Talk. Confess. Enlighten the world. Let it go already.

I’ve gone and done that stupid thing again that I do every now and then… I’ve signed up at an online dating site.

It’s OK Cupid. I was attracted because they have a good system of questions that you not only answer, but also say what you want the OTHER person’s answer to be, and how important the question is to you (irrelevant to mandatory).

I created an account the night before Valentine’s Day. Not even thinking about the day, but what a coincidence. I got a flush of excitement at first, and many nice men were checking me out, and I felt happy about that. Then today I feel sad. All these nice men are looking… but hardly anyone is actually messaging me. So I fear that I must have said something that makes me really unattractive to people.

The two things I think I did wrong were to be honest that I’m overweight (that seems to be a cardinal sin), and to not be obsessed with sex. It seems most people not only think about sex a lot more than I want to, but they really WANT to have sex as a major focus of their life. My attitude is that sex is personal and private, and I’m not afraid of it but I don’t want to discuss it publicly. But my reluctance to answer many sex questions has got the computer system labelling me as “traditional” or even “submissive”, and makes me sound downright BORING. I’m not boring! I just don’t want sex to be a subject to discuss until I already like you well enough to WANT to go to bed with you.

Maybe I should say that in my profile.

I dunno. I’m just afraid that if I don’t get the kind of response I hope for, then I’ll start feeling bad about myself, like nobody could possibly like me. I know people find me attractive. I get flirted with all the time! Even if I am fat. Weight isn’t the ONLY thing that makes a woman beautiful or not, and I’ve got a lot going for me besides my size.

But it’s true that weight is a dealbreaker for many men. I don’t even blame them. Folks are allowed to want what they want. Having a preference isn’t wrong. I just feel sad that I’m unable to solve this one problem. If only I was thin, I think I’d have an awful lot more choices in the dating scene. 3 months ago

My best friend is moving to another state soon. Well, in maybe four months. But that’s still “soon” to me. She’s going to live with her parents, who are nearing the end of their lives. She may be gone any length of time up to and including “forever”. I will miss her terribly.

She isn’t even the type of person to phone much, or keep up with any other type of communication other than “in person”. So there’s a good chance I’ll lose touch with her almost completely. It’s almost like facing her possibly dying. She won’t be there for me to chat with anymore when we drive places together. She won’t be there for me to hug on special occasions, like holidays or when one of us is really sad. The person who understands me best in this world, and is the most sympathetic and kind to me of anyone, ever, is leaving.

Since she is the choir director for our church obviously the choir is planning a party for her going-away. I got the job of making a piece of jewelry for her to remember us by. Another friend took me shopping to three different bead stores today before we finally found what we needed. I’m making a charm bracelet for her. Well, anklet, really, since she doesn’t wear bracelets. I know it will be something she’ll treasure. She likes anklets.

I also wrote a song for her. It’s really just adding a verse to another song which she helped me write a few years ago. The song is what we sing to the children when they leave the main service and go to their religious education classes. So it has “goodbye, I love you, I’ll think about you when you’re gone and look forward to your return” kind of sentiments in it already. I just expanded that a little bit to be more specific to her leaving. I haven’t decided yet whether I want the whole choir to sing it, or whether I’ll sing it solo, just from my heart. Probably I’ll have everyone sing it. If I sing alone I might choke up too much to squeak it out.

She has been my best friend for four or five years now. She has been the main reason I attend church at all. She is pretty much the only reason I’ve stuck with choir for the past two years, even after feeling really burned-out and annoyed with the other choir members. I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to continue going to church without her. I don’t know if church will mean anything to me any more if she’s not part of my family there.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. 3 months ago

I need to share this. I’ve recently had a “revelation” about the story of Adam and Eve from Genesis. With all due respect to anyone out there who considers this story sacred and/or literal, I would like to explain a new take on it which I’ve recently figured out. I don’t mean this to be contentious. If hearing an alternate interpretation of the Bible might offend you, I request that you please read no further.

Many parts of the Garden of Eden story don’t make sense to me, if read as literal. I will not get snarky as I know many atheists do when pointing out what they see as Biblical errors and illogic. What I want to do is consider the whole story to be allegorical of EACH human’s life, rather than thinking it is the beginning of ALL human life. Suddenly the story makes a lot of sense! Throw in a bit of metaphor about sex, and I think you’ll see what I mean.

