Posts Tagged ‘adrenalin’

Open Heart

January 28, 2018

I have felt pretty fucking raw this past week.

I have gone through a lot and I have not walked it alone.

Today.

Ah.

Today.

I finally had a day without crying.

I got emotional, I had moments where I thought I would.

I had some strong longings, really fucking strong, to reach out and engage, but I remember that I don’t do this alone and that I have been given a lot of suggestions about how to navigate through my experience.

It doesn’t make it easier, in fact, it seems to make it harder.

But.

I suspect that the pain will be worth it.

That I will be left with something magic and special and worth it.

As I was told today, “the only way through is through.”

I am definitely going the fuck through it.

And.

Yes.

I did go and get myself some tattoos.

And yes.

They did ameliorate the pain a little bit, focused it in one location, shut my fucking brain off for a little while.

I got lost in the pain, floated around in it, distracted by the sound of the needle and the threading pain on my breast bone.

But it helped too.

And I love my new tattoos.

I got my lucky thirteen star.

For my thirteen years of sobriety.

I have a star for each year I have been sober.

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I had my artist, Danny Boy Smith, at Let it Bleed Tattoo on Polk Street, make the placement.

I had thought of doing it a little lower, but when he put it underneath my ear I was quite taken with it.

Of course.

Holy shit.

That was distracting.

Having the needle so close to my ear, very distracting, it seemed to intensify the pain, the noise did, and I was very grateful that it wasn’t that big of a tattoo, he handled it pretty quick.

I had already gotten my other tattoo and was pretty pumped up on adrenaline by that, so the star didn’t hurt that much, it was just the sound of the needle and the vibration in my ear that was a little more intense than I had expected.

My first tattoo.

Well.

Fuck.

It hurt.

Yes.

It did.

I love when people ask if getting a tattoo hurt.

Duh, motherfucker.

Of course it hurts, come on.

Needles being driven into your skin, no really, it’s like getting a warm massage.

However.

I will say, my adrenalin kicked in super fast.

In fact.

I noticed it before I was in the chair, I was getting nervous and my body temperature went up, my fingers got cold and I got a little sweaty upper lip.

Fight or flight response.

Jittery stomach.

Despite making sure that I had a good lunch and I had it later in the day so that my stomach would be full while I got tattooed.

I can’t imagine anything worse than being hungry while being tattooed.

No thank you.

Anyway.

Yeah.

The adrenalin got up there right away.

The placement was on my breast-plate.

It’s beautiful.

I love the piece.

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I feel like it really tied all the pieces together and it just feels like I got the right placement and I really love the design.

It was based on a very special Tiffany pendant I was gifted.

One of my favorite things that I have been given this past year.

God.

When I think of the gifts I have been given.

I am amazed.

Even this pain that I have been walking through.

It’s a gift.

I get to feel it.

I get to feel the depth and breadth of my feeling.

I got to see how much I love.

I love a lot.

I love hard.

I love with reckless abandon and passion.

And.

Well, fuck, that makes me proud.

I’m alive and I wasn’t afraid to be sorry, I don’t have regrets.

Not a fucking one.

Rather.

I am grateful for all these experiences.

I have been given so much love.

The fact that I was hit so very hard with my circumstances shows to me the amount of love I have.

It is enormous.

It boggles my mind.

I used to pine for a love like this and then I got it.

And I was amazed.

I am amazed, at what I have gotten to experience.

And though I don’t believe that I am done grieving yet, I don’t feel like it’s a loss any longer.

Ok, that’s not true, it does still feel like a loss, but I know that it’s becoming more than that.

It is an opportunity to love more, to allow myself to step out into the light and shine forward and be strong and generous and kind and compassionate.

With myself.

With others.

I don’t know what my love path looks like, but I do not have any doubt that I won’t get to travel further along it.

Darling, reach out, and take my hand.

I will walk this path with my hand open, waiting for you to take it into yours.

I have faith.

Love.

I have so much faith.

And I know how strong I am.

For having walked as far as I have already.

I will be able to do this.

Grateful and alight for the experience of love that I have gotten.

In complete faith, utter and complete faith, that this love is not done.

It is infinite.

It is grand.

It is eternal.

All encompassing.

A shining beacon.

A brightly lit heart.

Just like the inspiration for my new tattoo.

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Well

September 14, 2014

And done.

It went well.

And I am done.

Zombified by the adrenalin of it all.

I do not know how entertainers can do it.

