Archive for the ‘room to grow’ Category

“Can’t give up actin’ tough,
it’s all that I’m made of.
Can’t scrape together quite enough
to ride the bus to the outskirts
of the fact that I need love.”

~Neko Case ‘Middle Cyclone’

I think w all need love. To feel it, to think we feel it, or something like it. To be cared for, of, to, all of those. We desire. We are terrified of it. I am. Indecisive, unsure that I can give enough to receive enough, afraid of giving to much. To much of me. To much of who I really am. Walls are not meant to be broken, but if we never break them, we may never know if the grass could be greener on the other side. We may never know much, but we will know what we avoided.

I avoid so much. I avoid me. I avoid the confrontation, of self, of others. I avoid. I am strong. I say I am. You would say I am. I am weak. I am no better or worse than anyone else. I hide from pain, from fear, from  choice, from the unknown. I hide. I cower to the comfort of my own web, my safety net. I am safe here. I suffer no more or less than I must. I risk nothing more to you then if you were me.

But I risk everything with me. I risk it all. here. I risk me. if I risk me here, where else do I make myself vulnerable?

“come on sorrow take your own advice…hide under the bed, turn out the lights”

I am victim to no one but myself. I set the stage so often for my own frustration. There is no excuse. I permit the discrepancies that enable the frustration that I can attribute to know one other than me. From the outside in, I understand so well the consequences of my actions, my feelings, my being. From the inside out, I somehow fail to see them.

Daylight often betrays the realities of my mind, at least that is often the assumption that I make. The cool morning light rushes in and begs that I rethink, reconsider, reevaluate the overstimulation of the night barely passed. Refreshed and perplexed I recognize my ego and my faults, I see the strengths I know I have, and the courage I should carry. And in the soft dim light, while the world awakes recovered, and new again, I realize that there is so much more here than I often see. The ability to get tangled in the web of mental chaos, to create an artificial drama and spin my own tails can consume me. My mind, like that of a child will run in overdrive in and out of the maze that my subconscious creates.

Lately I have aimed to cool the rash flood of images and ideas that pepper my brain, that wreck me of myself and take from me that which I know to be true.

Lately, I am more me. I have calmed and cooled the reality of my own comfort. I have begun to fully settle back into my skin and my heart. I am for once, in a long time not a duality of self, but a self, a relatively complete entity that has come to accept and embrace the subtle changes I experience as not a loss of self, but a growth of self, not a change of person, and expansion of being. I am as much me, if not more, as I think I last was in high school, capable, confident, strong, dare I say invincible….  Full of light and strength, I have overcome the doubt of loss, and the struggle of parenthood identity, I have come to new place, a place that is a return to an old place. I place I feel good.

And I must say to those of you that have been a part of the process thank you – for the space, the time, the encouragement and the experiences, thank you.

I am not perfect, I am not always thrilled by day, I am not always confident. But I am comfortable in my own skin, a felling I lost in drugs, pregnancy, abuse. That sense of total insecurity is gone. And  it is enlightening, enabling, empowering.

To you who let me, showed me, cared for me , allowed me, thank you.

There is no means by which I understand some of these relationships to be more or less than what they are or were, there are not always labels or explanations, and upon those that remain I place no expectations; but I will take them for what they are, enjoy them while I have them, and thank you for the chance to explore myself through you.

it’s real here, honest. I can not recreate this moment, these thoughts. maybe I am too real, too different, too much. Maybe I am me.  it is here lost in amber floods of desire; and  I can not comprehend who I am to you, to me, who i am. What does ‘I” mean, are we willing to be “I”, am i willing enough to forgo the self that is not accepted to the crowds and be that which I am. I am lost. I am confused. I am a star. I am looking for robin hood in the mountains and canyons of stories told and untold. I am a loner. I am lonely. I am the other me I need to be. I have no one to inspire. I have no one to share the breeze, infinite and internal. I am. I am not the me I should be, because I am scared to be. I am as much the me you let me be, as you are the you I let you be. But there is more. There is more. There is what is reserved, what is hidden, what is not available. Not because it is unavailable, but because we are afraid. Me as much as anyone. I will hide me until, just as you will hide you until. we are all hidden beneath ourselves, beneath what we are willing to be, to expose, to risk. I risk more here.