In early childhood, we live “carefree” as in a magical garden when all our needs are provided for us. We are not ashamed of being nude, because we have no sexual thoughts at that age. Then when we become adults we suddenly begin to see the opposite sex as attractive, and suddenly also begin to see the point in covering up for modesty’s sake.

The “serpent” is a major character in the story which never made sense to me before. Why would an animal talk? Why would an animal want to tempt Eve to eat an apple (or whatever the fruit was)? In early texts there is no indication that the serpent was anything other than an animal, though when I was told the story the serpent was supposed to be the Devil himself, in disguise. But I once read a story about a man who exposed himself to women, telling them to “kiss the serpent”, and when I took that metaphor into this story it began to click and make sense.

The “fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” was a problem for me too. Why would a loving God put such a dangerous and tempting fruit anywhere his beloved children could FIND it? If it was me, I’d put it in a locked cupboard somewhere if it had to exist at all. Then I realized that “knowledge” in the Bible often refers to sex. (ie: Abraham KNEW his wife Sarah, and they conceived a son.) So maybe the tree didn’t help them see for the first time that good and evil existed, nor did it give them any special philosophical understanding of it, but perhaps it gave them an EXPERIENCE that was both good and evil somehow. Then I remembered that apples are often used as a metaphor for sex in many old fairy tales. Suddenly the picture began to come clear. Sex is a very transformative thing in a person’s life. It opens the woman’s womb to the potential of bearing children, in great pain, but which is also a source of great love and joy for her (motherhood). It obligates a man to the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood, taking care of a family by working hard all day in the fields, earning bread by the sweat of his brow rather than being provided for as he was in childhood. Yet sex is a great pleasure and joy in people’s life. Surely in sex we experience both good and evil(difficulty or pain, both emotional and physical) in many various ways. In parenthood, even, we experience a great mixture of joys, sorrows, pleasures, and pains as we do the best we can, realizing we are unfortunately NOT god, and sometimes things go wrong or we make mistakes.

So now the story looks like this: God is perhaps a parent figure, for who else provides all a young child’s needs? Little kids think their parents are omnipotent. So God/the parent tells Adam and Eve/young kids not to eat this fruit of the knowledge of good and evil. (ie. “don’t have sex!”) God knows the kids are too young to handle such responsibilities. He knows once you become a parent you can never go back to being a child again. That old life is dead to you. But then the kids begin to grow up, and suddenly that fruit begins to be very tempting. The “serpent” convinces them that if they eat this fruit they will not die, but would be like God. (They think they will be able to handle the problems and responsibilities, and the kids are actually eager to be parents themselves, possibly because they think parents have everything easy and always get their own way, and are omnipotent over their children, and they covet that power.) So they go ahead and indulge.

When asked how this happened, Eve said “the serpent” tricked her. This also explains that bit she added about being warned not only not to “eat the fruit” but not even to touch it. I know a lot of sexual encounters begin with just touching, not really intending to go “all the way”. Anyhow, when he was asked why it happened Adam said “the woman tempted him with the apple”. Surely we know how seeing a woman and imagining having sex with her can be very tempting for young men in particular.

So the upshot was that they both indulged in sexual activity with one another, then they both got exiled from the garden of innocence and childhood paradise, and had to become responsible adults.

THE END.

I have heard before that parts of the Genesis stories are known to have been written by several different authors, adding, correcting, and changing the story to fit whatever their current society thought were the most important lessons. I fully believe this started off as nothing but a fable about the transition of children to adults and then parents. All the stuff about the curses got added later, to make a point. Then maybe the stories of their children and etc. got added on later, just to keep the narrative growing, and to teach other important lessons that mattered to the people of the time.

Anyway, that’s my take on it. 3 months ago

Yesterday I went in for training to be a Chalice Circle Facilitator. Chalice circles are what we use in my UU church instead of bible studies to give people a chance to gather in small groups in people’s homes, and witness one anothers’ spiritual journey. We talk about a wide variety of topics, often quite deep and meaningful. There is little if any cross-talk allowed, though, because nobody is there to tell another person what to believe. We just say what our own take on the topic is, and we all accept that different experiences lead us all to different understanding. These gatherings often become the basis for deep connections between the members.

