Posts Tagged ‘daily life’

Slowing Down

December 13, 2017

Not having any school stress hanging over me has really mellowed me out.

I got to debrief with my therapist about it all and the lecture and all the things love and relationship and work and family today.

It really amazed me to see that it was just one week ago today that I was on a stage giving a lecture in front of 100s of people.

It feels like it was last year.

There was so much that happened after the lecture that I quite lost sight of the fact that I had done it.

Even though I have had a number of people clamor for the video of it.

It has not been posted up yet and I’m rather loathe to watch it anyhow.

I don’t need to see myself, I was there, I know how it felt.

Even my therapist wants to see it!

My therapist went to the same school I’m in now and did the same program and had some of the same teachers.

It’s always a good feeling of commiseration with her about my life and school and all the things.

It’s almost as though we are contemporaries, friends.

We had a good session and there was much to process.

There always is.

And then off to work.

I went in early to help the family and got to spend an unexpectedly sweet day with the baby.

He’s almost a year now and it’s coming close to time to renew my contract with the family.

I’m very happy with them and they are happy with me.

It’s a mutual appreciation society.

Seriously.

The dad today said he didn’t know how they’d still be alive without me.

That was super sweet to hear.

It’s a trip though, working for a family with three kids, three really changes the dynamic, it’s a flat-out hustle sometimes and there is not a lot of down time.

There is always something for me to do.

Always.

I don’t mind, it’s good to stay busy.

Although not too busy.

The parents had asked if there was a day in the upcoming weeks that I might be able to help with an overnight and I gave them a night when I could and as it turns out that night doesn’t work and well, I have to say that I wasn’t really upset about that.

I don’t have solid plans to do anything on the days I have off, but I sort of like that I have some time off to do with what I will.

My therapist asked me about Christmas and what it was like for me and whew boy that opened up a lot of fodder.

I realized very much that the last few Christmases have been really hard on me and she was encouraging me to do something sweet for myself, a yoga retreat, a little road trip in my new car, something personal and kind and I will add, for myself, cheerful.

I often spend Christmas alone and I can get melancholic about it.

Last Christmas I was navigating through some personal landmines that surprised me but in hindsight needed to happen and helped me grow exponentially.

Nothing like pain to prompt some spiritual growth.

The year before I was with someone in Paris who couldn’t really be with me and that felt like throwing my heart on a bonfire and roasting marshmallows over it.

Burnt and crisp and super painful.

I’d rather not have a painful Christmas this year.

Soft and gentle and loving and I really want to let myself not freak out about it.

I don’t want to compare and despair.

Maybe the road trip to Stinson on Christmas Day, pack a picnic, go to the beach, have bonfire, collect shells, reflect on my life and what I want in the new year.

Or down to Santa Cruz and go to Bridges State Park for the Monarch migration happening now.

I tried to go one year with a boyfriend and yes, we made it, but so late in the day that the monarchs weren’t flying.

I might try to give that another shot.

I should also get my MOMA on.

I have a membership and haven’t been in months, now that I’m on break from school it’s definitely time to go again.

I also want very much to see the Klimt exhibit at the Legion of Honor.

I love Klimt.

That is a must do.

I will also do a movie at the movie theater.

Last year I went to La La Land on Christmas day for a matinée at Kabuki Theaters and then I took myself out to sushi.

It was super cold on my scooter and I felt pretty miserable riding around.

Not going to be a problem with year with having a car.

I’ll be taking her tomorrow.

The last two days I’ve been on my scooter to avoid the morning rush traffic and get to supervision and today to therapy, before work and then to my internship on time.

I haven’t those obligations tomorrow.

I’ll be taking my car.

I really love having that car.

Yeah.

The more I think about it the more I think a mini road trip will do me good.

Even if it’s just across the bridge.

Oh!

I could do a ferry ride too.

I remember one year on Christmas Eve I caught the last ferry to Sausalito, I got off the boat, walked to a coffee shop, bought a coffee and walked right back onto the ferry.

I got to see the city at night all lit up in Christmas lights.

It was stunning.

I got a lot of really gorgeous photographs from that little jaunt.

And of course.

I’ll find somewhere to go do the deal and get right with God, always that, especially during this time.

Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I have to be lonely.

Nope.

There will be many ways to keep it merry and bright.

Heck.

I can just sit and contemplate my Christmas tree and watch Holiday Inn.

I love me some Bing Crosby.

I do.

 

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Done And Done

October 19, 2015

And done.

But.

Not done in.

So thankful to have had this day of working on all that is love and home and work and homework and heart work and everything that life entails and encapsulates.

I had a full day.

One that I wasn’t exactly sure how it was going to go off.

I insisted on letting myself sleep in an hour longer than I normally would.

Well.

I don’t know if insist is the right word, it felt almost like work, just lie here and let yourself go back to sleep.

