christmas spirit.

okay.

i've been horrible this year.

i've lost perspective, lost a great job, lost sight of how to be kind in the face of cruelty, lost money intended for virtue to the hands of vice.

i've been ineffective.

i've been weak.

...

so today, i sent an apology.  probably for the tiniest of all my crimes, but it was the clearest first step. if i were to go back to each and every person i bristled with this past year and attempt to un-burn bridges, i don't think it would be the best use of my, or their, time.  Sometimes you burn a bridge and the freedom of being an island heals you.  Sometimes being an island also isolates you though, and for how much i fight, i keep coming up shorter and shorter of balance between the freedom and the isolation.

i keep describing myself as straddling this line between divorce and making it work with my baby's dad.  i'm kicking myself for setting up this abysmal reality for myself that ensures I'm barely surviving within the very emotional limits that keep me stranded in indecision.  on the one hand, i feel propelled towards building a new life with my little one, one that is simple, controlled, safe, and yes, i realize it will be hard.  hard to make enough money, build enough security, create a life that is fully lived on a poverty wage.

but not emotionally hard, like it is now.  i think about my husband, this person whom i entrusted my whole heart to, that i willingly surrendered every guarded part of myself to, and i'm still in love with him.  which breaks my heart each and every time i interact with him.  the truth is that i'm terrified to let go of him.  i'm afraid that our love has most definitely run its course, yet i still love him.  even after everything that has gone so very wrong, imagining my life without him seems wretched, even a tiny bit horrible.

so i'm avoiding it.

which means i've been horrible.  i've been the fastest to point out the flaws and failings of others, the quickest to the mean girls' table.  i've flippantly dismissed other people that are most definitely wounded already by life and offered zero empathy, no acknowledgement of their humanity.  i reasoned that this is how they've treated me, they don't care so why should i?

but i do know better.  i know better than to revert to an eye for an eye.

i know better, and lazily, i did it anyways.

so i'm starting over.

again.

rebuild my trust in myself.  rebuild my world.  be brave enough to let go when i need to let go.  be kind to myself when i just keep holding on for too long.

I'm pretty bad at this.  Blogging, that is.

Actually, my latest discovery is that I am bad at a lot of things.

Maybe bad is a little strong.

I'm pretty bad at sticking to plans, taking criticism from people that I've judged to be less experienced than myself, and keeping my room clean and usable on a regular basis.

I think that I'm probably a really bad friend also.  I don't go out of my way to make things easier for my friends.  I can rarely come through with presents on special occasions.  I expect too much, give too little.  I project my feelings.  I have a passive agressive temper tantrum if I don't get my way on occasion.  I don't always tell the whole truth.  I talk about myself.

rotate.

move.  change.  prioritize and eliminate.

let go.  give away.  wash down the drain. 

its hard.  but its not as hard as people say it is.  the natural process of creation, destruction, creation, destruction.

i could have been a hoarder.  i probably am, deep down in my heart.  but over the years of constantly moving, constantly changing, with financial restrictions at play, i have learned. 

i have learned that there will always be another picture frame, pillowcase, couch, album, and believe it or not, there will always be another friend.

hoarders often call themselves collectors.  i have called myself a collector.  mostly of typewriters, but occasionally of friends.  the problem with hoarding/collecting anything is that the value of each item becomes lost to the individual's need to have more of the same thing, and the original happiness that came with having one typewriter for each of its flaws and eccentricities and mechanical beauties, is overshadowed by the sheer mass of so many typewriters in one place.

is it so with friends? 

do i(we) lose the value, and in turn opportunity, in each one of our individual friendships by getting caught up in the romance of having so many? 

i gave away several typewriters last time i moved.  i kept the ones that i appreciated only on an individual basis, not as part of my collection. 

i think it may be time to do the same with my collection of friends.

sounds horrible, i know.  but the truth is that one man's trash is another man's treasure, right?  sometimes things or people come into your life for a season, to help you, teach you, learn from you, grow you, impress you, deflate you, propel you forward in this life.  And when the season is over, its time to let go, both for your sake, and for theirs.  They can continue doing those things with someone else... and so will you. 

and so will I.

letting go.

