Conventions and Conciousness

"All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention, if one can first conceive of doing so. . . . .My life extends far beyond the limits of me.  - Cloud Atlas

A basic law of the universe is that energy cannot be created nor destroyed, it can only change form. The same law applies to our consciousness.

I’ve finally picked up Women Who Run With the Wolves the past couple of days and continued to read it. The author mentions a Japanese philosopher, Shotoku Taishi, who lived at the turn of the 6^th century. Among other things, he taught that one must do psychic work in both the inner and outer worlds; even more so, he taught tolerance for every creature, human, and emotion. Imagine that? She goes on to say, “Even raw and messy emotions are a form of light, crackling, bursting with energy.”

This makes more sense to me than anything I've heard up until now. 

This particular topic resonated with me this morning, mostly because I still feel an intense form of rage. It’s one of those unpleasant and taboo emotions that we’re often told we can’t feel. “Just get over it” is something I’ve heard more times than I care to count. PTSD doesn’t work that way. I sincerely wish I could just get over it and let it go, but that’s not really addressing the issue, is it?

I had an interesting conversation with the bartender at a wine bar recently. He suggested several books which I feel like I have to get immediately . . . but then I remember I’m still working through my beloved journey with the wolves and have a couple of Dean Radin’s works that I’ve set aside as well. One of the names he mentioned (I think it may have been a philosopher and not an author) was this: from birth, we spend the rest of our lives trying to heal ourselves. Why is that? My best guess is that we spend more time suppressing feelings (particularly the ‘bad’ ones) rather than expressing them, or finding an outlet to expel those emotions.

I think it's the permission part that I struggle with. It's a common theme with me, isn't it? 

So I’m feeling an intense rage right now. I can acknowledge that. Nothing spells out ‘rage’ more than a flurry of messages sent online that are rampant with grammatical errors. This was an exchange that took place between the friend from tango and I, because I’m still trying to wrap my head around why he’d badger me into admitting something I didn’t want to share. Perhaps I need to stop asking ‘why’ and simply accept that we’re all human and flawed to some degree.

Perhaps the Irish Lass needs to remind herself of this more often.

It’s not only the PTSD relapse, but other things taking place in my life that have compounded my current anger. I’m angry at a few people in my life at the moment.

My office environment feels toxic to me now. I sincerely don’t want to come into work (but I don’t really have a choice, do I?) because I don’t want to be subjected to such an insidious personality (DF) and a manager who sticks his head in the sand. For the record, I like him very much as a person. He’s just poor management material. It took me taking a sick day because I was simply not functional and sending him an e-mail again explaining the toxicity of my interactions with DF, my PTSD was triggered and that I had called the union to mediate a meeting for him to pay attention. Still, this was something he didn’t handle himself. He finally had our HR person handle the situation after over a year of complaints not only from me, but from others in the office, regarding DF's behavior. I’m furious that it had to come to this before anything was done about the atmosphere of the office in which I work 5 days a week. I'm sure only a few words spoken to her by someone of authority (because she appeared to take my own concerns with a grain of salt) would have remedied the situation fairly quickly. I currently spend most of my life at work and it’s the last place on earth I should be triggered because someone else needs to scream about her victimization. I’m tempted to include an excerpt from her ranting, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ll just say that it surmounts to a 12 page diatribe of someone in a victim contest crying wolf. That’s the best description I can give.

I don't like using this expression. It's an insult to the wolves. 

I have one friendship that I wasn’t sure about and when I spent a weekend with this friend after not seeing her for a couple of months, I ultimately decided that her presence in my life is not beneficial to me. I’ve grown tired of friendships that are clearly one sided and I was mentally exhausted by the end of the weekend. Part of that was due to me having to pay for 85% of everything that weekend and she knows full well that I’m struggling and, unlike her, I don’t live rent free with my parents who pay my bills. The other part was a consistent domination of conversation: if I brought up a topic she’d quickly interrupt me and rattle on and on and on; and the conversation would quickly turn to something that she was angry about: mostly people. If she didn’t talk over me to express anger over something, it was to tell me something along the lines of her speaking several languages or that she’s a descendant of the Romanovs. The last portion is her need to make herself seem so important to others . . . and also her love of drinking. This is not a person I care to have in my life. I’m trying to figure out a way to phase her out. While the mature thing is to have a conversation with her, I’m simply done with exerting energy of any form into this friendship and I’m done with explaining myself.

