Holding:
Deep connection and profound loneliness
Ecstacy and profound wounding
Hope and hopelessness
Love and rage
Wonder and spaciness
Desire for knowledge and a filled cup
Knowing all and knowing nothing
Oneness, me-ness, us-ness, and you-ness
Stillness and reckless abandon
Left brain and right brain
Indifference and weighty concern
Thirst and hunger
Longing without knowing for what
Satiation and desire
How can one hold this? All of this? Simultaneously. I'm not sure, but it's happening.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Sunday, January 4, 2015
New Year and Discipline
The holidays were tough this year, as they have been since KC has been gone, but this year it has been different and worse. About 3 weeks before Thanksgiving my dad told me that he had renal cancer and would have to have surgery to remove his left kidney. To add to this, he said I couldn't tell anyone about it. I was sitting at the dinner table with my parents, my sister, brother-in-law, and niece and my dad dropped this bomb. As soon as I heard the words "I have cancer" my vision blurred, my temperature rose, and I stopped hearing everything else that he said. I soon got up and ran to the bathroom to throw up; as if my body thought it could extinguish the bad news. My father has had the surgery and is doing quite well, but I can't shake the feeling of foreboding.
This news and the surgery obviously affected my Thanksgiving celebration. We still had the dinner we usually have, but it was tainted. It felt different. The food was different as Pop wasn't able to prepare the entire meal as he usually does and other people provided the bulk of the feast. It was nice to have everyone, and obviously I am grateful that Pop is hangin in there, but shit, man. The foreboding. It's there and it's real.
A short couple weeks later was four years since KC passed, and then two days later it was my 31st birthday. My birthday was on a Saturday this year, however, it was a grad school weekend, so that Friday, Saturday and Sunday were 12 hour school days. Though my cohort at school was incredibly kind and ritualized my day in an unbelievable showing of love and appreciation, it wasn't the same as celebrating my birthday with my family and my friends as I usually do. I felt a little like my birthday was skipped this year.
The last week of work before winter break is always brutal. The kids were crazy and I was at my wits end, aching for Friday afternoon and the freedom that awaited me. Freedom finally came, and I woke up with a terrible cold that first Saturday morning of my vacation. Mind you, this was a working vacation, as I have 4 papers due tomorrow for school, but it was a vacation nonetheless. Yet, it was just a cold...how bad could it be, right? Wrong. I am still sick. There have been days here and there in the last two weeks where I thought I was getting better and over it, but it has fallen back to the nastiness and I still can't shake it. The worst part is that I had laryngitis as well, and it was at its worst on Christmas Day, forcing me to stay home alone while my family celebrated together, without me. My Christmas was spent barely conscious on a couch all by myself, unable to talk.
I realize I am sounding like a whiny little kid, here. Trust me, I am fucking sick of myself too. But I am affected by this. Being sick for so long has taken away experiences from me. It even affected the papers I have had to write, as being so sick for so long apparently has a dramatic affect on cognitive functioning (who knew?). But the point is, as I am looking at a brand new year, I have had a lot of time to think about how I want to make this year better than the last, and broaden my experiences. I have been trying to think of a word to encompass all aspects of my life that I want to improve. The best that I can come up with is discipline. If I can be disciplined, I will maximize the use of my time in my work and school. I will be in charge of my health and fitness. I will have space in my domicile. I will limit my spending to save for the things that really matter to me, like travel, family, and education. And maybe, if I am lucky, it will spill over into my romantic endeavors too and I will be able to make time and take chances to aim toward a better life for myself.
So, this year, I aim toward discipline. I will manifest 2015 in the best way possible and change habits that no longer serve me. Discipline, kids. The name if the 2015 game.
Wishing you a connected, disciplined, and empowered year.
This news and the surgery obviously affected my Thanksgiving celebration. We still had the dinner we usually have, but it was tainted. It felt different. The food was different as Pop wasn't able to prepare the entire meal as he usually does and other people provided the bulk of the feast. It was nice to have everyone, and obviously I am grateful that Pop is hangin in there, but shit, man. The foreboding. It's there and it's real.
A short couple weeks later was four years since KC passed, and then two days later it was my 31st birthday. My birthday was on a Saturday this year, however, it was a grad school weekend, so that Friday, Saturday and Sunday were 12 hour school days. Though my cohort at school was incredibly kind and ritualized my day in an unbelievable showing of love and appreciation, it wasn't the same as celebrating my birthday with my family and my friends as I usually do. I felt a little like my birthday was skipped this year.