i have more work to do.  i kind of can't believe how much.  i am learning so much about myself and about who i continue to grow to be, yet there is always so much more that i feel like i could be doing, learning, acheiving.

i have never experienced jealousy in my landscape of emotions like i do now.  it seems like every time i turn a corner or make progress, there is someone else who is just innately doing it better.

i guess now would be a good time to remind myself that it doesn't matter.  what matters is my own learning, my own growth, my own goals that i am acheiving.  if anger is an indicator of action that needs to be taken, then jealousy for me is an indicator that i need to reassess myself.  look at what i've told myself that i've wanted to do with myself.  take stock in my progress.  make adjustments.  then continue to learn from there. 

and really, the only reason why i don't like to feel jealous of other's talent, skill, or success, is because i would much rather celebrate it with them.  humans are such remarkable things.  we are capable of so much more than we think we are.  which means that i am capable of so much more than i think i am.  and i want people to celebrate my successes with me also. 

i am starting over with lots of brand new things coming into my world in the next few weeks.  the only factor involved in my success is me.  i believe that i am capable of doing amazing things.  i also recognize that success and acheivement comes with many failed attempts.  learning from those attempts is what makes me successful, not the final result.

there is no final result.

grumps.

i've been horribly grumpy lately. 

it could be all the changes.  several friends have recently left the part-time interests that have been the root of our friendships to each other.  i've moved, whittled my entire household down to one bedroom.  the job that i once loved and took pride in has become constricted to the point where i feel insignificantly corporate.  it could be these things. 

it could also be that the changes themselves are just changes, which are always a factor in life.  so maybe, its me that can't cope with so much change all of a sudden. 

its true that at the root of those friendships, home, and job have always been evolving into something else.  its also true that each one of those were once something inspiring and wonderful in my world.  at that point in which the inspiring and wonderful turned to challenge and struggle, i could no longer take refuge in their success, or attach it to my identity as a part of my own success.

i didn't think that i was still running around trying to prove that i could succeed at something in the world.  i thought that what i was looking for was learning.  i guess that in each of those things, i definitely struggled and learned until i reached a point where success made it worth it to continue.  i think that is the point in my journey that i miss today.  the part where the results are in from all that hard work, and somehow i can approve of myself, and all the toiling away that i'd spent all that time on. 

recognizing when to stop is supposed to be the hardest learned, and most valuable skill to develop as an artist.  so if i'm going to create my life, i'm going to have to learn to stop.  to let go.  to let myself quit one thing to pick up another.  to try doing it differently next time, not expecting the same result, but a new, more beautiful one than the last.  until that one is done.  then i start from scratch once again.

sarcasm.

i want a vacation.  i want to pack up my swimsuit and a pair of jeans and go stay on a beach.

where it stays above 90 degrees the whole time i'm there.

i want to sit and read books till my eyes feel like they will fall out of my head. 

and it would be ideal if i didn't need to go anywhere more than a few hundred yards away from my beach vacationing area.  maybe a grocery store on the corner that sells delicious fresh produce.  and a burrito truck.

i think there should be a magically endless supply of beer, water, and iced tea.

oh, and ice cream cones.  there should also be a magically endless supply of ice cream cones.

nbd.

i can't sleep.  can barely breath. 


i tried to eat, read, stare, but still no sleep. 


i'm thinking of all those silly things people say, and of nature.  how the process of life is life, death, life, death.  creation, destruction.  grow, shrink.  and its the death, the destruction, the shrinking that i've been busy doing.  making emotional compost for what's supposed to grow next, i suppose. 


i'm reading too many novels.  i haven't hemmed that skirt yet, or written the two lists that i know will help me a great deal in the process of going from decomposing to growing again.  and now i'm up at four-thirty in the morning writing about it, but still not doing it. 


i guess that means its time to do it.

art smart.

my dear friend is in the process of creating a collection of art-craft work to sell at an artist's craft fair.  in discussing her thoughts and fears about this with me, i found myself although attentive to her and the conversation, still wandering through the lost files in my memory of all the many crafty things i would like to make with my hands and sell on a table some day.  it felt very true and right for me to recommend making a priority list about all the things she would like to make (as the procrastinator in her is continuing to come up with more ideas than she can feasibly produce in the short period of time that she has before the fair), and also to decide what she would like to have in volume, price, and style at this particular fair, in order to point her somewhat aimless art making to a productive, sell-able collection.