I got so sick with stage fright today I thought I was going to throw up.

I apparently did ok.

I messed up a few lines, transposing a couple of verses, but since the pieces were my own poems, no one knew the difference.

In fact, all were kind and sweet.

It was worth it, though to get up there and be present and perform, not that I think I am going to be doing it again any time soon.

I felt rather upstaged and outclassed by the musicians.

I am not playing any instruments, just reciting some poems.

It’s intimacy though, intense intimacy, just me, just a microphone, just my own words, my own lines of verse.

I mean.

It’s hard to hold an audience for seven minutes, especially with poetry, but I feel that they were with me.  And as more than one friend mentioned, really the best audience a person could ever hope for.

I have to say, the MC, Bucky Sinister, made the night for me.

He was hilarious.

I know his books and I have known through the grapevine that he does stand up comedy, and I can totally see it, he was a freaking hoot.

And Tom Sway.

Wow.

Blown away by his performance, it made me feel.

I mean really feel.

I laughed in appreciation at the talent the first piece displayed.

Part of it was tragic, comic, melodramatic, high emotionalism, high-octane, epic storytelling, and it was smart.

Very smart.

And the second.

Well.

Damn.

I cannot remember being brought to tears that quickly before by an artist.

The last time I recall having that kind of visceral response, that kind of quick lighting grief and sadness and elemental joy, was listening to Jeff Buckley encore with Hallelujah at the Barrymore Theater in Madison, when I saw him on tour for Grace.

I reasoned the tears away immediately.

I was feeling emotional.

The adrenalin was finally wearing off.

I was having after effects from my performance.

But the pure fact of it was I could identify with the artists’ deep sadness and insurmountable joy all at the same time.

The man is a talent.

I don’t believe I was the only one in the audience with tears in their eyes.

That’s a good place to be.

Surprised.

Open to others artistry and love of performance.

There were some performers tonight I could have done without, but to have had the willingness to get up on the stage and do their bit, I respected, perhaps with a greater appreciation than ever before, the work involved and the passion for it that comes out.

That being said.

I am done with it and glad for it.

I’m not so certain I am built to be a performer.

I like to think I am, that I have a talent for it.

But after seeing Sway and Sinister do there things, I was content to recognize that I may have a tiny touch of sweet melodic muse in me, I don’t have comic genius or the ability to bring people to tears.

I am a mediocre talent at best.

But grateful to have had a small chance here and there to do my little thing and know that experience, the getting up in front of a group of people and showing a part of myself.

There’s certain places I speak well and they can remain anonymous for now.

I don’t need accolades.

I don’t need applause.

My ego doesn’t need it.

I think I am just a tiny bit too introverted.

Despite my extroverted exterior.

I am on the shy’er side of town.

But not debilitatingly so.

Another thing to be grateful for.

I did think a moment or two of completely bowing out, what I had to offer was vastly different from what was happening on stage with most of the performers, but it was still something, another thing, I got to do by walking through the fear.

And now the weekend can really start.

And the week too, I suppose.

I have the next four days off, technically five, I do have off on Thursday as well, but I have a lot of errands I have to run, including going to the Healthy San Francisco offices and getting my care extended for another year, on that day to feel like a real day off.

I was instructed to enjoy it.

Especially as I will be starting a new job on September 22nd (plus a gig this Friday and this Saturday) and I will be busy, it will be full-time and I will just leap right into it.

It was expressed to me that this may be my only time off for a while so I best take advantage of it.

That doesn’t mean that I have any idea what I am going to do.

Well, aside from not be in any more talent shows, that’s enough stress for me for a while, thank you very much.

I am supposing I shall play more tourist in my town sort of things.

Go to the beach.

Maybe do some yoga.

Aside from the “exciting” and overwhelming cold sweaty high of the adrenalin, I did get one other thing from the talent show–a $200 gift certificate for a yoga session.

The benefit had a raffle and that’s what I won.

Thank you.

That’s at least one thing to do.

Sleeping in may be another.

I’m still a little hobbled with the ankle, so nothing too strenuous.

A movie.

A matinée?

All the things.

There are so many.

A swim.

A session at Kabuki Springs and Spa.

A nap.

Really.

A date with a new paramour.

Not that I have one, but a girl can dream can’t she?

Should you have thoughts, throw them my way.

Or time.

Let’s hang out and watch the leaves turn silvery in the sun and cool outlined with the sharp air off the ocean.

There is time.

And there is time.

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

 

 


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