Humanity

Fluttergaze and a shotgun.

i spent the weekend with an infant and i watched him gaze and then look away and then go back to gazing…

and i do that, all the time… so much the gaze, the introspection, the focus … The Startle:  then i can’t handle it and need to withdraw in a figurative bubble to repair.  its as if the study and gaze of mine has rent me.

do you know that language? its how it feels.

and so after a wonderful weekend and a reunion with my man, i’m just barely able to get out of bed.

and i do not dig it.

and the world is rushing in to my bubble and i feel vulnerable to all the things.

i do not dig.

i look back at my most recent journaling and it tells me what i know is necessary. practice. receiving. practice.

like get down on your knees and practice. literally do something uncomfortable, completely force the boundaries to stretch, make yourself sick with the twist, get down on your knees and open up that cracked up walnut chest and just sit there, exposed. because that is the practice that I have to do these days.  I don’t know what is coming, and I still have to do it and I don’t really know if I can, if I can brave that particular chill.

i’ve felt this call before and brushed it off. this need to immerse, to peel off the skin… to bulletize… to turn myself insides out. . . i’m not sure that brushing it off is serving me anymore and i’m intimidated .

and i’m still laughing, and able to laugh even while inviting new guy to watch kids baseball games and expose us to publicity of a sort… – – – i did that.

and i still feel like i need to take all my clothes off and walk into the blizzard.

what is this?

tell me. Unwifedmotherexpletive collage page Just Observe

 

 

 

Humanity

Red. and its a Full Moon, baby.

 

There is a lot of red in my life. and candy. and toys. and christmas still lingers. (will, all year.) and red, in the language of chakras… tells us to get down and dirty with your roots.  look at your stories, your family and what earths you, and unearths you. grab onto your precious self and dig deep.

Unwifedmotherexpletive gift tin says Know You Want It.

Did i mention it was a FULL MOON? Time to see whats working, what you need to shift, and what you can let go. . .

Humanity

insane in the membrane. (sorry cypress hill)

so, i’ve met a guy. another one.  not my type. want to know why? i think he’s just like me.

and so there is some work for me to do and i’m in a vulnerability hangover every time i think about it. 0408191821

sheesh. have to go take meds. forgot again. hold on.

kay. but thats not the reason for the vulnerability hangover. listen, this is how it goes.

‘you can’t keep putting me first, thats not good for you’. me to he. ‘but thats how i am, i need to know you so i can be what you need me to be, for you’ he to me.

BUT THATS CRAZY!!! me to he.

we? agree to disagree.

the problem here is that he is saying things i’ve said, how i lived for a long time, and why in the end, marriage couldn’t be worked out for me.  I’m not saying i was a slavish wife and only served my man.

i wasn’t. i began to have children, i’ve always had a personality, i’ve always had needs…but it begins with who gets up for the babies, doesn’t it…for me it did.  who’s life is too important to be turned upside down?

i never was able to articulate what my needs were. and part of that was that everyone else went first.   and now… i am being forced to practice, because i’m staring in a mirror all the time.

who gets fed first at your house?

sigh.

i know thats a multifaceted question, and practicality and all, but really… its that dangling emergency oxygen….

and i swear, i’d die while offering it to others. just plumb up and die.

chew on that.

 

 

 

 

Humanity

Discovery of self-worth. Eureka?

SO my hatred of The Magicians has passed. I mean, how can i actually ‘hate’ anything make-believe? its just silly speak and i’m moving on . . . see? the meds are with me.

cop-outs are everywhere.

and self-deprecation is the tool of the TRUE GODS AND GODDESSES… if only we weren’t so good at deflection, you’d be blinded.

(read that one slowly.)

and no, i haven’t lost my grip on humility.  not even momentarily, sadly. (had to look up how to spell Eureka, for fucksake)

i do have moments when i can say good things about myself, i mean, i do.  and i do thank my ex for that, because i have real moments of self-value that come simply from being taken for granted, and its really powerful to really deeply feel how much you matter to the world you’ve created.  the kids do the same for me. … when i have to demand that they speak to me a certain way, or that they ask for things rather than demand…its respect, and i deserve it… 0402192020a little bits and bobs…

took me awhile.

but also, last night, i actually WENT to the gym i signed up for. and i’m proud as anything that i made it.  because i was anxious about it for days.  nervous about what people would think, how weak i would look, how sweaty and fat i would be… all irrational, to a large degree.  its been awhile since i was fit, and i’m sad and a little embarassed by it. but i know i can get it back, i just have to put in the time, again, and make sure i do it for myself. utterly only? … which is nearly impossible for me. i definitely work better when i think there is some benefit that is broader than just myself.  in this case? kids… want to stay strong and fit as a role model of strong fit woman for the kids…

but then it makes you think about the things you do overcome… and big and little and what pride you have in accomplishing things…

i’m running my household, i am truly the head of the household. always was, but didn’t know.

i’m figuring out how to value the simple way i move in the world.  i’m not spending tons of time chastising myself for my hit and run socializing.  i just get all frazzled after 15 minutes and have to run away. thats it… its not a huge statement about what an asshole loser i am.

i do wish i could spend more time, sometimes, but listening is just so damn hard, 15 minutes is about my limit. and i love people, even if they don’t know i do.

and thats another thing i value about myself.  i love people, even if they don’t know i do. how cool is that?

anyhow. its a beginning. make your own lists, babes.

Humanity

i should really title you. . .

tell me about this, someone please?

so, i read this book awhile back and it made me mad. it made me so mad. it moved slowly, i hated (detested) the characters, and nothing ever happened in it that made me feel better about it. and i read all the way to the end wanting something good to be there. but no.

then they made a tv show of it. and i said, HAIL NO. and then people kept reccomending it to me and then someone said it was way better than the book and then i had another night of being at loose ends and watching tv to numb myself.

so i tried it. Guess what?

HATED IT. DETEST THE CHARACTERS. HATE IT.

okay,so there are several things going on here, to start before we even get into what makes me so full of rage at this show.

  1. Why am i so goddamn hopeful? it must have reached prescribable levels by now.  what the hell is this pollyanna crap? why did i read the whole book? why did i try the show? why was i so unhappy for so many days but woke up hopeful each day at some point and stayed married?
  2. There is magic in this show. and they never use it for delight. its always for some personal gain or to trick someone or to hurt someone else and if there is delight, it is incidental…there is no thrill and exhileration and no harry fucking potter and I WANT TO KNOW WHY THEY ARE WASTING IT!
  3. There is a lot of privilege in the show. A lot. Its a class thing, i’m sure the show producers mixed up color and culture as best they could (still lame) but its money here. Kids who smoke and drink all day like they are not kids, but old drunks and country club ladies. . they think they rebel but end up just like the parents they despise.  Too much Breakfast Club Claire.  these characters hold no humor for me, only rage. The privilege of wasting your life. THE WASTE! OH MY GOD, THE WASTE!!sigh.  the show? The Magicians.

 

if you like it, could you please tell me why? and stop me from trying to watch it again? because of the pervasive hope that i’m wrong thing?

please?