I no longer have the patience for this.

Another friendship began with an agreement to support one another through the difficult times. I had done my best to prop him up, particularly when my life was in a state of chaos. When he asked how I was doing and I honestly told him, he all but vanished from my life. It’s the feeling of abandonment that upsets me; it’s also the feeling of being used.

A good friend who has known me for many years, particularly through one of the harder times in my life as a young teenager, said something in one of our online exchanges that resonated with me. She said I was so used to having to take so much garbage from everyone else (because I had no choice in the matter) that I feel guilty when I ask, “What’s left for me?” I consider this friend to be a kindred spirit. In fact, as I define soul mates in a way that differs from the general consensus, I’d say she’s one of my soul mates. I think her observation was spot on. I feel undeserving most of the time which is probably why the slightest form of kindness almost always brings me to tears.

I think what's left for me is nature and the hound.

I made a promise to myself that this year would be better. I’m cutting off as much dead weight as I can. I’m still trying to find a new position. I’m still submitting applications and am now seriously considering looking outside of this organization. It’s a pity when I think about it, because all of this work-related nonsense was preventable. I’m cutting off ties with friends who use me for whatever resources they can take.

My energy is better spent making room for more genuine things in my life.

While I can’t cut off my emotions, I’m trying to find the best way to channel them. I don’t know if my best plan of attack right now is to dig deeper and see what other unresolved aspects of my life experience are surfacing on some subconscious level, or simply acknowledging that the anger is a real thing right now. 

I still have yet to find the 'hardest' thing in life. Unfortunately, I tend to take a match to things. 

Rebirth of the Heart's Desire

“The world has tilted far from the sun, from colour and juice . . .  I am waiting for a birth that will change everything.” – Hilary Llewellyn-Williams, The Tree Calendar

I welcomed the coming of the Solstice because it brought with it the rebirth of light.

How many times since childhood have we pondered our heart’s desire? I barely grasped the notion of giving and granting when I was a young girl, listening to the tales of folk and fairies that were told to me by a mother figure (one of a few). My early experiences caused me to deny, struggle against, and doubt the desires of my own heart. As a woman, I rarely reflect upon it. The heart’s desire is whimsical or desperate ambition if we can suspend our adult disbelief. The true heart’s desire is an essential potentiality, a destiny sewn in our name, waiting to bloom and grow. What prevents us from achieving it? Our lives may be littered with unresolved and undeveloped hopes, all blocking the way to our true heart’s desire. If we are to achieve the core of our wish, we must first dismantle and rescind our immature wishes. We cancel those immature wants by calling them back and revoking them, along with any other idle wishes we may have uttered and since forgotten. Then the way stands clear. If we commune deeply with your true heart’s desire, rather than upon our fantasies, if we can envision it with every cell of our body and call to it, then we send a true song to make the pathway between ourselves and our heart’s desire.

I don't even recognize the sound of her voice anymore. The Wild Woman exists in there somewhere. I just need to hear her sound.

During the darkest time of the year, we are waiting for a rebirth. The rebirth of light – the blessed solstice; it all gets brighter from here.  What is it that waits to be born in us this time of year? It is a glorious, heroic light that blazes forth with the fierce directness of an innocence that we need now. It is a deep renewal in our lives that we crave; it is the rebirth of innate qualities that will not fail or become slothful or deterred by obstacles, that will be responsible and true, honest and enduring, bright and shining.

I feel as though I’ve been fighting to get back to my core, to the essence of who I am. I've been fighting my way towards the light not realizing that the light is actually meeting me where I am. It’s time to stop struggling. It’s time to stop giving and to spend time reflection on what exactly it is that I want and need out of life. I’ve lost sight of it entirely, particularly over this last year. It’s not necessarily that too much happened, just too much at once for me to entirely process at any given time; and the instances of ‘too manies’ were frequent with little breathing room in between. My biggest hope for the coming new year is a long stretch of a boring, mundane life. That would be lovely.

Perhaps my biggest pet peeve in question form is this: What are you looking for?  For the record, this is one of the many reasons I’m banned from online dating because that question makes me want to throw punches as a fly into a rage and shout, “No! What are you looking for, asshole?!” I think the root of my anger is this: I don’t like feeling exposed or vulnerable and I’d wager that no one does if every single person were being blatantly honest. The question of what I’m looking for is vexing because it demands a form of transparency that is rarely reciprocated. I don’t want to feel picked apart anymore, as if I’m under the lens of someone else’s microscope. They can take that 1000X objective lens and shove it up their arse.

