Category Archives: Acceptance

Gaiman Pie

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Gaiman Pie

I guess I finally agree.

It’s probably best you chose not to play with me,

I would have loved you.

I would have loved you even when I didn’t like you;

When you didn’t want me to.

When you didn’t love yourself.

I’d have taken care of myself, for you, and you, for me.

And I would have loved you.

I’d have listened:

to you breathing as you slept,

your thoughts when they were so deafening,

And your words quiet and loud, when you would share:

Hopes,

Dreams,

Fears.

I’d have steadied your hands when they shook while you spoke,

Placed a hand upon your chest when you quietly raged about fathers and why their kids stuttersuck… all to choke down their feelings of humiliation and fear…

Kissed you upon every entry,

Every single tear,

Every single night.

Laughed in joy,

settled into rare silence,

gazed in awe,

and continued to glow

in your mere presence.

I would have. But yes…

Yes, it’s probably best you decided not to play with me.

Because I KNOW.

I would have definitely loved you.

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Pisum sativum, Pan…daemonium

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Pisum sativum, Pan…daemonium

Sunbursts and rainbows
Girl chases them like butterflies
Never to be caught.

 

 

Oh well.

learning curve (n.) a graph showing the rate of learning (especially a graph showing the amount recalled as a function of the number of attempts to recall)

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learning curve (n.) a graph showing the rate of learning (especially a graph showing the amount recalled as a function of the number of attempts to recall)

I find it interesting how things NEVER turn out the way you think they will. I feel like humans spend a lot of time anticipating things and the ease with which they will happen some strange day in the future…

As soon as I get out of school;

As soon as I get into school;

As soon as I get married;

As soon as I get divorced;

Or in my case, as soon as my kids grow up and move out.

I have a relationship history, baggage let’s say. due to the fact that I am apparently old… I have more than the average of marriages/divorces under my belt but that average was from before I was 23, I am a very different person now and like ALL OF US, with what I know now, of course I would make different choices. But then, I made some pretty grown up decisions that have somehow, made my life easier then, and decidedly more complicated now. What vexes me is that I always thought it would be easier now.

What I am finding however, is that most everyone within what I find to be a comfortable dating age range either has very young children or wants to have them. Many who approach me right out the gate make it clear they are looking for a stepmom not a partner per se (mostly the freshly divorced). It is frustrating. Not to mention, the job I have now is less than encouraging when it comes to parenting or co-parenting. I see the worst in people as it relates to parenting and children. So, there is that, too.

I could have more children; if I got a $7,500 surgery or did IVF, I have checked into it, as recently as two years ago. I have been curious about it a long time. I was even going to do surrogacy until I turned 37, which is the magic age that makes it unprofitable. I am at a point in my life, professionally, psychologically, financially, etc. that I would probably be a really good parent (not to say I wasn’t before, but hey money and education really do help.) I envy some of my friends who are just having their first. My family members, too. Meanwhile, I’m expecting grandkids any day, at the ripe old age of 38. But I really don’t think I would want more of my own; that being said…

I’ve never had kids with someone who wanted kids. I’ve never had kids when I wanted kids. I’ve never really co-parented longer than a couple years. It is all very tempting. Truly. I had my tubes tied at 21? 22? because I love kids. I just couldn’t afford more of them and without support, couldn’t parent more than the two I had, alone.

Once upon a time, I thought that would be attractive to someone. No ticking biological clock. No concerns about a pregnancy oops. No reason to use protection in a relationship. You know? Alas.

Instead, I find that really amazing connections and potential connections, are lost because of it. Sigh. Patriarchy wins again. And I didn’t even get to participate in the conversation, it was just a decision they made. (At a point in dating that had I, as a female, brought up having children, I’m sure it would have been weird…)

Men have no real shelf life when it comes to producing children.

*yes, yes, #notallmen are fertile. I know.*

But in general, if a man can find someone to get pregnant, he can until he dies.

We women, we are burdened with the choices that we have to make to raise the kids we have. We bear the main burden and decisions to keep or not keep a child. Yes, men might participate but we bear the brunt privately and publicly. We are burdened with a window of time to procreate.

We are burdened:

Be pretty. Be young. Be fertile. Be smart. Be humble. Be a feminist (but not so much that I can’t open a car door for you or be manly).

BE.

Be what I want or need in my idea of how things should be.

I wish people could communicate better, I am very upfront about not looking to have more kids or get married.

Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t, just that I am not looking for that.