I’m starting a group with an emphasis on young mothers. There is no other group specifically for young mothers at this time in our church, so I figure it would be good for us to unite and share mutual support. Most church members are over 55, and it can be tiresome to always be the baby of the group even when you’re sprouting gray hair. Everyone in my chalice circles before have always been grandmothers, and there are just different life issues that come up in those stages. I would love to have one or two older folks in my group, but I want mothers to have a special welcome so they won’t feel isolated.

The current plan is to use the cabana in my apartments’ office building as our gathering place. It is lovely, and has space. If/when my home gets clean and welcoming enough I might someday be able to have meetings here. That would take a lot of courage, though. Most members of my church are high-middle-class, and might feel uncomfortable with the level of comfort I’m able to provide. I guess we’ll see how that goes if/when we ever come to it.

Until then, I’m just happy to think of getting a wonderful new chance to be involved in such a positive way in building our community. 3 months ago

This gives me hope. I’ve mapped out my home on graph paper, and all my furniture. I rearranged everything to where all the rooms look functional and have good flow. I found out I need to rid myself of many pieces of furniture that once worked in my old home, but in this home are just clutter. They’re in the way, keeping us from enjoying the space we have. So I’ve made the commitment to get rid of them.

It’s really REALLY awkward to even consider getting rid of the center (elbow) section of a sectional couch, but that’s what I have to do. As long as I live here, that piece will never fit. When I move elsewhere, I’m just going to have to face budgeting to buy a new couch if necessary and not assume the couch I’ve got will fit any other living room.

I’ve figured out how to build stilts under my son’s bed using just a few pieces of 2×4 lumber which Lowes hardware was kind enough to both sell and cut for me. I’ll store boxes under there.

I will rearrange the junk room and make it into a functional sewing/crafting room. I’ve given up the dream that it will ever be a bedroom. It really is almost too small to fit a bed into anyway, and doing so would leave me with nowhere to keep and use so much that is deeply important to me. My son and I have both accepted that one of us will always sleep on the couch, and we’re pretty much okay with that. We take turns getting to use the bed in “his” room. Honestly, though, usually my son is so sweet he kindly lets his old mother use the bed, which is softer and has a heated sheet. I’m very lucky he is so unselfish and considerate, especially during these cold months or when I feel sick. I’m happy that his resilient 12 yo body is able to spring back from a night on the couch easily without any aches and pains as I might have.

My daughter keeps the master bedroom. She’s 21 and needs as much space and privacy as I can give her, to make up for having less autonomy than she craves. She understands the reasons why moving away is not the right decision for either her or the family, and is staying of her own free will, not because I’m forcing her. But I don’t want to cause any friction that might be avoided. So she gets the largest bedroom (11’x12’) and her own full bath. It’s a decent compromise. She has decided to pare down her own furnishings too, letting go of a large table and a couch that used to fit in her old bedroom. Now she’ll have a small table and comfy chair. But it will be enough. Her room will have space to walk, and she can focus on buying artwork, new bedding, and other things she loves.

The goal in this whole program is that the house should be open and welcoming. There should be no more boxes in public view, or in places that restrict ease of use or movement in a room. I should have specific areas to control my crafting habits, so they don’t spread throughout the house. We will have a functional office area with a new file and all papers and supplies organized. We will buy a new computer, freeing up the use of the laptop to my daughter in her room. All this is happening right now. I will report progress as it happens. I can’t take photos because I’ve lost my camera again, but when I find it I will share snaps of anything I’m particularly proud of.

We took a van full of stuff to Goodwill yesterday. I hope to have another van full to go next week. Emptying the house of things that do not serve us in this phase of life is a beautiful and freeing experience! Letting go of what we no longer need is all about coming to grips with the fact that life has moved on, and what once gave support may now be a burden. We embrace the home we have NOW, and learn to live happily in it.