I don’t like being read, I don’t like someone constantly reading every single micro expression on my face and trying to interpret those expressions to form some agenda that meets the needs of the other whether it be an attempt to get me in bed or use me as the physical embodiment of every person that’s ever harmed you in some personal way.

If I’m not misinterpreting my interactions with another person in my life, this happened to me recently – both the constant reading of facial expressions and the projection of ‘Her’ and her deeds that had wronged him were my fault. At least that’s how it felt. He badgered me into admitting something I would have never told him. When I expressed my need for space and being upset over feeling so vulnerable, I was met with anger. I think most of that was misdirected. Of course I understand the desire for transparency in others – yet I think boundaries can still stand and not every single thing must be laid bare and forced open. I am transparent about most things, but I often draw a line in the sand when it pertains to my emotions. When I’m ready to share those feelings I’ll gladly do so, but not before I’m ready. Provoking me only causes me to feel hurt and cracked open.

Some things are mine and mine alone - particularly when it comes to my emotions.

While I’d hoped that nothing would change after that encounter, I can’t say that it hasn’t. I have changed. If nothing else, the conversation was one that expedited the process to my own realization that I need space and I need to spend more time fostering the healthier relationships in life rather than the ones that have potential to be the ruin of all parties involved.  While we certainly have similar characteristics and goals, the potential for ruin outweighs all of the former.

Maybe I'm only speaking from my own vulnerability when I say it feels like there's only ashes now.

I find myself facing a recurring theme that’s practically turned into my mantra this year: spend time with myself. Retreat, rejuvenate, and restore the balance so I can feel whole again. When I spend most of my days constantly reassuring others, constantly pouring positivity into them, I eventually feel as though I’m in autopilot and I have no idea who’s at the helm anymore. I can only say with certainty that it’s not me. I want to tap back into what I’ve lost – not just the feeling of happiness, but also the barely-scraping-the-surface kind of knowledge of the collective consciousness. I’ve been empty for so long. It would be lovely if someone would come along right about now and do what I’ve been doing for others for so long. In the end, I acknowledge that I can only rely on myself and I have to learn to achieve it on my own.

It all comes down to this: Know thyself. 

“Pick it up, pick it all up and start again. You’ve got a second chance, you could go home; escape it all. It’s just irrelevant. You could still be what you want to be, what you said you were when I met you. You’ve got a warm heart. You’ve got a beautiful brain. But it’s disintegrating from all the medicine . . . . You could still be what you want to be, what you said you were when you met me.” Daughter, Medicine

Online Dating: A Perspective From The Irish Lass

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." - Rumi

I tried my hand at online dating. I decided I was ready for something wonderful and genuine and thought actively pursuing it was an excellent idea. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea and this has turned into one of the experiences in life that I've looked back on and asked myself, "What the hell was I thinking?!"

I went the wrong way at the crossroads. 

I developed my online profile as something sweet and simple with a generalization about my life and interests. My photos were flattering, tactful, and not provocative in any way, shape or form. No cleavage, no sultry poses; just a lot of smiling and a few photos of the hound. 

My inbox blew up. It was overwhelming when I'd log in every other day or so and have 50+ messages to sift through. I was beginning to turn into a shallow person. I started deleting messages without reading them because I couldn't possibly read all of that (and some of them were sickening, anyway). Anyone that looked like someone I wouldn't be friends with in real life was ignored. Pity. 

I ignored the shallow people and became one myself. 

I initially thought the process was brilliant because it allowed me to sift through men that came across as creepy, said inappropriate things, or were just too pushy. Why would I want to give you my number after an exchange of five messages?! I've never met you. I don't want to text you and I don't want you calling me, either. 

There's something wrong with my generation. We're all in a rush to the finish line. We want to connect. We want to love; but we don't want to make ourselves vulnerable. My own observation is that we're hungry for a genuine connection with someone, but still remain isolated and lonely. One of the major contributing factors is the veneer, the facade, the veil and all of the emotional barriers we put up in self defense. The internet perpetuates this problem. 