i hate and love whoever came up with the whole "take your own advice" thing.  in this case in particular, the "advice" i was dishing could be turned upon myself in so many facets of my current life.  its overwhelming, even, to imagine what kind of productive work could come from the somewhat aimless daily battles i'm picking with life if i just took the time to think outside the project at hand and focus more on what i want the results of the greater project to be at any given point in the near future.

soaked.

is it actually possible that i've reached an over-saturation point in some of my current friendships that is causing this blue-ness around my time with them?

i'm a generally secure person, honest about and confident in what i want and bring to the relationships that i choose to participate in.  over the past week, i've felt several moments while around who i consider to be some of my dearest friends, a sharpness in some void that surprises me.  i'm taken aback suddenly when i realize i'm feeling left out, excluded, or tossed aside.  i don't think i'm imagining these things happening, although i realize that its perfectly normal for friendships to go in cycles, especially among women my age.  what i think is worse, however, is the dullness that is there when the sharpness isn't.  am i bored by these people?  am i bored by myself?  am i needing to be heard, loved, and to be giving in some way that is not currently possible with these people?

i also, however, have noticed myself refusing to see outside this tiny circle of people lately, which i know is a solid YES to all of the questions i'm asking, and that YES is followed with "and its your prerogative to do what you want about it."

i love these people.  i love them dearly.  i also need to do some things for myself that will remind me that i am not dependent on being one of them.  i may or may not go in and out of being a social butterfly and then a lone wolf on occasion.  i may be a good friend one day, and then a horrible one the next.  i may not always share my struggles with these people, or be completely honest.  i may wander out of range without warning just so that i can gain a larger perspective.

its amazing that i forget those things sometimes.

curtains

i spent a mere thirty minutes today attempting to finish hanging curtain rods in my semi-new apartment before rushing off to my third of four derby practice nights in a row.

i also spent about two minutes in between the previously mentioned activities explaining to a friend of mine how i was way overcommitted.

over committed.

at this point, i'm doing about 30% of the things i want to do, 30% of the things i need to do, and 80% of the things that i should not be doing for any reason.  i recognize my own fear looming over my everyday busy-ness, and my overall misplaced energy, yet i cannot seem to shake it, or break it, or begin to unwind it.  i'm spending alot of time and energy on immediate setbacks, drawbacks, and slapbacks.  i believe i would be best serving my twenty-something years on recovering dreams and unwrapping new beginnings.  yet i continue to neglect the things that are built into me, the tiny voices and big plans.

and on top of all this, i find myself strangely vulnerable to a fresh romantic endeavor that is as unlikely as it is sweet and charming.  i don't quite know the significance of a thing like this, at a time like this, in the kind of world i live in now.  its been a long time since all of those things lined up for me in the same way i always added them up in my head as a girl, and i'm beginning to come to terms with the fact that it probably never will.

line up, that is.

Blueberry Park

I've taken my niece and nephew, who I nanny a few times a week, to Blueberry Park on occasion to pick blueberries and be out in the summer sun.  We had a particularly successful picking day, as luck would have it, today as there were several bushes full of ripe blueberries to pick.

I don't know what it is about blueberries that I love so much- it certainly isn't their flavor.  They're good, but there are other fruits that i prefer to taste in my mouth.  My theory is that I appreciate and respect the process that each blueberry bush goes through every summer.

At first, the blueberries form but are green for a long time.  Slowly individual berries, in no particular order, will begin to ripen, changing color from green to reddish purple, then finally to a deep dark blackish blue.  All those berries of any one bush will never ripen to perfection in tandem- instead, one by one, they decide on their own when they will begin the process of becoming edible.

The ritual of picking blueberries then has become one of patience and perseverance for me, rather than one of instant gratification.  A lesson that i will probably always be learning in my life.

Wednesdays

Lately I've been spending my Wednesday evenings going to derby practice, then following up with a chocolate milkshake with a certain boy at the good old Frisko Freeze.  In theory, there is nothing wrong with this, but the issue that arises for me later is strictly social, apparently.  I've been getting shit on Twitter from people who apparently think this is a ritual deserving of an intervention.

If only they knew.