There are always ways to make a family. Family isn’t always about marriage or genetic children. And hey! Technology has made all sorts of things possible. People are having children in their 60s. Men are having babies. Nature and technology can find a way.

Meh, I digress. This post wasn’t meant to be about that particular piece. But regardless, of my ability/inability to breed, navigating online dating is much more difficult than I ever imagined.

Maybe I am too hypervigilant. (*Just because I am hypervigilant doesn’t mean I am wrong… Just FYI)

Maybe I am gunshy. Maybe I don’t know the new world rules of what is appropriate now in nonorganic database dating regarding contact, texting, amounts, context. I never really “dated” before. I was married at 16. I have randomly been with other people over the years, but usually it was friends of friends or friends that I became romantically involved with. The first time I online dated, I got lucky. I ended up spending the larger part of 5 years with the first person I dated from okcupid. So, my experiences have been limited. And everyone seems to have a different idea of what “normal” is.

This dating go round, 25% have been amazing, too awesome, probably. 25% have been boring beyond belief. 25% have been aggressive and controlling. And the last 25%? Oh yeah. Sex offender. Woot. Hell of a learning curve there.

Way to go, filters.

So I will just sit here, like the memes say, and wait for mr/mrs right to break into my house, I guess. Huzzah.

Side note:

*I might have agreed with them in said conversation which never took place. Or maybe I’d have wanted to have a baby. Who knows now.

But you know, I just wanted to know they knew what it felt like to be thirsty. I didn’t want a glass of water.*

Bonus points if you get the reference. 

 

 

Red Shifts & Blue Shifts

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Red Shifts & Blue Shifts

tunnel vision

carousel copse

dapples dancing through

Corporal light

then focus

Wylie Lane?

blurred like wind

on water

flight

edges lost in memory

plays

Donnelly?

a temporal shift

rift

the place where reasons haze

where I wanted to be

Home

where you are

not when

untethered

searching out my constant

38is 1444

unintended transparency

grasping wanting more

the fucking Witter factor…

questing for a restore point

Rose Hill? Latah? Helen Street?

syncope

half forgotten Arms of Ponderosa

seeking out the Coastline

drowning in the Fathom

the inevitableness of you

subsequent fear of losing it

now found

an unavoidable event horizon.

 

Sucks to suck. 

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Sucks to suck. 

“Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”…

Always seemed like a terrible premise,

Until you.

I wish I could erase it 

as much as I never

ever

ever

ever want to forget. 

As soon as I decide my memory is wrong,

it wasn’t what I thought.

I’m only remembering positive things. 

Selective memory….

I come across something proving I wasn’t.

It was real.

It is real. 

It was possible for me. 

Then…
regret. 

Overthinking. 

Dwelling in the past. 

Praying for a redo. 

Scaling all against it. 

How can an experience fix you 

Yet break you 

all at the same time?

I wish I could hate you. 

Instead I hate me. 

How could I forget?

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How could I forget?

How much I love(d) Sarah McLachlan… whilst listening a soul sucking mean social media music provider, this song came on: Drawn to the rhythm and afterward I fell in a rabbit hole. The second CD that I ever bought was ‘fumbling towards ecstasy’. I think I was 13 or 14 and I spent the next few months with it on repeat constantly. I really felt connected to the words/songs and thought that they meant one thing, and I suppose then it did. I listened to the entire album today. I found myself instantly reconnecting. It was like visiting an old friend, one that you held secrets with and wax nostalgic but realize how much you’ve both changed. You realize with age and hindsight your previous way of understanding things are no longer the reality. 

To you at least, everything has changed and you have a hard time remembering what made you love them before, because you didn’t even know then, the things that make you love them now. Ha. Perhaps this doesn’t make anymore sense in written form than it did outloud, but in my mind it was quite a profound thought to me. 

Which led me to the train of thought about sharing things with friends or people you consider to wise, as you respect and value what they think and say. I’ve been having some pretty big contemplations as I’m want to do, as soon as things slow down, become complacent, comfortable (usually during the winter). I started thinking about the people that I would talk to then, and now, and the differences in how I would make decisions based upon what they would say. For example, I need to make a couple big decisions in the very near future and if I asked ten of my “go to people” (ha, ten is a stretch of people I would talk to about things) and how I could anticipate the ten, very different opinions they would give. They would be based on who they are, what they know about me, what they know about the situations, where they are in their own moods, lives, development, maturity, what they could have to gain or lose based on the outcome of the decision, etc. etc. etc.