I see it more often than I'd like. A photo of some random and unsuspecting person goes viral and the rest of the world rips the person apart for being (by societal standards) unattractive, obese, fake, and my personal favorites: slut and whore. Because we're not stairng someone directly in the face there is no filter and the most judgmental, condescending and hateful words are spewed into the cyber world. Just because it can be done; just because we have something to hide behind so we feel emboldened to say whatever we want to knock someone down only to make ourselves feel better about our own insecurities and mundane lives. What the hell is wrong with us?! 

Either grow a pair or be kind to others. That's all I have to say. 

Considering that this trait seems to be tailored to my generation specifically, I've come across a lot of unfiltered words. The men with whom I've exchanged dialogue thus far don't handle rejection well. I've been called a snob, someone with major wounds to heal because I wasn't interested in sex, a flake, a bitch and someone deserving of rape because I have a bad attitude. I feel as if I've been introduced to the worst side of humanity and it was beginning to make me a very jaded person. I don't want that for myself. 

It's not just the harshness and cruelty; it's the misrepresentation of oneself and a blatant disregard for the feelings of another human being. I still can't wrap my mind around how we've evolved to be this way. 

Oh yes . . . crying because I felt unlovable, flawed and wondered what the hell was wrong with me. The answer? Nothing. Nothing at all. 

I eventually dreaded even checking my inbox, so I shut it down. I'd rather keep my sanity, thanks. A friend asked me last night why I don't just meet someone the old fashioned way. Does that even happen anymore?! So . . . meet someone at work? Granted, it's a very large organization, but I'm generally running from one thing to the next and don't have time to look into the dating field while I'm working. It just strikes me as wrong and a bad idea. 

The other option would be tango. There are currently a few issues with that. I won't be able to afford those outings for a while because money is too tight and that's what happens when one moves twice in less than 6 months and puts her dog first (he will always come first). My current hours don't really allow for me to have much of a night life because I have to be up so early. Lastly, I don't want to be a part of the polyamorous sect. That's just not in me. I'm not saying every tango dancer lives that kind of life, but I do know it's prevalent in a few crowds and I want no part of it. 

Polyandry aside, tango is pretty awesome. I look forward to returning when I can. 

It's even been suggested that I look for someone with money. I sincerely hope they were joking. In fact, I've even had a few propositions along those lines when I was a bombshell in my early 20's. For the love of all that is sacred and holy, that is the most shallow bullsh*t I've ever heard. I know people do it. I can't. I'd resent the guy. I'd resent myself. I'd personally rather live in a van down by the river, or under a bridge, or pitch a tent or something. I won't be bought or owned. 

Where do these people come from?

The darker side of humanity I've witnessed lately hasn't just been in the dating world, either. I purchased a dog house off of craigslist. I had no means to pick it up and the guy was kind enough to deliver it for me. Over e-mail exchanges he sent me boudoir photos. I'm no longer thinking that was an accident. I've been trying to pin him down to pay him and he only responds with e-mails about him being in the hot tub and sipping wine. Just let me pay you, guy!! I'll admit I'm slightly concerned because he knows where I live. What creeps me out is that he's never met me in person because I wasn't at home when the dog house was delivers. The only photo he's seen of me is on my gmail profile . . . and I'm wearing Minnie Mouse ears and huge cat like sunglasses. There is nothing provocative about that photo. 

I've been asking myself lately what the hell is wrong with the world and why everything in my life is broken, chaotic, or bizarre. I've been hearing a lot about Mercury in retrograde. Mercury is wrecking my life!! I was out with friends last night and one of them told me (regarding my recent interactions with the male population) it's just because I'm young and beautiful. I thanked him for the compliment and he laughed over my dread of turning 30. I know I'm not seeing the bigger picture right now. I know I shouldn't be so harsh on myself. I have to go back to repeating my mantras of saying positive things about me until I believe them. 

My therapist has some good insight on this recurring phenomenon in my life: I'm too trusting and there's something about the type of trauma I've experienced that is buried deep in my unconscious on a level that I'm not aware. It's like a freaking radar to others who have experienced harsh blows in life. Unfortunately, these just happen to be people that aren't trying to deal with their issues and instead project them on others. 

I'm gradually getting back into my ritualistic form of spirituality. I finally put my alter together last night. Falling asleep to my candles burning was comforting and being back in nature on a regular basis is soothing. Making room in my studio apartment for belly dancing is my next task. I'm still semi-living out of boxes. I still can't find things. It's still chaotic, but I'm beginning to feel a sense of peace; and I'm reminding myself I'm exactly where I should be. 

