He’s just too much. It’s like I’m living with a teenager. And it’s really ethereal; he gets on your nerves in this really subtle, papercut way. Tiny actions that add up.
He doesn’t pick up after himself, he leaves the water filter empty, he puts his dirty runners on the couch, he never washes the dishes, he comes home past 2am drunk every night – you can hear him staggering into bed, reeking of cigarettes.
That part? I can tolerate that.
Hard to believe, but it’s true.
I can tolerate all of it.
It’s the subtle shit that makes me want to blow my brains out.
He never asks me how I’m doing, he never asks how my day went. He walks into a room, interrupts a conversation and starts talking about the failed connection he just had with this woman and that.
But get this.
He doesn’t see it as a failure; there’s a kind of delusions of grandeur happening. Time and time again, women have shown in their very mercurial, catlike, non-confrontational ways: they’re not interested.
So, why don’t you get it?
They don’t write back. They don’t call back. They ignore you. Broken promises. They say thanks but no thanks by not saying it.
That part would make me wanna blow my brains out too.
Women suck at communicating with the opposite sex. Period. Continue reading “you’re not alone”
I found this writing on stillness within my journal notes from 2011. To think I’ve been on this train since then…
Stillness is the ground of being from which all else emerges.
It is within and behind every breath, every thought, every action.
It is my starting point, my resting place, the home base to which I can return again, and again.
In stillness I notice how time and space disappear.
All there is is the present moment and my willingness to listen …
To allow the stillness to speak.
The stillness takes me into a realm of conscious awareness
that transcends my identity as body or mind.
Stillness offers an experience of being
and a recognition that my being …
my essence …
is a part of all Being, all Essence.
– Meditation and Rituals of Conscious Living
Nancy J. Napier & Carolyn Tricomi
A remote tribe in the southern part of Africa was discovered to employ a unique tactic for righting a wrong:
When a person acts irresponsibly or unjustly, he is placed in the center of the village, alone and unfettered. All work ceases, while every man, woman, and child in the village gathers in a large circle around the accused individual.
Then, one at a time, each person in the tribe steps in front of the accused and recalls a positive deed the person in the circle has done in his lifetime. All of his positive attributes, good deeds, strengths, and kindnesses are recited carefully and at length. This ceremony can last for several days.
At the end, the circle is broken, a joyous celebration takes place, and the person is welcomed back into the good graces of the tribe.
A month since my birthday.
The birth of this body, this time, this heart, this mind.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reflect.
A time for silliness.
Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all in place.
Skin taut and elastic (for now).
Heart wide open.
Mind even more expansive than yesterday.
Curiosity killed the cat, not quite yet.
Here’s to failing.
And failing again.
And failing one more time.
Continue reading “a month since”
The day has come.
My man returns.
Like a marathoner, I have ripped through the silk ribbon finale.
Ok, now give me my medallion.
The fear of going at this kid alone.
The fear of having to entertain, maintain, and remain a diligent parent –
The fear of him take, take, taking from me –
It lives larger in my head.
When are you gonna realize, he’s a good boy.
A kind, generous, loving, boy.
No high maintenance here.
And yet, I keep thinking he’ll take, take, take from me.
Continue reading “take take take”
“The clock of life is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour
Now is the only time we own
Live, love, toil with a will
Don’t wait until tomorrow
For the clock may then be still.”