to tomorrow – there is so much wisdom and humor in that room, and I think one thing AA folks have way over us Al-Anoners is their sense of humor.  When you face death and choose to return, I guess you can find a lot to laugh about.  Not that aspects of my life and recovery haven’t been pee-pants funny, but somehow as a group we seem to take ourselves far more seriously, always probing, thinking, processing.  I guess that’s why we can still drink.  Oh my, that’s kind of funny.

Newton Faulkner is my new music crush.  “Hand Build by Robots” is the album, and I just can’t stop listening to it.  He’s got this sexy, gravelly voice and great guitar skills, which pretty much amounts to love in my book, but he also writes some great lyrics and has a couple of rhythms that I hear in my head and can’t help dancing around to.  One’s on right now (for real – not in my head) – “All I Got.”

Okay, so the laptop’s performed well through this first typing test (all typos are the tea’s fault, though – not mine).  It’s time to get some morning chores done and then settle into using this for its intended purpose – getting my qualifying exam up to snuff.  And if I get stressed, well, maybe you’ll hear from me again later.

January 10, 2009

Elizabeth Gilbert, Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, Al-Anon/12-Step tenets, even probably Pema Chodron though I don’t know her work as well – they’re all saying the same thing in different words (and with different publishers): that loving the self and coming from that loving place is the key to everything.  We materialize into our lives whatever we hold in our thought – I think it was Richard Bach who said that.

walking on sunshine February 1, 2008

and don’t it feel good? okay, maybe im not quite that ecstatic, but im truly, deeply content, and its got not one damn thing to do with any drama or involvement with anyone else. i love my life. i love my home. i love my dog. and i am learning how to lead a life i love, as well.

Transitional Objects January 27, 2008

I’m thinking about getting voice recognition software. I’m a quick hunt-and-pecker, but I wonder if my thoughts would go down differently if I didn’t have to wait for my fingers to catch up to my brain. Though I do like the tap tap tap on the keyboard, and I’d much rather learn to type quickly by touch, but will I, after all these years?

I have a lot of thoughts swimming around in my head. Sometimes I miss having someone to fuss over – to clean the house for in preparation for her arrival, to prettify myself, shave, smell nice for. I miss the drama of flirting. I attended a book group on “Eat Pray Love” this morning, and one member of the group was talking about how David was just a “transitional object:” that he was there to help catapult (my word) her out of her marriage and onto whatever was next. I started thinking about B in those terms: is that why the relationship only lasted a year? It happened a mere six months after C moved out of my house, and C and I were still sleeping together even in February of that year, I think, so I really think it’s possible that I jumped into the relationship with B in order to make a full break from all that was so unsatisfying with C. It only matters because it puts the relationship with B in a slightly different perspective – that she wasn’t really a serious relationship candidate, but more of a symbolic stand-in of sorts. And she did introduce me to my spiritual teacher (Al-Anon), and she did crack me wide open so more light could come in – she served her purpose incredibly well. But I don’t want to be a dog at the dump with a can stuck on my nose – I don’t particularly miss her, and I am realizing all the ways the relationship was a compromise for me, but I don’t have anything to replace it with at the moment except for excruciatingly cheesy episodes of “Beverly Hills Bordello” and “L Word.” I so so so so don’t want a relationship right now, and I know I can’t even choose well yet, but there are moments when I miss the lust, the electricity, the excitement, the…do I miss the distraction? Wow, less and less. I am becoming so much more comfortable with my life – even the fact that it’s a Saturday and I’m completely content to be home by myself, writing, reading, napping. I don’t feel lonely, I don’t feel afraid of being left alone with myself. A book called “The Joy Diet” was recommended by someone in the book group (even she conceded it was an awful name), and apparently one of her remedies is spending time with yourself and being still. I don’t know if she means meditation, but I do see that the universe can speak to me much more often and more clearly when everything around me is quiet. Just this afternoon when I arrived home, I was squatting down to put something away in my kitchen, and my cat clambered up onto my knees (one of my favorite things that he does). As I’m sitting still and petting him, I start looking around, and I just happen to notice that there is a leak under one of the radiators. How else would I ever have noticed, until it actually became a serious problem?

See, a friend just called and I didn’t even feel like picking up the phone. Sometimes people are a lot of work, much as I might love them, and as I’m becoming more at ease in my own skin, I find that being with myself is kind of fun and easy. Not to mention my dog just put his nose by my lap and my cat is flanking me on the other side.

I wonder how many days I could not shower and still not be disgusted with myself? I’m going on at least four days now, and with my hair up, you really can’t tell how long it’s been. At what point could I just not stand the smell or feel of myself anymore? Will I shower today, or wait another day? Stay tuned…

Dare to be Yourself January 24, 2008

From “Courage to Change:” “I dare to be myself…I can only learn to love myself if I am willing to learn who I am.” Yes! That completely sums it up.  The only way for me to truly learn who I am is a) to be single and selfish in the good sense of the word, and b) to see this as a time of experimentation, with curiosity rather than judgment or fear.  Hmm, okay, I like getting back into bed in the mornings.  Does this mean I’m aimless and lazy? No, it means I like getting back into bed, cuddling with my cat, reading a book I enjoy, and dozing until 9 or so.  It’s lovely.  I’m gaining a little weight.  Does this mean I’m fat and lazy and will just keep getting bigger?  No, it means I may need to exercise a bit more if I want to stay slim and continue to eat as I please.  No ultimatums (ultimata?), no hard lines; just curiosity, patience, and if possible, a sense of humor about it all.