Playing with scarves and glittery things?! You betcha. I'll move like no one is watching (because no one will be watching - this is mine). 

He's Really Not Into You

“Don’t spend your time on and give your heart to any guy who makes you wonder about anything related to his feelings for you.” – Greg Behrendt, He’s Just Not That Into You

So I’ve been doing the dating thing for a little over a month now. It feels like a freaking full-time job, and an unpleasant and exhausting one at that. I keep telling myself someone will make this all worth it eventually.

I had previously mentioned my involvement with my neighbor and how fond I had grown of him and his little girl. He had been increasingly distant in the weeks that followed that post. I don’t pretend to know why.  Then came the dreaded words: It’s not you, it’s me. Oh. My. God. He refused to offer any other explanation. Ouch. I thought that was a line that was conjured up in middle school when we simply grew tired of the other person and wanted to move on. And the little girl – I’ve seen her once since then, just last night. She was looking for her cat. There wasn’t an excited greeting or hug.  She looked at me like she didn’t even know me. I felt like a dagger had been thrown at the center of my chest. I’ve missed her. I don’t know what her father has told her – I don’t even know if this is a common occurrence in this young girl’s life – I just know that life feels emptier without her.

I suspect this is what he really meant, but was just too cowardly to have a face to face discussion with me.

I’m angry because I feel like my neighbor used her as a pawn to get my attention and I’m hurt because I know she won’t be a part of my life anymore, and I had no choice in the matter. It’s not really him that I was attached to, it was her. I miss the impromptu playdates, dance offs, and bows. I miss her excitement when she saw me come home in the afternoon and the immediate hugs. That’s just not my life anymore.

She literally had my heart the second she put her tiny hand in mine. 

So I move on because I don’t want to waste my energy on crying over it. There’s nothing I can do to change it . . . .  and once the waterworks start they just won’t stop. For now I’m telling myself to be grateful that it happened sooner than later. He showed his true colors and I didn’t become more enmeshed in her life. That would have devastated me.

I’ve moved on to other distractions. I’m still biking on a regular basis. That’s proven to be a good thing for me. I feel invigorated when I get to work and at the end of the day anything that bothered me is gone because I’ve exerted every last ounce of frustrated, angry energy on bike pedaling. I’m getting stronger, too – it’s worth it.

Channel the rage, Lass. It will go away eventually. 

Life has blessed me with some truly wonderful people. I’ve mentioned my tango friend before – the one who encourages me to get out because he knows I have a tendency to draw into myself. While it’s tempting to do that, I know it’s not healthy, and I’m grateful to have the luxury of knowing someone is in my corner and looking out for my best interests.

 Last week my friend convinced me to play volleyball with a handful of other dancers. It’s been a blast. They call it ‘laughter therapy’. That’s an accurate description. I think ‘rage therapy’ works as well. I had no idea that I was so competitive until I started playing with them – and volleyball is something I haven’t done in over a decade. I never have a voice the entire day afterwards because I spend my entire time yelling at my opponents, hurling insults and cursing in general. My only complaint is that I’ve somehow managed to jam my toe two weeks in a row and today in particular it hurts quite a bit . . . . but I work at a hospital, so I’ve got my bases covered. J

We mean business. 

The online dating saga continues. I made up my mind after my experience with my neighbor that I am so done with older men. Seriously. If he’s more than ten years my senior I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Does this prevent older men from contacting me? Absolutely not. I had someone sending me messages in his 50s. Why?! When he asked me to meet him for drinks I asked him what his intentions were and made it openly known that I was not interested in being someone’s plaything. He responded that it was obvious that I have wounds to heal and he does not . . . . Dude, I think the fact that you’re trying to get in the pants of someone less than half your age speaks volumes about your issues.

Sure I have issues. At least I am honest about them and don't deflect mine to the rest of the world.

I’ve met a handful of guys in person. One really was a pleasant surprise. I’m not sure if we’re a good match, but he did not bore me to hell and back like I initially thought he would . . . and I also turned out to not be the stuck up snob he thought I might be. Our conversation went something like this, “You carry weapons? Me, too! Let’s see if we fight to the death!” I exaggerated that a bit. We just had more in common than I thought. I also very much appreciate that he has respected my statement that I need patience. I don’t warm up to people right away. He doesn’t go for a hug unless I offer. Bonus points for you, guy.

I draw a pretty clear line in the sand. Anyone who tries to blur my boundaries gets nixed. Just don't do it!