And like the lyrics and meanings of songs, it’s all up to the listener’s present, their parallels to draw, their position to filter through. 

So how does one make a decision about big things? Do you meditate? Ask your parent? What if that’s not an option? Peers? Siblings? Bosses? Therapist? TAROT for goddess’s sake? (Which again, is just like the lyrics… concrete definitions are applied to the words which communicate the meaning of the song but what is heard and inferred, well… that’s on the listener.)

Who knows. Maybe I just think too much. Just watch the lovely Sarah not trying to guilt you into gifting to the ASPCA. Isn’t she beautiful? Ughhh it kills me. 


Keeping all the kings in the back row…

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Keeping all the kings in the back row…

It’s been five months, the interwebs tell me, since I posted a new blog. It made me wonder why and I began reviewing the past five months, the past ten months, the past year, decade, life. I’ve been trying to remember who I was, who I am, who I am becoming, who I want(ed) to become. I believe that people don’t really change who they are, character wise; but beliefs and behaviors and experiences definitely alter the way that core self presents itself. Without getting all geeky and social workery, and keeping a trauma informed frame of reference, I’ve come to the following thought processes I am still clarifying internally:

Happiness isn’t only a noun. Like trust, it is a verb as well. A state of being. We all seem to seek it, we may delude ourselves into believing things are altruistic or selfless, but peace, true peace and grace in the sense of happiness, are mere moments we sometimes work for and sometimes come easily. They can be fleeting, lasting only a moment, no longer than a blink, a kiss, a memory. Or they may last 97 days. But there are two guarantees in terms of happiness: as long as you are consciously living (maybe when you aren’t) these moments will always end, and come again. Sometimes it’s longer between moments, sometimes they are so quick to cycle you don’t notice the breaks.

Personally, as long as I can remember, contentment eludes me most times for whatever reason. But I have the moments, glimpses that get me through to the next one. I get bored and unsatisfied with every facet of my being, but if I can keep from destroying things too permanently in the interim, I’m able to know I am okay. I am always okay. As I have matured, I’ve realized it is better to destroy my hair, paint a wall, bite my nails til they bleed… rather than walking out on jobs, people, friends, places, etc. but subconsciously I think I still check out. Some in my world realize this about me, and love me anyway. Some people know it but don’t understand it. They take it as a personal affront and push me away. But that’s okay, too. Everyone outgrows people and situations. Everyone has their own happiness to mitigate and manage. I find it easier to console and regulate myself as I get older, what used to be dissociation and borderline personality tendencies has become more nostalgia and rueful, but with a sense of peace. It’s odd.

As previously stated, I’m still processing things. I’m very proud that I have learned to forgive myself and see beauty in myself others saw and I denied. For the most part anyway, I still full on have moments of doubt and self loathing, to be sure. But even more obvious than grace, these moments are shorter. I consciously realize when I am feeling regret and doubt in my world. And I can just as easily talk myself out of it, but it’s work. It’s a verb. Love is a verb. Self love is sometimes the hardest. Learning to stop internalizing negativity and reframing it into a palatable lesson has been the crux of this year. I’m thankful for the immense amount of pain I have felt. The sense of loss. The ability to be so wrecked by something I find myself lying on the ground in a totally inconsolable heap. Because I can get up. I can still be okay. I can be loved and love again. I can accept things in the forms that I did not want. Or did not plan. I can keep going. I can be happy to have what I have, despite it not being what I dreamed or imagined. I choose peace.

And so it goes.

Silver linings.

“I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.” ~ Salinger 

April Showers

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April Showers

Rain can bring things back to life…

Rain can also drown them.

All power is an illusion…

Yet energy exchanged freely is tangible.

“Love” can be an adverb, a noun, a verb;

it’s really just like “Fuck.”

Hope can be a welcome gift…

She can and will, also fool you.

One commits to seeing it through,

the other remains righteously based in fear.

A secret can encourage alliances,

concurrently it feeds into concern.

Sunshine is what allows all life,

but the sun can cause also cancer.

Chemo is a curative,

while simultaneously it poisons the body.

Intimacy is not to be forsaken,

dismissed for the idea of “What if..”

Regret can turn to reflection…

Reflection can change your reality.

Emotion influences logic,

logic without emotion is cold.

Opening Pandora’s box gave knowledge and insight,

wisdom not always appreciated.

Patience is a virtue,

but one that can quickly grow sour. 

Bitter on the tongue of the confused,

waiting to be swallowed hard by the word…

YES.