April 22, 2011
Tofu in my stomach and betrayal on the brain. Told my girlfriend the story of Christ’s sacrifice for us last night over Indian food. And in the moment of describing the pain he felt in the garden of Gesthemane I almost wept into my sweet potato masala. Thinking about the humanity of someone who challenged the system and was then abandoned by everyone in the moment of his greatest need – even god- was overwhelming. It’s a story we all understand. Unfortunately right? I’m no savior but I have been betrayed and abandoned. I’m no judas but I have betrayed and abandoned.
I hate my coworker. I had hope that we would together build something amazing here. Instead we just tore each other down. Not intentionally. I believe completely the damage I received was unintentional and unintended. And I stood tonight before my community with shaky voice and realized I have lost my way. I can’t lead if I am lost. The question I have for myself is am I lost in that way that happens when we are deep in the finding? Or am I lost in that way that is about denying where I need to go?
August 22, 2010
The past really didn’t go anywhere. It’s in boulder right now. It was on the phone with me on Friday. It surprises me when I am talking to my lover. I am who I was as much as ever.
November 4, 2009
Some days feel longer than others. Yesterday felt like a weight that crushed all my feelings out. I used the f* word a lot. I expressed my most selfish, unenlightened feelings. I tried to reach for the most gallant in me and couldn’t reconcile it with the aching wound.
Things I want: a time machine; fewer emotional conversations; a faster process
Things I don’t want to want that I want: to be okay with her hurting or feel bad too
Things I need: to feel safe with you; to re-center; to celebrate all that we are
Things I feel: afraid; angry; sad; hopefully; safe; caring; tired
Things I remember: that you love me; that I love you; that in the end this is just a moment, among the others.
November 2, 2009
I keep feeling better, only to wake up on Monday and feel burdened again. I am really trying to trust that I am not making the same mistake. Again. We went to a party on Saturday. I had spent a couple of weeks really focused on it as a date night. Us time- no kids – connection. We had different ideas about what that meant and I just disconnected. I went to the party and spent my time doing my own thing — together and also separate. More like when we met. I played the Chicago soundtrack this weekend and he asked me if it was a warning. He was kidding. And yet… maybe it is. I won’t be physically violent. I have been emotionally and spiritually damaging in the past. Ripping myself back and into myself, little tendrils hanging between me and the other that I slowly either reject or reabsorb.
I have been reaching out to people in ways I haven’t in awhile. I don’t know what that means. Playing on OKC. Chatting with folks more.I have this part of myself that I am holding in reserve. Waiting to give it back to you or keep it until someone shows me they appreciate and value it.
October 21, 2009
I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. Right now my guts are out there though. An acquaintance of mine has an open wound in his side — very thin flesh covers and protects his most vulnerable internal organs. He wears layers of protection and walks with awareness that any random, accidental movement could bring him down and possibly end his life. I guess emotional damage isn’t nearly as dramatic. My life isn’t going to end because I am really, really sad about some things. I do feel like I have this layer of cellophane between me and everything else. It’s part roller coaster, part marathon. These ups and down happen and I want to just curl into a ball. And I have a life that requires I pace myself and I keep on going. Which is most likely a good thing– I think being able to indulge ourselves in our bouts of self-pity is rarely a good thing.
What your risk reveals what you value.
You spent me without counting the cost.
I want things, too. I just keep choosing to be here and now.
I worry that you are so used to being the star and the focus that you think you somehow are entitled. That I don’t have a choice. That you can treat me with disregard and say it’s the nature of our relationship. We are in an open relationship, which means we get the freedom to explore opportunities and delights. It doesn’t mean you get the freedom to ignore me or devalue who I am to you when it’s convenient.
October 19, 2009
I was in Florida for work last week. Yesterday, I finally made it to the beach. All the Floridians were convinced it wasn’t beach weather, but I rolled my pants up, took my shoes off, and waded in as far as I could go. The first shock of water was like a bath gone cold. As my body adjusted to the temperature, it felt perfect. Salty water soaked through the bandage on my foot and stung the place on my ankle where I’d been bitten the other night and scratched a little too enthusiastically. I sank my toes into the sand and let the water whirl around my legs. The water was a little angry, wind whipping, white caps crashing far into the horizon. Not a swimming friendly ocean. It took most of my willpower not to disrobe completely and immerse myself despite that. Last summer we visited the beach and I closed my eyes and floated in the arms of the ocean for as long as I could hear the sounds of people on the beach. This turned out to be mildly foolish, as I floated fairly far out. Luckily I am a strong swimmer and no harm was done. I knew looking at the ocean yesterday that I couldn’t float again. But I could sit. I have some small regret that I did not. Instead, I waded for as long as possible and then washed my hands in ritual fashion, reminding myself of my inner strength and how it connects to the strength beyond me. And for a time, I was at peace.
October 16, 2009
I made this place to contain the lessons of the past. I wish the heart had grades, like school, and I could just review my 5th grade primer, retake the test, and be done. It turns out life is a little more inter-connected. All the ventricles work together to keep things going… blood and breathe are balanced and somehow my past keeps running into my present.
I don’t know why I feel so … kicked? drained? broken? hopeful? I can’t distinguish between my emotions. I just know this is a test for me. Will I repeat the lessons of the past, like an inmate, certain that 2 + 2 must be 47, if I just add it one more time.
I know that 2 +2 is 4.
I know what I need to heal.
I am asking for things I don’t want to ask for. Things I don’t want to need. I am fighting myself, my insecurities, my social conditioning, my anger, my grief, my pettiness … I am accepting myself, my insecurities, my social conditioning, my anger, my grief, my pettiness.
What is skin, really? It’s nothing. It’s a moment. How much is a moment worth? What you risk reveals what you value. I finally understand that saying.
There are questions I didn’t ask. I wasn’t ready. I want you to feel the stabbing of breathes, shallow, deep, each one digging through me sharply, until all I could do was curl into a ball, like a polly-wolly bug, showing only the strongest part of me to the world. Except I don’t really want you to feel it. I just don’t want to feel it, ever again. I would pay a lot for that. Even changing my patterns. Even learning that 2 +2 = 4.
Even taking the leap of faith.