The last week of work before winter break is always brutal. The kids were crazy and I was at my wits end, aching for Friday afternoon and the freedom that awaited me. Freedom finally came, and I woke up with a terrible cold that first Saturday morning of my vacation. Mind you, this was a working vacation, as I have 4 papers due tomorrow for school, but it was a vacation nonetheless. Yet, it was just a cold...how bad could it be, right? Wrong. I am still sick. There have been days here and there in the last two weeks where I thought I was getting better and over it, but it has fallen back to the nastiness and I still can't shake it. The worst part is that I had laryngitis as well, and it was at its worst on Christmas Day, forcing me to stay home alone while my family celebrated together, without me. My Christmas was spent barely conscious on a couch all by myself, unable to talk.
I realize I am sounding like a whiny little kid, here. Trust me, I am fucking sick of myself too. But I am affected by this. Being sick for so long has taken away experiences from me. It even affected the papers I have had to write, as being so sick for so long apparently has a dramatic affect on cognitive functioning (who knew?). But the point is, as I am looking at a brand new year, I have had a lot of time to think about how I want to make this year better than the last, and broaden my experiences. I have been trying to think of a word to encompass all aspects of my life that I want to improve. The best that I can come up with is discipline. If I can be disciplined, I will maximize the use of my time in my work and school. I will be in charge of my health and fitness. I will have space in my domicile. I will limit my spending to save for the things that really matter to me, like travel, family, and education. And maybe, if I am lucky, it will spill over into my romantic endeavors too and I will be able to make time and take chances to aim toward a better life for myself.
So, this year, I aim toward discipline. I will manifest 2015 in the best way possible and change habits that no longer serve me. Discipline, kids. The name if the 2015 game.
Wishing you a connected, disciplined, and empowered year.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
4
It has been four years since I have seen you. You’ve been
gone longer than I knew you. It has been
four year since you held my hand, kissed my mouth, told me you loved me, made
me feel safe, made me believe in true love, made me believe, everyday, that I
deserved it. It seems like it was all at the same time just yesterday that you
died, and a million years since I have seen you, touched you, bathed in your
presence and love.
What is it about four that feels so significant? Why does four feel so big?
The number four is loaded with symbolism. In some realms it is representative of the
fourth dimension, time, which is said to be an illusion. That would explain the
contradictory feelings of how long if feels that KC has actually been
gone. Four is connection, completion,
four seasons four elements. In Buddhist
culture, the The Damba Tree of Life has four limbs and four roots that are fed
by four streams. The Greeks equate the
number four with the God Hermes, son of Zeus and Maia. Hermes is the messenger god who communicates
with all other gods and the guide for the dead to the underworld. Hermes held
the number four sacred as he was born in the fourth month, as was KC.
In Egypt, the number four is considered the sacred number of
time in reference to the sun. Numerology suggests the totality of the number
four, again referencing the four elements, four directions, four sides to the
perfect square. It is representative of
calmness, solidity, and home, with the suggestion of getting back to the bones
of your life, planting roots, and persevering through obstacles when finding
ground might be difficult. The four is the
ground in that moment.
The Bible talks about the number four and its relationship
to creation. The fourth day was when the material universe was completed with
the sun, the moon and the stars, giving way to the four seasons in a year. The
fourth commandment is remembrance of the Sabbath day in order to properly honor
the work that went into the creation of the universe as we know it.
There are four temperaments described in early psychology
that are related directly to Hippocrates’ four humors. Melancholic temperaments are doomed to a life
of disappointment and slow movement despite their virtuous nature. Choleric
temperaments are strong but give way easily to anger. The sanguine person is
obedient and fits in well with their environment as a practice, seeking
approval and avoids controversy.
Phlegmatic types are similarly adaptable, but stubborn and lazy. These four temperaments cover a complete
array of personality types, furthering the notion that the number four
represents completeness.
“One significant representation of four symbology is in the
representation of the four evangelists of the four winged beasts in the vision
of Ezekiel, later reconstitutes in the New Testament as the four beasts of the
apocalypse in the Book of Revelations. In the Kabbalah, there were four worlds
of the Tree of Life. There are four creatures on the arms of Freemasonry, four
primary mental functions according to Carl Jung, and four dimensions of modern
science: length, breadth, width, and time.”