On the flip side, there’s the touchy feely types and excessively clingy and needy in general. One bragged about his stellar kissing abilities . . . . . and then he tried to lick my damn face off and plunge his tongue down my throat. My face felt like a toilet. I’m also wary of men who claim that we share a strong connection when I sure as hell don’t feel it and men that use pet names like ‘sweet baby’, ‘darling’, ‘sugar’ or anything along those lines without being a close friend makes me feel like throwing punches. It takes me a while to retract my talons and I really have no rhyme or reason as to why that gets under my skin, I only know that it does. Lastly, there was the guy that seemed genuinely surprised that I actually looked like my photos and yet spent the entire time checking out every other female that walked past him. What the hell? 

A walk in the park with the hound. He was pretty much doing this the whole time. He's just not that into you!  He did ask me out to dinner today. I told him I just don't feel a connection - because there obviously isn't one.

On more than one occasion I’ve been asked what I’m looking for. It took me a while to put it in words, but I think it’s something along these lines: I’d like to find someone to share life with, but I don’t want him to be my life – and I don’t want to be his, either. Maybe our paths will blend more as time goes on and we find similar interests and things we enjoy doing together. I don’t want someone to waltz in and completely unhinge my life by taking me away from things that are meaningful to me and try to mold me into something I’m not. He has to adore my dog because I adore my dog. He needs to be patient with me because I have a tendency to be skittish and can feel like a caged animal if he moves too fast for my comfort zone. I need to take my time to get to know him.

I'm also playing for keeps. I'd like to get it right this time.

What amazes me about my stance on dating is that most men are surprised by my answer. It’s as if they’re expecting me to say I’m looking for my soul mate, I am looking for the ‘one’ to make my life complete, yadda, yadda, yadda. Have we become a society of parasite that feed off of one another because we’re so starved for attention and insecure in our own lives? Heavens! That’s why I took a break from dating in the first place. I needed to be comfortable with who I am and where I am in life. I needed to learn to love myself. I needed to learn to quit attracting the wrong kind of person into my life.

There are a couple of men who have caught my eye. I have yet to meet them in person . . . . and I’m really in no rush, either. I’m mostly looking forward to a summer of biking, dancing, volleyball and the hound. These are happy things for me and life feels complete as it is. 

I'll always be evolving, but that doesn't change my sense of fulfillment. 

Shelter From the Storm

“Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.” – St. Francis de Sales

This last month has been stressful and chaotic. I had pushed myself so hard while still following through with most of my commitments that I drove myself to sickness. I also had people comment on how calm I was. I internally laughed at them. I certainly didn’t feel calm; and now that most of those stressful events and commitments have passed I find myself feeling and reacting like someone in a heightened state of agitation. I’ve been here a million times before.

So what’s the Irish Lass to do? I read an article on grounding techniques. A suggestion was to ask oneself, ‘Am I breathing?’ I ask myself this question several times a day and instantly feel myself connected back to reality as I sense myself breathing. Then I remind myself that I’m here. I’m okay. I’m calm. There is no threat here. Keep breathing.

A deep inhale to remind me . . . . 

I still intend to drop off the radar for a couple weeks in the near future. I’m just too tired and worn out to deal with anything, really. I’m still going because I have to – but I really need to take a ‘staycation’ in the near future. The effect of so much stress is pretty obvious right now. I’m forgetful and even though I hide it extremely well I feel like going for the jugular of about half the people I interact with throughout my day. I lack patience for others and I think every minor thing that I don’t know how to solve immediately is a disaster of epic proportions. Just keep breathing.

The sky isn't falling. I can breathe now. 

I have people in my life that keep me grounded as well, the main one being Spaniard. While his tactics are questionable, it’s working. I danced tango after a few days of him making me tell him I’m beautiful, I’m loved, I’m amazing, etc. The end result was something far better than I had expected: I was calm when I danced. I was so calm that others noticed and asked me who I was studying under to help me improve so much. I wouldn’t say that there was really any improvement, only that I was able to quiet my mind enough to actually listen to what my lead was signaling. The reptilian part of my brain actually shut off for a while. Word.

Beautiful tango. I've missed you. 

