same lesson

It all goes back – for me – to learning how to both be alone and that I’m not alone – separate and together, gain nourishment, feed myself with the love of being part of everything even at 3:45 am when I can’t sleep and it would appear I have no one, nothing but my music and laptop and the internet to keep me company.

This must be the lesson I need to learn. At least, what i need to learn right now. But it could very well be the central lesson of my life.

Time alone on the weekends I have to myself is not the problem, though they are disorienting in a structural way (a way I need to take more advantage of spiritually). I am learning to love them. I need to make plans with friends more often so that I’m not alone. I need to make friends here. I am going to do what I need to do to make that happen.

I remember being a teenager and this period of time where I was in a musical, running track and had an after school job and I had to keep my grades up or lose my activities. I did it all, and maybe I was even more productive in all of them because I had things that had to be done. I had to learn in that trial by fire way to organize my time. Focus my efforts. But I didn’t want to be home. I couldn’t stand being at home. I remember a semester in college – 6 classes and 3 jobs. I was busy literally all the time.

But I have never, not once in my whole life, been alone. By alone I mean having no one but me to take care of, no one else in my personal space that I had to share it with. And that aloneness isn’t going to happen. I have children. So in the most important way I’ll never be alone. But in other just-as-important ways I need to be.

Patterns.

Same lesson. Haven’t learned it. Haven’t given myself a chance to. It’s kind of like having this long hair. Can’t get used to it. Haven’t had hair this long since I was 9. But I like it. Most of the time.

Anonymity

Dear Reader,

You might think I keep this blog anonymous because I gossip or get nasty or talk about my ex.

Here is why this blog is anonymous: I don’t have to wear another face or another mask or anything here.

I’m not malicious or gossipy or weird or some kind of fucked up person divulging their worst shit online.

But I am crazy private.

I just discovered this about myself a few months ago. I used to not be. I used to be more… out there. But I was married to someone with no boundaries and for some reason I adopted much of that bullshit. Now I know – I get it. I’m all about live and let live. But with myself – I am conservative. I love without reserve when I love but I have become very careful with whom I give that level of care to.

I don’t know if this means I will spend my life alone or not. I hope not.

Back again

I haven’t posted here in a while.

I was thinking about all the things I do differently. I wrote about the concrete stuff on Facebook but here, I can, I don’t know, be more open about what’s happening to me.

To me. With me. For me. By me.

It’s such a wild place to be. This place where my mind is so clear and crystal that I don’t know what to do with all the space. Is this what it means to walk the world with awareness? I feel like I hear every bird chirp, see every flower bloom, notice every fluctuation in a stranger’s face.

In a way it interrupts the writing of stories. To feel like you can see through everything to what it really is.

Someone I loathe wrote to me that things aren’t ever what they seem. Resisting my temptation to get the last word, I wanted to tell him, oh, but sometimes things are what they are, sometimes an asshole is really just an asshole.

When I met that person I was in a place where nothing was what it seemed. My whole life was smoke and mirrors.

Another friend I met around the same time called me complex.

Oh, I was complex. My house of cards was a mansion.