With all of this research, all of the symbolism, all of the
awareness this brings and parallels drawn, what does it mean in the scheme of
the loss that I suffered 4 years ago?
Though completion and home and stability and strength feel like very
attractive qualities moving through 4 years of heartbreak for a senseless
accident with no meaning, unfortunately, the fact that four years have passed
me by without the man with whom I agreed to share the rest of my life brings me
precious little solace. However,
standing with my back to four and facing year five head on feels different than
previous anniversaries. Grounded in
four, I feel the elements around and beneath me; The earth under my feet. I feel the square solidity of the new
foundation upon which this life I never asked for has been built. I feel the four roots from the Tree of Life
and I am quenched by the four rivers that feed the tree. I feel Hermes delivering my messages and his
connection to the natural and mystical alchemical changes which occur over time
reinforce the rooted feelings of four. Or maybe there is none of this and all I am
doing is trying to make sense of this.
What I do know, is that I have been blessed with another year on this
earth, and I am making the most of it. I will continue to do so, and honor my
time with love in my heart and an openness to receive it. I will continue to
miss him, and honor his memory with my own actions of love and affection and
presence in the world.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Thanksgiving Day
"What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love." -Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I am grateful. There are so many external factors for which I am grateful, most notably are the ones that I am sure we all feel, our families, our friends, a roof over head and warm food in our bellies. But this year, I am struck with gratitude for something that feels selfish, at first, but stay with me. I am grateful for my heart. My poor, torn, battered, and beaten heart that pumps life through my veins and renews itself over and over again. My heart has been pushed to the breaking point and has come back with such resilience and sincerity and an overwhelming capacity to give and receive love. It is because of this heart, which often feels as though it is hanging by threads, that I am able to feel the wealth of gratitude I have for the aforementioned external factors in my life which contribute so generously to my life's richness. It has been in my darkest moments when my brain tells me that I can’t go on, I can’t give love away again and open myself up to such pain, that my heart steps in and reminds me that to love and be loved is worth it, and that I can and will keep giving love and accepting it in return. It is for this that I am grateful; this torn up and beaten down heart that never gives up, never breaks down, and never grows cold. With this, I wish you the happiest day, and I leave you with an invitation to push your heart to the maximum of its capacity to love and be loved. If I can do it, you can do it. Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones. I love you.
I am grateful. There are so many external factors for which I am grateful, most notably are the ones that I am sure we all feel, our families, our friends, a roof over head and warm food in our bellies. But this year, I am struck with gratitude for something that feels selfish, at first, but stay with me. I am grateful for my heart. My poor, torn, battered, and beaten heart that pumps life through my veins and renews itself over and over again. My heart has been pushed to the breaking point and has come back with such resilience and sincerity and an overwhelming capacity to give and receive love. It is because of this heart, which often feels as though it is hanging by threads, that I am able to feel the wealth of gratitude I have for the aforementioned external factors in my life which contribute so generously to my life's richness. It has been in my darkest moments when my brain tells me that I can’t go on, I can’t give love away again and open myself up to such pain, that my heart steps in and reminds me that to love and be loved is worth it, and that I can and will keep giving love and accepting it in return. It is for this that I am grateful; this torn up and beaten down heart that never gives up, never breaks down, and never grows cold. With this, I wish you the happiest day, and I leave you with an invitation to push your heart to the maximum of its capacity to love and be loved. If I can do it, you can do it. Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones. I love you.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Regression
I feel like I am regressing lately. I think about KC and the loss and the fact that I am alone almost constantly. It has been three and a half years now and I haven't successfully dated anyone. I have no prospects on the horizon. I still live with my parents and I am have almost no savings. I can't believe this is where I am right now.
But.
Well.
This IS where I am right now. I just finished my first year of grad school and I am lucky enough to have a family to support me while I am finishing school so I don't rack up even more debt. I am good at my job; just because I am not getting rich, I am damn good at what I do and I positively influence kids with special needs on a daily basis. I am very proud of that. Yes, I think about my late fiancee a lot. I remember him and think of him and smile and cry and I remember how well loved I was. I miss him, and I don't know that I will ever stop missing him. I don't think I want to stop missing him. But I deserve to be loved. I just need to be patient.
It's so fucking hard to be patient.
But.
Well.