As Spaniard tells me often, ’Don’t disparage yourself and NEVER disparage yourself in front of me.’ I made the mistake of berating myself for something. He literally popped me on the mouth for speaking negatively towards myself. As he’s lead me through his methods of madness at least I’ve learned to question what I say and eventually question what I’m thinking, particularly when it comes to me. I have had the lowest self-esteem for a while now. Spaniard won’t let me continue to live life with that.  I guess to get over that hurdle someone had to force me to do it. I’m not completely over it yet, but I’m getting there. Heck, maybe I’ll be ready to take off my buffer ring sooner than I expected. For now, it’s still my security blanket . . .  and I’m still breathing.

I've been getting so many compliments on this bad boy lately. 

Then there’s my brother who often talks me out of crises mode. He tells me not to worry. Everything will be fine. I’m not alone. While we’ve developed our own language of affection that consists of trash talking each other, we do so in jest and he’s far better at it than me. When I was sick last week he sent me a text saying he tried to poison me and needed to send it back for a refund. He makes me laugh randomly and reminds me that I don’t have to be so serious and so intense all of the time. The hound reminds me to calm down, too. I see him when I’ve had a long day and am worried about several things simultaneously and tell myself that I need to stay calm for him. I have to recognize that I need to be calm for me, too.

This would have been us in our younger years.

What I would love more than anything in the world right now is to snuggle up next to someone and just be for a few hours. There’s no significant other in the picture, so what’s the next best solution? TANGO!!! I’ve missed a couple of weeks and consequently have missed its therapeutic qualities. I miss the folks that I see on a regular basis and my handful of favorite leads who I adore because they are kind and good people.

I need to get back to this passionate form of dance! Also, her dress looks like mine . . . . and I still can't dance like this. Just in case you were wondering.

I’m tempted to say that I feel like the eye of the storm is coming –but that suggests more chaos and nonsense. Instead I’ll tell myself that the storm is passing and I don’t see another one looming in the horizon. My reptilian brain and shut off for a while because I don’t need it. I’m not fighting for survival, I’m living.

Blue skies are on the horizon. I miss nature, too. I need to fix that.

“The language of excitement is at best picturesque merely. You must be calm before you can utter oracles.” – Henry David Thoreau

Villians

“You learn eventually that, while there are no villains, there are no heroes either. And until you make the final discovery that there are only human beings, who are therefore all the more fascinating, you are liable to miss something.” – Paul Gallico

I've found most villains to be quite amusing.

My most recent ex told me that I villainize others in my writing. Perhaps there’s truth to that; the only perspective that I can offer is my own. What I can say is this: our perception is our reality. If we choose to interpret the actions of others as malicious, if we choose to interpret their behavior as ill intended, that is our reality. What I have given thus far is my own account, my own feelings, my own perception.

I’m disappointed that it didn’t work out. I wanted it to, I really did. I wanted him to be many things. I wanted us to be many things. The reality is this, we are really two people who need the same thing in life: grounding. The harsh truth is that ultimately neither of us could offer that to one another.

There's only so much we can do or give for one another. We can either accept the other as perfectly flawed, or move on when we can't see past those flaws. 

I’m not saying he’s a bad person. I’m saying we’re bad for each other. I caught a glimpse of that when we spent a weekend out of town together. I had to process everything that had occurred over that weekend. I asked for space. I needed space. Three days into the space that I asked for, he called it off. Today he hinted at wanting to get back together. I think that would be a stupid move on my part and bad news for both of us.

If both feel the other has consistently wronged them, it’s just not a good thing. He was there for me through some tough times, and his words also made some of those times really tough on me. I had to consider what was bad for me and what was good. Ultimately, the bad outweighed the good. This isn’t a dig into his character or essence as a person, that’s just how it was.

Whether or not it hinges on the fact that I'm Libra, I need balance. I need fairness. I need for things to be well-rounded and sound.

Today in particular I’ve been called many things: coward, flawed, and while not implicitly stated, mentally unstable. I’ll admit it hurts, particularly from someone I trusted and who meant a good deal to me. What I can say is this, I honestly don’t feel I’m to blame. I’m not saying he’s to blame, either – I just refuse to allow someone to make me feel at fault. Life doesn’t always play out as we’d hoped or intended. It’s full of surprises, twists, turns, setbacks and leaps forward. That’s part of the beauty of living.

Go fly a kite. Literally . . . because it's loads of fun.

