Just listen to your own heart. This is your only teacher. ~Osho~
Are you listening?
Just listen to your own heart. This is your only teacher. ~Osho~
Are you listening?
alternate sexual realities…
If you live with unhealthy people, to be healthy is dangerous. If you live with insane people, then to be sane is dangerous. If you live in a madhouse, even if you are not mad at least pretend that you are mad; otherwise those mad people will kill you.
Not once but twice in the past week I’ve had this conversation with people about levels of drama. Not just in my own house and in some cases by my own hand (where I escalated because of anger), but by others around me dealing with intimate (but not necessarily sexual) relationship(s).
As I watch the constant drama around me unfold in various ways with various people over time this past year, I have been thinking about how invested we are into ensuring more and more drama in our lives.
Do we create drama in order to have something to invest in where there is nothing (or nothing more) to invest in? Because what I SEE is that while we talk a good game, we fail miserably to actually apply this to ourselves on all levels and particularly where we get “pulled in” by others into their drama.
And when one drama is resolved to our satisfaction, do we create another?
Are we so invested in panic, chaos and disorder, we go our of our way to make it so?
So why? Why do we work so stinking hard at creating messes to be taken care of in our lives?
Control where we have none? Insecurities? Fear? We have to make up for something lacking in our lives? Is that in lieu of experiencing life itself? What?
How much drama do you have in your life?
How much is made by your own hand? When did you realize your part in this? Do you still do this…..engage that drama?
How much do you tolerate from others?
At what point do you say, enough is fucking enough, and refuse to participate? Is it simply that we suck at setting our own boundaries except the really uncrossable ones, but always easily see where others don’t set theirs? At what point do you realize being supportive to others has nothing to do with investing yourself in their continual drama? How do we remain supportive and not get involved? Can we do that without indicating we just don’t want to hear the continual drama anymore? At what point do you walk away?
I do wish this had a separate “journal” type feature.
Or am I missing something here? Any way to do this without making more pages stacked under a main page?
“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.”
what I am not willing to do:
attempt to make you choose
compete for you
tell you what you want to hear
be someone I’m not for anyone’s benefit
be dishonest about how I feel, regardless of what I feel
betray your confidence.
what I am willing to do:
give you all of me when we are together
love you as I always have; unconditionally.
That’s all. It’s that simple.
How invested are you?
Do you write your fairytale or do you live it?
Don’t bother, you won’t find what you chase.
Happiness chases us. We only have to stop long enough for it to wrap its joyful arms around us…like love…it’s there with us all along, right behind us, waking the same path.
How long will you run?
Like a bad stain on your favorite blouse, lies eventually come out in the wash. Yet, the faint discoloration of deceit lingers in the fibers.
lather, rinse, repeat…..
Who am I? Why do I write?
I don’t remember a time not writing. First letters, first words, first sentences, first cards to Mommy, letters to Grandpa, stories about vacations, pink pubescent diaries, obligatory poetry, reports with the circles and arrows of proper citations, thesis papers, newspaper articles, “just the facts ma’am” reports to the boss. Journals line the shelves of the bookcase in my room.
Now, I live in a home with a writer. Our words fill the house, beat by discordant beat. The tension of our existence reverberates against the walls. Her: the night owl extrovert. Me: the sunrise introvert. Her words: soft, lyrical, renaissance metaphors of castles built on sand sung with the incessant clacky clack on a cheap plastic keyboard. My words: raw, terse, cutting, emotion filled cadence of drum beats marching line after line and sung over the scratch-ity scratch of pencil to paper.
I, like many other writers I know, self-depreciate with a vengeance. We edit unmercifully with angst over every word, every sentence. We procrastinate. Scared to start and scared to finish. I used to think my perfectionism was a strength. Now I’m not so sure. No, I am sure. Perfectionism stalls me with the fear of vulnerability and ancient shame of not-good-enough. Perfectionism prevents me from moving forward by letting go and proclaiming to myself, “more than good enough”. Begone you, shame and fear have no power here. Yet they still exist in the shadows of my mind where I write under the radar of scrutiny and vulnerability.
Why do I write? I write to ease the demons. A story in my soul, a story to be told…
What if you slept? And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed? And what if, in your dream, you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if, when you awoke, you had the flower in your hand? Ah, what then?”
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge~
Tonight…To sleep: perchance to dream…
Based on your prior posts, your interpretation of how to deal with things you can’t control in life was : “Once you are able to honor others choices without taking it personally, you will be at peace”. What if others choices is against your beliefs? How would you define “boundaries” in a relationships and how can we “stand up” for our rights if we should honor others choices?
Honoring others choices will often mean that they are in conflict with your own choices and beliefs. If their views agree with yours, then there is nothing that challenges you to broaden your perspective. To honor another’s choices that you disagree with means that even though they have come to a different position from yours, you can understand and respect the different experiences and backgrounds that have led to their choices. This is the cornerstone of all successful conflict resolution.
Standing up for your rights and boundaries will vary from one person to the other depending upon how they interpret what are their rights and the boundaries of their self. For adults in the process of healing a past of childhood abuse, they will feel many typical human interactions violate of their rights and boundaries that others without that background wouldn’t necessarily feel. But as we heal our past, the sense of rights and boundaries tends to shift away from a defensive stance toward more of a simple knowingness of what is important to your growth and joy and life and maintaining a focus on that and not worrying about conflicting opinions. Everyone is entitled to their own views, their own path of growth, their own life choices, just as you are. When you can honor that, in spite of it being different than your own path, then it makes life more peaceful and enjoyable, and the boundary issues take care of themselves.
Bombs dropped in conversation to me but mentioned as conversation with another, are not ok.
I was talking to him this weekend and he said he knows I want to move back to Denver. Blink
All my friends, the kids and my mother were trying to convince me to move back to Denver yesterday. Blink
I’ll probably move back to Denver, but I don’t know what’s going on yet. Blink
I was talking to my BFF and she said she knows I want my own place. Blink
I told her that I probably couldn’t take that job right right now; I don’t know what I would do with the lease . Blink
And…..hints dropped puts the responsibility on me to now ask questions in lieu of actually talking TO me about this openly and honestly?
And…..it comes off as using me for your convenience for as long as you need.
And…..if I make a decision based on the “hints” all too willingly provided it turns into a potential blame situation later when it doesn’t mesh with what you want because you’ve never really said what you want?
Yah. I’m more than annoyed. As annoyed as if I did this to her.
So next time you slam him for doing the same to you….????
Oh yeah, it’s called mentioning it lightly.
Meaning, it’s now your responsibility to try to figure out what I really mean. and then blame me later when I don’t get it right.
It’s passive-aggressive and disingenuous.
Dreams continue to invade my normally sound sleep. Last night, the night before, and the night before that, too. When it happens it’s always the same. I wake in the wee hours of the morning trying to process the remaining images flooding my mind. Laying in the dark; ice cubes tumbling into the freezer tray, branches creaking in the wind, the heater fan kicking on and off.
My room is warm despite having no curtains on the window. From my bed I can see city lights along the base of the hills. Fingers of light stretch high up the mountain.
And then, the inevitable; flicking on the small bed side lamp because no amount of adjusting pillows, changing position, or attempted meditation mind-space will give me sleep.
I’ve learned to not fight it so hard.
So I drink hot tea sweetened with honey and read, or write.
Soon the sun’s rays will lighten the hills to the west…