The Truth About 35+ January 16, 2008

is that it’s a woman’s chrysalis time: someone could have warned us, but it wouldnt have made any difference. can you imagine some beautiful, wise butterfly approaching a caterpillar and saying “yeah, that leaving the coccoon thing? it’s gonna hurt something awful, but you’ll be so much freer after it’s over.” big help. we have to be broken down. cracked open, terrified and in unbearable discomfort in order to make truly life-altering changes, otherwise why in god’s name would we do it?

The Journey January 14, 2008

We’re all on it. I just read “AtDD”’s blog and am so moved by her experience and her ability to write about it – I do find that I have an easier time writing regularly when I’m going through a difficult period, which maybe is kind of like saying I like being with myself when I’m having a hard time. A nice spin. A digression, perhaps, but nonetheless a nice way to look at things.

One of my greatest certainties at this point is that not only would a relationship not make my life better, but that I’m still not “well” enough to choose a relationship that would really be growthful and healthy for me. I’m transforming at a rapid pace, yet I have moments of still feeling stagnant, purposeless, heel-dragging, and this morning those feelings surrounded me like a shroud. My program would call this my “disease:” the part of me that tries to convince me my life will be the worst, most trudgingly difficult it can be, rather than the best or an even smattering of both with some even-keel in between. My mom is a super-powered career woman, probably in the top 5% of female earners in this country (doing something she loves and never ever dreamed she’d be doing), and she is always in motion: pilates, private jets to hear her friend the opera singer sing, meetings across town before the 20 minutes of therapy she can squeeze into her schedule, trips to Bhutan, Brazil, London. So, as you might guess, my ideas of success and productivity are ridiculously skewed. I am both homebody and travel-bug, I love to be busy but get stressed if I don’t have my time on the couch with my cat in my arms. It is so fucking hard to discover my own pace, my own path to success and peace when she’s on the autostrasse, whizzing past me and back again. When I was young she once told me to get my nose out of my book because my ass wasn’t going to get any smaller by reading. She’d never, ever dare say such a thing now (she knows I’d never speak to her again), but her example is loud and clear enough to have been yodeled from a mountaintop.

Alone Again, Naturally December 30, 2007

Ha.  A friend came to stay with me since Thursday and just left, and part of me feels so enormously relieved, and part of me feels those old fears about being in enemy territory when I’m alone.  I had an insecurity dream last night that made me realize I haven’t had shameful, “why doesn’t she/he/anyone like me and what did I do to cause this” feelings in quite some time, but brought back how awful they feel when I am wrapped in them.  If you’re hard wired to think of yourself as a nerd; as an unpopular, unattractive, uncharismatic loser-y type, all the contradictions in the world can’t permanently uncross those wires, or at least not in a few short months.  It’s wonderful that I’m finding a center to come back to, that I’m having days of happiness and satisfaction and friendships with people who can tell me they love me in a no-strings-attached, forthright way that is allowing me to feel loved and accepted and “cool.”  I am charismatic.  There’s really no question about that.  It’s been my self-hate and shame and insecurity that has tarnished my shine, but the shine’s been underneath it all along.  I’m just so quick (thank you, my family) to assume the tarnish is through some fault of my own, some shortcoming of my own, rather than other people using their own cracked or fun-house distorting mirrors on me.  I am starting to see myself as I truly am, and I’ve known I like that person for a long time, I just haven’t let myself spend extended lengths of time alone with her.  So, for today?  Will I get under a blanket and read and nap?  Will I continue to straighten up my office?  Stay tuned…

Gray Skies and Flurries…How New December 21, 2007

That just about perfectly reflects my mood – it’s December 21st and I’m so freaking tired of this weather and tired of being tired of this weather.  I want to wear flirty skirts again!  Tank tops!  I want to feel my body again, instead of wrapping it up in layers and layers of insulation (clothes, not fat, for the time being).  I love my home, love my views, but all this white and gray is nerve-fraying.  Anyone in a warm climate want to do a house swap for a few weeks?  Oh my, that would be phenomenal.

For anyone who is dabbling in the notion of joining a 12-step program: check out lots and lots of different meetings before you decide if it’s right for you.  I went to a meeting last night that was so awful for me: it kicked up ALL my snobbery and feelings of “terminal uniqueness,” and I was primarily so grateful I have groups in which I feel a sense of belonging, respect and admiration.  There’s this concept of “principles over personalities,” and sometimes I have a harder time than others living by that.  Also, and I will freely admit this here, I don’t like kids.  Sirens blare, drums roll – yup, I just don’t like ‘em, not even the ones in my immediate family.  They bore and annoy me.  And there were several children running roughshod all over the room while someone was speaking last night, and I didn’t know who I wanted to throttle most…yes I did, I wanted to throttle the parents.  For christ’s sake, either teach your kid manners or take them out of the meeting: this is for everyone, not just your own damn convenience or pleasure.  Yeah.

I promised myself I’d get in the shower and not be late for a commitment I have at 11:30.  I am very often late.  It’s gotten better, but more often than not I’m still rushing around, creating a crisis where there need not be any.  So I’ll go, and maybe write more later.