I can say with all honesty I never envisioned myself to be where I am in life right now. It’s not where I intended to be, but it’s where I am. I’m gradually getting closer to the life I had hoped for. Sometimes I experience setbacks that feel so enormous and discouraging that I just want to wave a white flag and surrender. However, the worry, anxiety and stress poured into those scenarios really doesn’t do me any good. It’s wasted energy, really. Despite another setback to achieving my personal goals, I’m trying to glean the better parts of my current life. I won’t achieve independence as soon as I’d hoped. I’m disappointed, but I won’t be consumed with regret or even think about pointing a finger at anyone else but me.

For now, I think I have more than most could have hoped for. I have an amazing support network. It wasn’t something that’s just been handed over to me, it’s something that has been built over time and includes people who choose to see the best in me. Those are the types of people that I want to keep close to me. I have tango. There is no greater bliss in this world. I have a basset hound. There is no greater example of one who loves unconditionally and without expectation (with the exception of walks) than a dog. These are things that bring me joy in life help me get through some of the darker times life brings. They hold me gently and carry me back into the light when I can’t get there myself.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” – Oscar Wilde

Touch Wood. Touch Gold.

“Selflessness is humility . . . humility and freedom go hand in hand. Only a humble person can be free.” ~ Jeff Wilson

Of the many things I admire and respect about Pavarthi and Vijay is their humility. They have accomplished and overcome so many things in their lives, yet one wouldn’t ever know it because they simply don’t talk about it . . . unless they’re talking about one another. It is obvious they admire one another a great deal. I challenge anyone to watch them and not smile. I think this task is impossible.

Vijay worked for NASA and was a pioneer in the development of vehicle airbags and solar energy panels. Pavarthi has done extensive research on DNA repair (among many other things) and is at long last organizing her data for submission. Her research was put on hold for some time when she was ill and on the brink of death. She survived and believes she is a better person for it. Vijay also nearly faced death once; I don’t know much about his experience.

In the face of such adversity, Vijay and Pavarthi have not only survived, but radiate a loving kindness to anyone who may cross their path.

After dinner – when I was stuffed to the brim and hardly able to walk – I drove them home and we chatted over a glass of wine. Pavarthi immediately presented a plate of cookies and Vijay chided her. My immediate reaction was to laugh at the entire scenario: here we are from two very different cultures. Out of custom and stellar hostess skills, Pavarthi continued to present me with food. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted until I could no longer consume one more morsel. Now I was convinced that she was attempting to lure me into a food comma from which I would never wake.

Can't . . . Move.

I attended a Buddhist church once many years ago. One of the sermons stood out to me in a very profound way: the speaker compared humanity to a vine of pumpkins – we are individual, yet connected – therefore when one suffers, we all do and when one rejoices, we all share in that as well. I’ve always thought this is a beautiful concept. Vijay gave me yet another viewpoint of this concept. He spoke of an invisible line that connects us all and when I think of another and smile, this is how we are connected and this is the friendship we share.

Pavarthi and Vijay showed me breathing exercises to help me circulate more oxygen and endorphins into my brain. I always feel rejuvenated when I do them and am finding they fit in nicely when I light one of my candles at night.

I have struggled a good deal lately with my sense of self worth and there are many reasons and events tied into this. Pavarthi and Vijay made a point of telling me how impressive and wonderful I am. They told me of a teacher in India whom they worked with for many years and his message was this, “Love ever and hurt never.” First, never hurt yourself; then learn not to hurt others. I am working on loving myself. I find it very difficult at times when I feel so alone, but then I think of the pumpkins on the vine and invisible line and smile to myself.

I think Universe and the Divine work in ways I could never possibly understand. I had been hurting for such a long time and then I met Pavarthi and Vijay who have emitted such a comforting and radiant light into my life. My only regret is that I hadn’t met them sooner. They will be heading off for a road trip soon before they return to India. They have declared themselves my godparents. Yay! I’ve never had godparents.  

I was recently gifted a very large container of Mocha Rocha and instructed to consume every calorie and not share with anyone. Of course, the givers of such a delicacy were Vijay and Pavarthi with a very touching note attached that says, ‘Sweet Mocha Rocha for Sweet Ava’.

Pavarthi tells me that one of her prayers for me is to get married and have children. I smiled as she revealed this; I’ve secretly always wanted to be a soccer mom. On our last encounter, Pavarthi wagged her finger at me and said, “You will come to Bangalor!’ Yes, Love, I will. Touch wood. Touch Gold. May it be so. Namaste. 

My godparents and me. I miss you already. 

“Your task is not to seek for Love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” 
~ Rumi