abandon all of my goals and just live

This weekend was astonishing. We had a gallery show as a culmination of the six month mentorship. I made a vow to share my art and keep creating. I stood by my painting, as did the other eight women, and talked about the legendary figure and read an excerpt from the Legendary Chronicles of Tiisi and one of my poems. I received applause and people sought me out to tell me how much they liked my work. In the circle on Saturday morning, I told the group that my breakthrough was a breakdown: I finally admitted how tired I am, how I abuse myself relentlessly in the effort to become something more or different than the wonderful me that exists. I cried a lot on Friday and some on Saturday. On Sunday I went to the beach with my sister and we both cried at different points.

Yesterday I was driving home and had one of those impossible-to-describe pronoiac moments when it was clear the whole wide world was trying to make me happy. There was a person on a small motorcycle who looked like an anime figure. It was impossible to tell gender, their clothes were red, white, black and immaculate and their physical anatomy perfectly symmetrical and graceful. The heat had broken. I was in traffic, tired, hungry and at peace. I felt irresistible. It was, literally, divine.

I did a lot last night. Got groceries, washed my hair, uploaded my Chronicles to the group website, edited all the pics from this weekend and uploaded them and posted a poem on two sites. I was going to test drive a car tonight, but Mr. Yes called me in the middle of the day, which he has never done, just to hear my voice because he missed me so. (We didn’t have any time together this weekend and haven’t seen each other for a week.) I’m going to go home, pay a bill, shower, eat and then meet him when he’s done at the gym. I’ll test drive the car next week or late Thursday. Heck, if I go right before the dealership closes, they’ll have less time to harass me.

I told my boss about the mentorship and my Chronicles and the painting and she wants me to write it up and send a picture for the Epistle, our monthly newsletter, so that the parishioners of the church will know more about me and my faith journey. Friends here on 43T reached out to me when I wrote about feeling lost and lonely. Mr. Yes has made sure I know, in his words, that I have his love and he’s always thinking of me. I’m feeling very supported and loved. I’m spending time in the body/soul/heart/mind I am, instead of whipping myself to catch up to some better version of me I thought I could become if I tried a little harder. I’m realizing how very tired I am and resting.

One of the big lessons was that I was trying to surrender, sure that was what I needed to do. Well, do and surrender don’t work together. I thought I knew that I needed to be still, be quiet, blahblahNewAgePlatitudeblahblah, when the absolute truth is that I had no idea what I needed to do or not do. When I gave up – no enlightened surrender, just good old fashioned throw up my hands giving up – my essential joyful nature popped to the surface like a cork. There is power in saying,”I don’t know what to do” and not doing anything at all until you do know, or see more clearly. I want to remember that.

I’m leaving the nest.

I’ve had such a swell time here, I’m dearly going to miss this place, yet I’ve been hovering over this goal for quite some time, knowing that it was coming, but not really knowing when.

I want to be quiet and to listen to myself. Completely still, ready, open. For all the good things. All the good things that I’m only going to run in to if I venture out from my little listy nest.

I have habits to break, hands to hold, places to see, people to love, and many, many things to learn. And I hope I can come back here, a little less obsessive and perhaps a little wiser, and share my adventures with you all some day.

Until then, stay awesome my 43T friends.

Much love,
Kitty

PS I won’t actually be deleting my account, as I don’t like the idea of losing record and I really don’t want people to see a gaping hole where my comments once were. But I won’t be checking in on the site at all(too much temptation) for quite some time.

xx

I’ve been in a difficult mood the last few weeks. I feel ravenous for connection to the Divine but am terrified that if I spend time in still silence, there will be nothing there but me. I don’t know how to describe it to those who don’t believe in a divine presence, but I am lonely in a soul-deep way.

On the way to Mr. Yes’s last night, I got a long string of green lights, an unprecedented occurrence in suburbia. I prompted myself to verbalize my gratitude and it struck me as odd that I was trying to be grateful. I am naturally grateful. Why make it into a spiritual task? Why am I trying to be anything that I’m not? It’s relentless. I am constantly trying to be more compassionate, patient, loving, generous, productive, spiritual, authentic, etc., etc., ad nauseum. I am endlessly disappointed in myself, to the point of dismissing myself as hopeless and worthless. That’s not hyperbole. Sometimes, although I know others find worth in me, my whole life seems a meaningless exercise in straining toward making myself into someone who deserves life and happiness. The obvious worth that I find in others I am unable to see in myself.

I told Mr. Yes last night that I was spiritually exhausted. He didn’t understand. He pointed out the good things in my life and told me not to worry. I couldn’t make him see how I felt. He has changed a lot in the past three years, has released unhealthy patterns of anger and anxiety and is now at a place where as long as his child and he are healthy and housed and his job is secure, he’s at peace. PEACE. That’s what I want. Peace. And I can’t find it by striving or doing. I need to fall still, be silent and listen. Yet the fear of hearing nothing pushes me into frantic action. I feel like a lost swimmer at sea who will sink if I flail any longer; I must float to survive.

It hurt that he didn’t understand, that he didn’t ask questions, that I couldn’t communicate it to him. He sympathizes with my pain, but he doesn’t get it. We speak entirely different languages when it comes to our spirituality. I understand what he means when he tells me to let it go. All of this trying reinforces the idea that who I am is not enough, that I have to become someone different and better in order to be happy and worthy of love and peace.

I surrender. I will go into stillness and silence and listen, whether I find the Divine or only myself. I’ll continue my poem a day. When I write it, I tune into a voice inside but not from me. The words come through me. That, and the calm happiness I feel when I look at the beauty of nature, are the closest I come to peace and divine connection. As for my other goals, I’ll let them sit on the list. There’s a part of me in each of them.