OSOJI! 3 months ago

I’m one of those people who thinks it’s neat-o when numbers align in a pattern. I just noticed that when I receive 25 more cheers, I’ll have exactly 12,345 cheers. Somehow that thought makes me smile. :) 3 months ago

Thank you to all my friends who’ve sent me letters and cheers during these weeks/months when I’ve been so down. I’m checking in now to say I’m still alive and not any worse. I think maybe I am past the worst of my depression, and may have the glimmer of hope on the horizon.

I don’t feel “better”. But at least I don’t feel like I’m stlll sliding downwards. I’m beginning to think about things I might hope for. I’m beginning to think perhaps I can make a few changes that will help. Nothing big yet, but it is more than I had a little while back.

My chest is hurting. I went to the hospital to have it checked out, and all tests confirm I am NOT having a heart attack. This is more a skeleto-muscular or cartilagenous thing. My breastbone just feels like I’ve been kicked, though I don’t know why. My heart is fine, though, so doctors say I should just take two aspirin and call them if anything changes.

The last time I checked in here I saw that one of our dear friends had died. It made me feel ashamed for complaining, when I am NOT on any obvious brink of death. She had huge plans and hopes and intentions for her life. She knew she was very sick, but still worked as hard as she could to be positive to herself and everyone around her, and to fulfil meaningful dreams. I have nothing wrong with me, really, except my brains are scrambled from internal torment. But that is enough to stop me. I can’t help it, or at least I think I can’t help it. But seeing my own weakness makes me loathe to even post here anymore, for fear of how pathetic such a comparison shows me to be. The least I could do was give a few moments of silence and allow issues to be shared that really mattered, rather than burdening an already grieving community with my pettiness.

I’m posting now just so that nobody need worry. I’m glad I can report that a change seems to be in the wind for me. Maybe it will dawn with spring. It is not here yet, but the days are lengthening. I bought a few primroses last week. Their cheerful colors make me think hope is an eternal wellspring. It slows to a faint trickle sometimes, but can never be fully stopped. In the face of a cold winter, somewhere there is a God of Flowers who is laughing with joy as he paints his most vibrant hues onto this improbable blossom. Somehow I know this means that everything is going to be okay again someday. 3 months ago

I’ve recieved many sweet and supportive notes since my last entry. I’m sorry I haven’t had the heart to answer.

I’m not feeling any better. My days pass with me finding every way possible not to feel anything. I distract myself with stupid computer games or watching videos. I do hand crafts a lot. They’re good to help keep me calm when I feel panicky.

I’ve written a will. I don’t know how legal it is, but it’s in pen, in my own handwriting, and I signed and dated it. I don’t have much to bequeath. I guess the most important thing was who I want to raise my son after I’m gone.

Sometimes I take sleeping pills both to combat headaches, and to help me sleep through my days. I just want to get past them. I don’t have anything much to look forward to, but choir and knitting club at least get me out of the house and give me a change of pace.

I don’t think most of my friends know what’s going on with me. I don’t know how to tell them. I don’t think any of them would be willing or able to help. They see me smiling and think I’m fine. I’m just being polite. It’s the holiday season. Nobody wants a downer around.

I know I’ll feel better again someday, if I don’t die first. Things do tend to cycle. But this downward ebb is taking several months. It doesn’t feel anywhere near done yet, either. I think I have several months left to slog through.

What I really want is to have lots of friends to take me out of myself. I’m getting sick of my own mental furniture, and need a change of scenery. I need something to do, but it needs to not be exhausting. I get exhausted so easily lately. I have maybe three good hours a day to do something simple like shopping or cleaning. Beyond that, I just need to lie down. But it would be nice if two or three times a week I had a friend to pal around with, and not feel so much pressure all alone. 5 months ago

I’ve been growing more and more depressed lately. It has been on me for several weeks. Maybe several months. It seems to be getting worse. I can’t seem to do anything about it or shake it at all.

Not every moment is bad. I feel bland. Sometimes I feel like I’m on the brink of tears, but they never happen. I feel pain, which sometimes seems physical but more often seems psychic. I do laugh sometimes. But then, I always did used to be able to laugh sometimes, no matter how deep my depressions ever got.