I left this weekend elevated to a grand degree. I was brought forth in conversation and in play to a familiar awareness of  myself. And yet, the higher the euphoria, the harder the reality.

So, I rape my sanity with the cold morning run, I allow my head to hurt my heart and my heart to hurt my head. I ponder the choices I have made, and the ones I need to. I blindly run. I need not pay attention, my body is trained to the motion, to the course, to the distance. I can give myself up to everything or nothing in this state. Silence is my friend and my enemy depending on the day .

Today I realized I am scared.

Thank you weekend for your wonders and fun, damn you weekend for making my realities fore front.

It is peculiar I think that there are these moments, these tiny bits of time; and in them we find all we could want for that moment, and for any moment really. We in those instances are fully satisfied. Whole, happy, engaged and secure. Yet, the time after those, especially the time alone, can be as troublesome to think about as it is amazing to remember. To remember a great moment is a luxury sometimes, to be able to hod it, to feel it, to know those you shared it with and how you felt during it. There is the dark side of it too. Sometimes the good is too much, too much to fast, or too much in general. Sometimes the good frightens us, only because if it means less then we thought, or more than we are ready for then it creates fear, it creates the idea that we want more…more happy moments, more fulfillment, more life; but to have more, you have to accept that there may be great pain in the process, that maybe where you find your moments now, will not be where you find them as time continues, or that where you find your moments now means you have to take a leap of faith to continue them.

I long for more, but I fear the consequences.

I long for late night conversations and coffee shop hours that entice me to participate, to think (though often influenced and not so clear, but honest) to create, the respond. I miss those days and nights. I miss so much… the struggle of the past four years has weighed heavy. I had at one point missed me. I think that hurdle is mostly climbed, and there are small steps I have recently made. But I remain skeptical of everything, everyone, of me. There are so many times I feel like I made a decision that I though was the best, and it backfired…to be fair maybe not so many…but one big one is enough to shake your confidence forever. I have built walls…created a routine existence for myself and allowed very few people into that, though many have let me in to theirs. I have created a persona, a person that everyone seems to know, yet I am sure few know anything.

I am admittedly scared, do I trust my head or my heart, can there be a balance?

I hope so. I suppose I aim to find out, to pinpoint my fears, and maybe approach them headstrong. Though again, admittedly, to see them all and to think of them all overwhelms me a bit, to consider so much change …

and yes I did just right about my need to accept my own change, that is a personal change, not the change that is forced by the aspects of society that I can not ultimately control, and yet they still weigh heavy .

Presently I sit surrounded by things I know, the comforts of home the stability and security I sought after all the chaos and turmoil. And yet, here amongst the large windows and stone fireplace, here on the porch with a home cooked meal, here in the neighborhood where kids and dogs run free…here I have everything and nothing. Here I am frustrated, in need of my own space, at odds with the disconnect of my environment. I need to move on, go forth and be independent; and somehow, I am afraid. Afraid of failing, not of the struggle, I am no stranger to the fight.

The fight to get through, the fight to finish. I have done it twice. I have completed my goals, achieved that which I wanted for the time. But I want more. sometimes I waiver on what more I want, deep down I know. And I have let fear creep in and deter me from my goals. At least sometimes I feel that way, I suppose in this instance, I have really had to accept the fact that I can not do it all at once. In fact, as I write, I realize that the decisions I have made recently have been well informed, logical and with a some displaced emotion; but all in all I can say that my heart and my head were in this together. I moved to regroup. To fix finances, to save for school. So I suppose I can not pin all my lack of motivation to read and write and apply on fear, but a bit on practicality. Though this practicality came from fear, a fear of failing in the process.

