Letting go. For serious this time

I don't like this part of the story. When the right thing to do feels sad and difficult and not very right at all. But deep down I know it has to be done. Because I don't want to get stuck here. I don't want to settle for something that is not really what I want and definitely not what I need. As much as I wish it didn't have to be this way, sometimes it's necessary to let go of the thoughts, behaviors and sadly, a person that I am letting hold me back.

I don't know what happens next. I only know that I am moving forward, wherever that leads.

Lyric of the moment: "It isn’t easy for me to let it go. 'Cause I swallow every single word. And every whisper, every sigh, eats away at this heart of mine. And there is a hollow in me now. So I put my faith in something unknown. I’m living on such sweet nothing..."

But who knows, maybe someday it could be a little bit true

From the novel I'm reading, There But For The by Ali Smith:

"She had not expected, out in the world, to find herself quite so much the wrong sort of person."

I have often felt this way, like I am irreparably weird. I can accept being weird. Everyone is weird in some way. But I can't accept feeling bad about it. I don't want to do that anymore.

He said "Thought I forgot about you, huh?" And I said "No. I am unforgettable." I don't know why I said it. I was just being a smart ass. But who knows, maybe someday it could be a little bit true.

I'm trying not to take things personally. I'm trying to remember that the way people react is more about them and what is going on in their lives than it is about me. And I'm trying to react with love instead of feeling hurt. But it's really freaking hard.

I can't remember where I read these, but I wrote them down thinking they might be helpful later:

"You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that

you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give."

"Do your best, control the elements you can control, and then let it be.

Once you have done what you can, if it's meant to be it will happen,

or it will show you the next steps that need to be taken."

So about those next steps, I could really use some sort of sign. It's kind of confusing around here.

But the truth is that I'll see the signs I'm looking for. I can choose to see beauty or ugliness, hope or despair, happiness or sadness. And either way, I'll be right.

So I need to relax, be patient, do the things that make me feel happy and healthy, focus on one day at a time and let everything else work itself out.

Lyric of the moment: "Let's dance to joy division, and celebrate the irony. Everything is going wrong, but we're so happy. Let's dance to joy division, and raise our glass to the ceiling.'Cos this could all go so wrong, but we're so happy..." (Because I like this idea, of celebrating even when things are going wrong, of finding happiness even in calamity.)

It's my birthday and I'll run if I want to

Pure awesomeness

I woke up this morning, 31 years old and, all that be-in-the-moment, the-happiness-is-within crap aside, not quite where I want to be in life. It was raining. I could tell it was going to be a no good, very bad day. And I thought fuck it, I'm going running. So I did. Not very far, but it was just what I needed. I kept expecting it to hurt and it didn't. I thought don't get too hopeful, don't push your luck. So I ran home, took a most excellent shower, and put on the most ridiculous piece of clothing I own - a shirt depicting a pug wearing a top hat.

I've started to get glimmers of excitement, but I know I have to shut it down or it will only lead to crushing disappointment. And yet, every time I try to type the word hopeless, it comes out as hopeful instead, and then I have to go back and correct it. Stupid optimism. Why do you build me up just to let me down? Apparently crushing disappointment is a risk I'm willing to take.

My friend George told me I am "a force of awesomeness to be reckoned with." And I thought, not yet. But that's it. I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up...a force of awesomeness to be reckoned with.

I hope birthday wishes come true. I could use all the help I can get.

Lyric of the moment: "Thirty-one today. What a thing to say...I thought my life would be different somehow. I thought my life would be better by now..."

Impossible things: grocery shopping

The good news is I finally went grocery shopping. The bad news is I am probably a lost cause. Maybe it was a bad idea. But he offered to go with me and I knew I wouldn't go shopping by myself and the fridge situation was getting a bit desperate. The only thing in there was a pack of Polaroid film. But the real reason I went is that I haven't liked anyone else lately, which is utterly depressing, and I just had to find out if I have become completely devoid of feeling.

We got lunch first and when the woman making our sandwiches asked "Are you together?" I thought I wish, even though I knew she was only talking about our order.

The good news is that my heart still works. The bad news is that it gets stuck on the most hopeless and impossible things.

But at least the Polaroid film now has some company.

Then later I went to see The Perks Of Being A Wallflower with a friend. And Paul Rudd's character said "We accept the love we think we deserve."

So I'm screwed. Utterly hopeless.

But then a bench told me "No excellence without toil." And the one thing I've always been good at is toil.

So maybe it's not entirely hopeless.

Lyric of the moment: "I'm just as fucked up as they say. I can't fake the daytime. Found an entrance to escape into the dark..."

Times like these

Sometimes I feel like the little bee girl in Blind Melon's No Rain video. Maybe someday I will stumble across a field filled with other dancing bee people.

Sometimes I wonder what I've been working towards my whole life. What is it for, all the effort, sweat, saving? Future robot uprising?

Sometimes I worry I'm searching for something that doesn't exist. But even if that's true, I know I can't give up. It's epicness or nothing.

Sometimes I think everything happens for a reason. But I really, really, really want to know the reason. I could endure anything if I knew for certain that it would all make sense somehow. Eventually. And by eventually I mean really freaking soon.

Sometimes. Okay, a lot of times, I think too much.

Sometimes I wonder what the hell is going on. Why do I have all these black and blue marks?

Sometimes I think the road less traveled is overrated. It's confusing and lonely and damn near impenetrable. But as much as I want to keep getting better, I wouldn't want to be anyone else. I wouldn't want to live anyone else's life. And even on the worst days of mine, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Sometimes I feel like giving up. And then I think, don't give up, give more.