I am going to be who I am. Nothing more or better than that. I’ve stopped swimming. Now we’ll see if I sink or I float.

at this non-goal goal. I believe this is a time for stillness and rest. And yet…

I feel restless in a way that’s rapidly approaching frantic.

I wish I could just enjoy, relax into an ebb tide, let go, float, flow and all those nice hippie things I’m being told to do, both internally and by friends and family. I observe the restlessness without hurling myself into mindless activity, for the most part. It’s f’ing torture, for the record. Settling comfortably into any one phase of life feels unnatural to me. I’m waiting for the next set of changes. I know my dad’s death will be a rough transition for all of us and it makes sense to rest up and not commit to new activities, classes, explorations that will take up more than a little time and energy.

Apparently, sense isn’t my strong suit. Or perhaps it makes more sense to listen to my nature and plunge into a new enterprise, knowing I may need to abandon it when my father’s decline accelerates. My mind is jumbled. I try to stay still until I have clarity, but what if my clarity comes through action, effort, learning, change, new places, people, challenges?

for the rest of 2008. I’m not going to try to better myself. I’m going to enjoy my life, which is pretty damn good, and observe my natural and chosen responses. I’m tired. Exhausted, really. Not physically, but emotionally. Tired of trying to be more, better, less when who I am is spectacular.

That’s right. Spectacular.

For the rest of 2008, as an experiment, I’m going to assume that I am what those who love me see: brave, smart, sexy, loving, amazing, kind, etc. The goals that are left on my list are those that give me pleasure. Anything that made me think of obligation or a perceived lack in me, along with some goals that just aren’t priorities right now, has been pruned.

I woke up shaky this morning. I thought it might have been from low blood sugar after a fair amount of ^ohsofunactivity and too little sleep and food, but it’s lasted all day. My heart is pounding and I’m out of breath. Combine those symptoms with the recent outburst of guilt (verging on panic) and it seems a good time to unfocus. Float. Drift. Flow. Be my usual efficient self at work, do the few routine chores I do at home, shoot loving texts and emails to my people and continue to hug on Mr. Yes, but not try to accomplish anything else.

I’m picking up a friend from NC at the airport on Thursday night. He’ll be staying with me Friday, then back Mon & Tues, then back Friday night so I can take him to the airport Saturday morning. I plan to do a lot of nothing with him. Mr. Yes was talking about taking him out and showing him some SF nightlife. We’ll see. If I need more down time, I’ll throw my guest on the train to the city and go home to take a nap. Mr. Yes is going to come with me on Thursday, which is a godsend, as I’ve always flown out of Oakland and my friend is coming into SF. It will also be good to have someone to help wrangle my friend, who will be jonesing for nicotine and bourbon and is a generally cranky guy who’s terrified of flying.

Too tired to read this over and see if it made sense. I’m going to bed. May not be on here much next week so I can take care of myself and regain energy.

Yesterday was a marathon day, nonstop from 6:30am, when we got the news that Mr. Man’s dad had died, until about 11:30, when we went to bed. Cleaning and making arrangments and driving around to get food and find people and phone calls and such. I finally got a chance to talk to my parents for the first time since I found out that my dad has been fainting and they’ve had to adjust his meds. My dad is pretty miserable and my sister and I think he may need to go off the treatment meds and let the cancer take its course. We got a lot of extra innings. I know quality of life is his primary concern right now, so if he keeps having such awful side effects, I’m sure he’ll stop treatment.

Needless to say, I haven’t worked on anything more goal-related than “find .75 for pretzels from the vending machine” for the last week and a half. I’m taking tonight to get some stuff done in my life so I can be there for Mr. Man at the memorial tomorrow. I barely remember my apartment and how it felt to stay there overnight. I’m trying to get regular sleep and meals and I’m back at work today. Since I can’t be of immediate service to my parents from 3,000 miles away, it’s nice to be able to help his family.

I’m stretched a little thinner than I like but trying to keep it in balance.

I haven’t felt like posting for a while. I haven’t felt like keeping tabs on myself, trying to “get it right”, coaxing or bribing or bullying myself to do things. And I’ve been kinda avoiding 43T because I felt a bit of a fraud being here when I wasn’t really working on anything on my list.

I feel fine, not at all down or discouraged or even particularly unmotivated; if anything I’m actually doing a bit better with some of my goals than I usually do when I am posting about them, but it’s in a very natural, unforced kinda way – when it happens it’s great, and when it doesn’t happen, that’s ok too. Maybe it’s the time of year, a kind of slowing down and drawing in. I’m certainly feeling the hibernating impulse – I’m really enjoying getting home each evening, drawing the curtains to shut the world out, and curling up with a blanket and a book.

So I’m giving myself permission to take a break and just coast for a while. I’ll still be here, enjoying the posts and company of my friends, but I’m not going to beat myself up over not doing anything particular myself. I trust my get-up-and-go to come back when the time is right.

I’m going to utterly neglect my goals next week. From October 1st to October 8th, I’m going to fully embrace “good enough.” I’ll still be posting here. I just won’t try to achieve a thing except keeping my job and staying alive.

No unravelling my unhealthy thought patterns. No watching what I eat and feeling guilty about doing too little and not exercising. No attempts to discover what I want in a job, a relationship, a spiritual connection or the world around me. Just me. Living my life.

I predict more napping and a messy apartment.

met up with old friends.
ate whatever we wanted.
wasn’t online and didn’t touch computer for 48 hours.
had bed picnic.
just enjoyed the days. ...
let my soul be free..