Then there is personal fear…how do you put yourself back out there after you have been hurt so bad, and when you still hurt. I am confident to say that my hurt is not that of a longing for someone, but the hurt of disappointment. Too often tears creep in, as I realize where I stand. Single…yes, but single  with strings….a four year old; and four years of struggle. Sometimes the situation gets to me. Frustrates me. Frightens me. Pains me. Sometimes. There is a level of acceptance after all this time, but growing up, my parents remained together. This is uncharted territory for me, and a space that it is hard to imagine anyone wanting to be in. I rarely let myself be exposed, and almost the minute I do I kick myself for it. Sometimes I don’t think I am strong enough to put myself out there, to bear the pain that is inevitable. And yet, I do it. I am hopeless I suppose, or gluten for punishment.

I try to avoid situations I think may be too much. But sometimes they find you. When and where you least expected, so far from your norm that you are caught off guard, loose balance, sometimes common sense. I suppose at this point the question is what to do when it happens? I have learned not to place expectations on any personal relationships, and I have learned that you can not change people, that we all change over time, and sometimes as a result of each other, but those that you let into your life you must accept as they are and who they are, regardless of their role in your life. The only expectations I have in life, are well, I suppose for a better life, and to be fair, I am not sure I can define that. I have no claim on real complaints at the moment; but an evolving life, more positive experiences, more adventures, more happy satisfying moments. And the only changes I can impose are those on myself, and often those are of a subtle nature, easy, and unavoidable.

I am me as I sit here. I am me as I change here. I am me, scared to move forward – to struggle, to fail, to hurt, I am me as make my choices, and tackle my future. I am me, maybe not always ready, but always willing to try. I am me and I know what I want, I am just not sure how to get it, or maybe I am….

I am afraid, are not we all. Afraid that what I want is not what is intended for me. Afraid of the wrong choice, the fall, the hurt, the pain. But if I remain afraid, if I can not be brave, be bold, be me, will I then miss out? I am of course of afraid of this too.

There is the me I know. There is the me I want to know. Then there is accepting the fact that as fast as I know me, I will surely change in some regard. These changes are constant, they are in a perpetual state of flux, and I must accept them if I am to be them, to be me, to move forward and onward. I must accept that there are people who will teach me, guide me and confuse me, hurt me and comfort me; and those people may be the most important I come across. Undoubtably  there is something to be said for being in the light of insight, the insight of others, and specifically the insight to strength and encouragement. I am not weak. But I am quite shy, scared maybe. Truly though, are not we all? If there were no fear, no pain, and no hurt, then there would also be no great climax, epiphany,growth or comfort.

It is too late to write, to early to think, and here I am. I am testing the limits of time I suppose. I face the day off, a day I love to love and love to hate. There is no small hand to wake me gently in the early morning light, there is no strong arm to tether me to the mattress, and no reason to attempt to leave the protection of the blanket. The day ahead offers frustrations, and exhalations, it offers time to relax, to enjoy, to be fulfilled. The day ahead offers…. maybe too much. Perhaps the fault of the day free from all ties is that there is inherent expectation that it will be relaxing, comforting, and calming. I carry the burden of that high on my back, tucked in between my shoulder blades, I shudder at the laundry pile and the bathroom I need to clean, the floor I should vacuum and the shopping I need to do… I shudder under my blanket. I shudder at the thoughts I carry and how to avoid them.

Relax is what I hear, is what I read, and what I say. Relax and enjoy, let the moment be what it is. Go forward with no expectations and no designation of fault. Take the moments as they come and enjoy them for what they are. Why is it so hard for people to do this, to let it be, to let is go, to take the moments and let them have their own life. Why are we so afraid of the unknown, and maybe I am wrong, but surely our inability to let go of a situation, or rather to let go of ourselves in a situation, rest mostly on the  fact that we are afraid of the unknown. If we put too much, or not enough in what will be the outcome? What do we avoid? What do we seek?