This IS where I am right now. I just finished my first year of grad school and I am lucky enough to have a family to support me while I am finishing school so I don't rack up even more debt. I am good at my job; just because I am not getting rich, I am damn good at what I do and I positively influence kids with special needs on a daily basis. I am very proud of that. Yes, I think about my late fiancee a lot. I remember him and think of him and smile and cry and I remember how well loved I was. I miss him, and I don't know that I will ever stop missing him. I don't think I want to stop missing him. But I deserve to be loved. I just need to be patient.
It's so fucking hard to be patient.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Themes and therapy.
I recently finished seven, 12-hour days of school in a row. I am in school to get my master's in counseling psychology and hopefully get my MFT license. The school that I chose is not your run of the mill school, but used to be named the Institute for Transformative Learning, or something like that. Long story short, it is a hippy dippy new wave institution in which I have grown and learned a TON and I fucking love it, but it is really hard. Like, really hard. Not like, damn, it's tough to be in school such long hours because listening to a lecture is tough, but more like, damn, I am doing so much work on myself and I am emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted and I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop out because I have been crying so much.
It's a lot like therapy, but it's education.
This past week I learned a lot about myself as I was pushed by a difficult person in my cohort. A common theme came up in my life that I guess I had always known was there, but I wasn't working with or processing in any healthy way. That theme is that good things in my life get cut short and then I shut down.
Seriously. Think about that for a hot second.
I am sure it happened before KC died, and it stands to reason that this is just a natural rhythm of life. Good things happen, bad things happen, wash, rinse, repeat. But the shut down part, that is a problem. It's a problem because it keeps me from having experiences and I am afraid I am missing valuable time in my life. Maybe this is why I am not able to successfully date someone. Maybe this is why I have only gone for unavailable men since I tried to start dating. Maybe this is why when things start going well for me, I get ill.
What I know is that I am wasting time and I don't have much of it, so I want to make it worth something. I don't want fear to rule my life. I don't want to be the Debbie Downer-let's-live-like-everything-is-shit-because-eventually-we'll-all-be-dead character who I see myself becoming. I need to be able to trust people. I need to be able to trust the world around me. I need to believe that love is still an available option for me. And the most salient point? I need help. I am not healthy in the mind body soul kind of way that I want to be. So I am looking for a good therapist. Know someone? Let me know. I want to disrupt this theme in my life and be able to be a well-adjusted person who believes in the goodness that I do know is there. I just need to be able to tap into that and find a way to become willing to risk pain for love again.
I just wonder if that is possible.
It's a lot like therapy, but it's education.
This past week I learned a lot about myself as I was pushed by a difficult person in my cohort. A common theme came up in my life that I guess I had always known was there, but I wasn't working with or processing in any healthy way. That theme is that good things in my life get cut short and then I shut down.
Seriously. Think about that for a hot second.
I am sure it happened before KC died, and it stands to reason that this is just a natural rhythm of life. Good things happen, bad things happen, wash, rinse, repeat. But the shut down part, that is a problem. It's a problem because it keeps me from having experiences and I am afraid I am missing valuable time in my life. Maybe this is why I am not able to successfully date someone. Maybe this is why I have only gone for unavailable men since I tried to start dating. Maybe this is why when things start going well for me, I get ill.
What I know is that I am wasting time and I don't have much of it, so I want to make it worth something. I don't want fear to rule my life. I don't want to be the Debbie Downer-let's-live-like-everything-is-shit-because-eventually-we'll-all-be-dead character who I see myself becoming. I need to be able to trust people. I need to be able to trust the world around me. I need to believe that love is still an available option for me. And the most salient point? I need help. I am not healthy in the mind body soul kind of way that I want to be. So I am looking for a good therapist. Know someone? Let me know. I want to disrupt this theme in my life and be able to be a well-adjusted person who believes in the goodness that I do know is there. I just need to be able to tap into that and find a way to become willing to risk pain for love again.
I just wonder if that is possible.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Well, today was stupid.
I hate days like today. Everything started off sideways and just kept at it. I was really trying to turn it around, and at one point I even thought I had it. But no. More shit. I felt ineffective and naive. Those are two of the worst feelings besides grief, I think. I am at work and I am not being affective so I feel like shit. I was thoughtless about social media (like a fucking dummy) and it bit me in the ass and now I feel naive, and that feels shitty. So that's where I am at. And the WORST part, you ask? No KC to make me feel better at the end of the day. No anyone to make me feel better at the end of the day. Just come home to my parents house and hide away and feel shitty til I don't. Happy mother fuckin Tuesday.
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