Lyric of the moment: "Don't you worry, you'll find yourself. Follow your heart and nothing else. And you can do this if you try. All I want for you is to be satisfied..."

Things that are good

Even though I'm not very good at it, I enjoy meeting people and hearing their stories, who they are and where they've been and what they like to do. But the thing about people is that they are so nice. And then I feel bad. I feel bad if they pay for me. I feel bad if they give me things. I feel bad that I don't have anything to offer them. It's as if I'm a detached observer, interested in the conversation and the person but with no expectation or attachment to the outcome. I like people and I want things to go well for them, but lately I find that I don't care what they think of me. In some ways I guess it is sort of zen, but I don't want to become apathetic.

But enough of that. Things that are good:

*I now have 3 houseplants. And they are all still alive! Ok, so one of them is a cactus (thanks, George!) and probably doesn't count. But the other 2 are orchids, which as far as plants go, are on the fancy and persnickety side. Since all of my previous houseplants met with an unfortunate and untimely demise, I'm considering this a success.

*While I was driving, a yellow exclamation point light started flashing on Maz's dashboard. I looked in the manual, expecting it to be something bad. With Bug, it was always something bad. But luckily it was just the low tire pressure indicator light, so I stopped at the gas station and put air in the tires. Unfortunately, the free air pump doesn't have any sort of gauge on it so I couldn't tell how much air I was putting in the tires. I just counted to 30 Mississippi (and one for good luck, 31) for each tire. Apparently this worked because the yellow exclamation point went away and has not returned.
*Burn Notice. I started watching this show on Netflix and it makes me wish I had spy skills. Though I would be a terrible spy because I hate guns and I have no interest in fighting anyone.

*The ring I bought for $4 at a household sale from a woman wearing a turban who called me "Doll."

*Going to the library and reading in coffee shops and driving through roundabouts and going to my thinking spot and getting up early to use the rowing machine while watching music videos (because early morning is the only time MTV and VH1 play music videos anymore) and listening to my iPod in the shower. These are the things I do when I want to feel better but I can't run.

Lyric of the moment: "Oh, an incurable humanist you are..."

I wonder

I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks about how strange it is to be alive. How one moment I didn't exist and the next moment, through fate or luck or randomness or whatever, I did. How one day I will once again cease to exist, except maybe if I'm really lucky, in someone else's memory. How infinitely amazing it is to be anything at all.

I wonder why it is so much easier to love than to be loved.


I wonder if my enjoyment of something increases in direct proportion to the amount of time I had to wait for it, if deprivation begets appreciation begets satisfaction.

I wonder how this is ever going to work out.

Universe, I really hope you have some kind of plan, because I've got nothing.

Lyric of the moment: "And love, we need it now. Let's hope for some, 'cause oh, we're bleeding out..."

The part where anything could happen

I am very lucky and I have a ridiculously good life. It feels greedy to ask for more. But isn't that what hope is? Trusting that there will be even more goodness around the corner?

I'm trying not to want. But it's hard. Because I do. I want a perfectly healed tendon, more people, maybe another robot. I want everything to be momentous and meaningful and memorable.

I can't stop wanting impossible things.

Because there's a part of me that believes anything is possible.

And I don't want to lose it.
It's my very best part.

Lyric of the moment: "But now I've seen it through. And now I know the truth. That anything could happen..."

I'm prepared to wait however long it takes

Sometimes I don't know how I'm going to react in a situation until I get there. I thought it would be lonely living alone in my house. But I'm finding that I actually enjoy it. Though when the time comes to live with someone again, I will enjoy that too.
Lately I don't like anyone. I mean, I like everyone. People are awesome. But I don't like anyone. In that I-can't-wait-to-spend-time-with-you kind of way. I'm just not feeling it. It's like my heart is still stuck on something else or is on vacation or something.

I miss that feeling. It's similar to the way I feel about running. I like spin class and rowing and rock climbing. But running is the only thing I'd happily wake up at 5am for or stay up until 1am for, that I could do every day for the rest of my life and never tire of it. It's the difference between liking something and being truly passionate about it.

I'm prepared to wait however long it takes. To get back to running. To find the right person, or for the right person to find me. That doesn't mean I'm going to be sitting around idly in the meantime. There are too many other adventures to be had. But I want a life full of the things I'm passionate about. So I'm going to follow my heart, wherever it leads. Because it always knows exactly where to go.

Lyric of the moment: "And my head told my heart, let love grow. But my heart told my head, this time no, this time no..."

The truths we hold to be self evident

Two things I read recently that have been following me around ever since:

"People become trapped by their own conception of their limits." (from 30 Lessons for Living)

and

"Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story." (from Wild)

Oh right, of course. It seems so apparent now, but I hadn't been aware enough to articulate it myself. The only thing holding me back is me. I have these limiting thoughts - no one will like me or I am unattractive or I can't do that - that I hold as truths and they color the way I interpret everything. Even if there is obvious evidence to the contrary, I don't see it. I am a bad scientist, ignoring any data that doesn't support my hypotheses. But what if the truths I hold to be self evident are actually false? What if the story I've been telling myself is fiction? What if I choose to tell myself a different story?

Or what if I don't tell myself a story at all? What if I see things simply as they are, unbiased by my preconceptions?

This would be a herculean task. I have almost 31 years of preconceptions filed away in my brain. How can I ever escape from that? I suppose the answer to that is one thought at a time, one day at a time.

Lyric of the moment: "I, I tried so hard to let you go, but some kind of madness is swallowing me whole. I have finally seen the light. And I have finally realized what you mean..." (because sometimes I hear a song and think, story of my life)