I do not pretend to have the answers, or to be beyond such behaviors, I am as guilty as anyone. I suppose my frustrations are with me. I have learned mostly to take the moments I have in life and let them be what they are and enjoy them when I have them. But somehow for each moment that I enjoy, I hope for another. There is, I suppose the fault, my fault, with the hope for another blissful moment, there is an expectation. Expectations are the bearers of burdens to those we don’t intend to burden.

Often I have guarded myself, on occasions when I have been uncertain….uncertain of what I wanted, or of how I wanted something to occur, often I have guarded myself, I have let the misgivings and my laziness take control and I have copped out. I have played the tired line, ignored the message till another day, created false realities. Be you friend or foe, lover or other, I have avoided you at some point. I wish I had a better explanation, quite honestly, it has often been the lack of desire, or the fear of the desire, or my own insecurities or my own lack of motivation. I am certain I rein supreme at turning down my friends, my lovers, my situations for reasons I am often unsure of. And that leads to moments that I sometimes wish I had acted, and moments where I am glad I did not.

Sometimes, I simply want to avoid something not being the way I want it. Sometimes, I realize I have expectations that will not be met. Sometimes I have concerns for how it will all play out, and how I will feel about it later on. Sometimes, I just don’t know.

There is a loner side of me, a scared side of me, a shy side of me. I have worked hard to forgo that side of me, to risk some of me and to expose more of me. I have worked to let things be as they are and take them for nothing more and nothing less.

To be fair, I have worked hard to relax. Those that know me, and have seen the struggles would likely attest to all I have learned to accept. Of course most of it comes with avoidance. It is easy to be relaxed when you avoid the roller coasters, and allude commitment and dodge certain responsibilities. I suppose the trick is how to ride the ride, enjoy the rise, and remain relaxed during the fall. None of us are great at it, perhaps none of us are even good at it. If anything what we are good at is intensifying it all, making it all seem like more than it is. Then the relaxation is gone, or seemingly so.

Is there space for it all? Is there a happy life that enjoys the rise and fall of our inhibitions, of our thoughts, of our expectations?

I am tense with this, and yet I suppose relaxed in my thoughts. Sometimes I think that I seem more crazy in my writing, other times I realize that I am more crazy if I don’t write. I think too much, I don’t often pick things apart, I just think… I see all sides, I see the past, I see the present, I never try to envision the future, but I think about it all, about everything, every word, and action, and moment. I am not sure why, I suppose if I let it all go I would enjoy it more. I would enjoy me more, every experience more.

I suppose I have set forth a challenge for myself.

Relax.

cold skin is awaken by the tingle of the hot water, the refreshing reminder that I am fully aware of every inch of me. tangles fall cool on my face; and I smother me in the abyss of artificial fluff that crowds the space in which I rest, that hoards the air I try to share, and steels the coolness that surrounds my mind. cold, I bury myself deep under the weight of the day. though hot from it’s weight I dare not remove my white cotton shield, the borderland between relaxed thoughts and the stressful being of the day.  scared of the blankness, not of the dark, the despair is feed by the 3am my eyes struggle not to recognize. I yawn into a slumber that plummets me beyond the words into the sacred land of unconsciousness and I am lost to it, suffocated by the surroundings, consumed by the ink and bad light, they become the dark, the heat, the cold, the space. I am asleep, at last.

Please allow me the joy of dragons and princesses, wizards and pixie dust, allow my flighty childish fantasies

Attach to me no expectations that I do not attach to myself or to you

Think me kind hearted and well intended, even if my actions seem mixed

Involve me in life, in the world, in myself, in you, in all

Entice me to risk myself, to risk my trust, my mind, maybe my heart

Need from me, need me to give, to try, to care to want, need from me as I need from the world

Choose to be cautious, I choose the same

Expose yourself, I will expose me; exercise the limits of your fear.