I find it difficult to move. I feel my brain is foggy. Hard to think really straight. I am tormented by constant recitals in my mind of nasty things to say to myself.

I feel lonely. I want to have friends to help bring me out of this funk, but I have nobody to contact. Nobody is available to me. Nobody thinks I’m interesting or fun.

I am trying to plan activities at church, because I hope if I’m at least active maybe I’ll find a sense of belonging and being needed. Trying to keep myself anchored. But all I feel is a sense that nobody likes any of my ideas or input. Nobody really respects me or understands me. Folks would be glad to let me work, but not to make any decisions. I don’t feel like being a donkey doing work for them, though. I don’t think I owe them anything. I’ve worked for them many times, but have gotten very little recognition or approval for it. Working doesn’t bring respect. So I don’t want to do it anymore.

My headaches have returned worse than usual. Seems I can’t even hope to find a cure there, either. Or even a way to control them. Nothing I do matters. Nothing helps.

I have a presentiment that I’m going to die. I feel like my life is short, and I’m going to die soon. I’m sad to think that my life will end with so little to show for it. I wish I’d been able to do more. I guess in most ways that can be measured I am a failure. That’s such a depressing thought.

Rest assured I am not suicidal. I will not kill myself. But I’m afraid something sudden is going to take me. Maybe a heart attack or stroke, or something like that. I just have this forboding that my life is almost over, and there are so many things I never did. Nothing I can do about it now, either. I can’t find true love. I can’t travel the world. I can’t bring interesting teachings to thousands. I can’t lose weight.

Sometimes people die and are failures. Sometimes that’s just the way it is. 5 months ago

Happily, I was able to find a way yesterday of expressing myself to Mr. Navy that was measured and not accusatory. I said what I perceived the situation to be, and that it confused me why it would be that way since it seemed counterintuitive that he would reject my help or intend to imply that my skills were lacking. He explained that he had plenty of respect for my talent and appreciation of my willingness to help. It was a misunderstanding. He had thought something I said before implied that I did not want to help, and that nobody else in the choir was interested in the sewing or design phase.

What caused the misunderstanding was that I was a bit too self-depreciating. In the initial discussion phase of this project the question was raised “who would sew these”. I had said that I was unsure whether I would be able to handle it, because I have limited skill. I can sew a straight line, but nothing fancy. By that I meant I am well able to handle a simple design, but would not be able to make the stoles if folks expect them to be embroidered, quilted, applique’ed, or have other elite embellishments. But heck yeah! straight lines I can do.

So now I’m on the team. I have made a case why I think the design process still needs to include the rest of the choir, but have also outlined how I would handle that, and assured Mr. Navy that it could be a relatively quick and painless process to make some samples we could vote on before beginning earnest production possibly by the end of this week. I’m pretty sure that will be an acceptable solution for everyone. And I’m thrilled that I’ll still have the resource of the two sewers who’ve already volunteered to make these. Between the three of us I know we can get these stoles produced very quickly, because many hands make light work!

I’ve taken the trouble to sketch out what I see as the potential design variables, and how each would be accommodated. None are complex. Just slight issues of length, width, and choice of how the ends will look. I’ve also figured out how we can offer a variety of lengths, so everyone from the shortest to the tallest of us can find an appropriate size to wear.

I have to admit that at this point I’m glad I have possession of the fabric. I’m enough of a control freak to want nobody else cutting and sewing on this yet, before a decision has been made that we all agree to. I understand some folks’ desire to expedite production and not get bogged down, but too much haste can mean less progress if things are not done to mutual satisfaction. I think the current plan shows a good balance of all these needs. I’m very excited to think that the first stoles may be wearable as soon as the Sunday after next!

I’m also excited because since getting involved with the sewing part of this project I have figured out an improvement to the design. This may seem obvious to anyone familiar with stoles at all, but we are winging this, so we missed it at first. I will be starching the fabric, and ironing on interfacing to give the stoles some body, as well as insisting that they all be topstitched. That way they won’t end up as floppy scarves, but will keep their shape and look good for years. They’ll hang nice and flat against the body, resist dirt, and not wrinkle easily. It’s obvious, once you think of it! That’s my favorite kind of innovation. 6 months ago