The machine in my brain wanted me up and about and get on it girl, there are things to do, people to meet with, breakfast to cook, writing to be done, you have papers to write and so much reading, do you have any idea how much reading you have to do?

Not as much as I did this morning, but I get a head of myself.

I was able to combat the thoughts by acknowledging them and saying, might have been mumbled into my pillow as I turned over in my bed, my delicious, delightful, pinch me I’m so happy I get to sleep on it, bed, “thanks for sharing,” and go back to sleep.

It worked for a little while, I got another 45 minutes in.

Of course the next time I woke up, I was up and going.

And really.

I haven’t stopped since.

Although there have been reprieves and moments of down time today, moments when I look about me with such gratitude that I am overcome by what I have and the abundance, nay, the super abundance, of love in my life.

I have been all around the world and I have this home that has become such a home to me that I am in literal awe of what I have.

There is art and beauty everywhere.

The last piece finally coming together as a friend came over this morning to help me hang the Diebenkorn he gave me months ago.

When I look at that piece, the way it sings on the wall, the heralding of love, the colors replete and yes, matching, complimenting, extending around my room, I am reminded in subtle, and not so subtle ways, of the journey of the last few months.

Had someone said, you are going to cry this much, and feel this much pain, and yes, laugh this much, so much that you think you might pee your pants or vomit out sushi, or good forbid snort (all of which have happened in one degree or another) or that I might feel so much joy that I felt I was to burst, that I was going to see so much art, have access to it, get to bring it home and make my home even more my home, well, I would not have believed it.

Which is funny.

Since I have big feelings and the above sentence does not seem at all irrational to me when I re-read it.

Of course I changed.

My home becoming my unexpected crucible and I am replete with happiness, content in a way that I had not thought possible, though knew, really knew, was out there for me.

I have everything I need.

I have so much that I want, that the wanting is almost supplemental.

But I will tell you a secret.

Shhhh.

I am thinking again about a scooter.

I have been saving.

And I have not touched the financial aid disbursement that I have received for school.

I have gotten help, I won’t say that I haven’t, I have been gifted generously and taken care of and that has allowed me to throw a little more in my savings than I typically do.

I am feeling it out again, the scooter topic, as my knees also bugged me a bunch today and over the last week.

They buckled a little trying to help lift my bed out-of-the-way to hang the Diebenkorn and I found myself bursting into tears.

Although I valiantly tried to hide them, my friend looked at me in alarm and told me to sit down.

I was humbled.

My body, a token of constant humility.

I can dress her up, but sometimes I can’t get her to walk from here to there.

Anyway.

The scooter has been on my mind again and part of that, I won’t lie, is for efficiency as well.

How much more reading could I get in if I weren’t riding my bike to and from work and school?

What places I would be able to go to, doing the deal especially can be hard some days and I feel that a mode of transportation at night that is faster than my bicycle will be helpful.

I am hoping the little Buddy Italia in cream and avocado is still at Scooter Centre.

If it’s not.

It wasn’t meant to be.

If it is.

Heh.

Maybe I can get a better price on it than the one he offered me when I looked at it a few months ago.

Plus.

I am expecting a bonus at the holidays.

If I can hold off on spending the loan money and get a nice bonus, I maybe riding a scooter into the new year.

This is all speculation and pulls me away from the moment and the further acknowledgement that I need to give, to myself, really, I just want to acknowledge how much work I put into those sonnets–the ones from last nights blog.

I sent them off just before logging on here to write my blog.

I went through them three more times today and edited them, read them out loud, tightened them up, and then sat and dreamed on them while I wrote my Psychoanalytic Paper on Freud’s theories of Mourning and Melancholia.

Ayup.

And I used them in my paper.

Which was fantastic and outside the box and I was hesitant, but my friend said go for it, and when I consider how much work I did on them it didn’t feel like I was cheating to include them in my paper.  If anything, it felt like an acknowledgement to the professor of how much the Freudian work actually found its way into the sonnets as I was writing them against the back drop of analysis and dreamscapes.

I re-titled the work, tightened it up, and sent it out.

The collaborator poet has officially sent her poems out into the world for the photographer artist to use.

Part of me hopes he likes it.

The majority of me doesn’t give a flying rat’s ass.

I did a damn good job.

I love them.

They brought me joy.

I spent a lot more time with them then I thought I would, but I received so much in return, including a lot of insight that I extrapolated later in my paper when I wrote it.

That was my day: poetry, reading, writing, repeat.

Take small breaks, meet with ladybug, cook food for the week, do laundry, go with friends over the bridge to do the deal in Mill Valley, hang out, catch up with folks, then come home and finish all my Freud reading for class on Friday.

Thank God.

It’s done.

Oh.

Hahaha.

Don’t worry, I still have reading to do before Friday, but I don’t have any more papers due.

A reprieve.

I’m done for now.

Just now.

And with that.

Time to put up my feet.

Curl up in my bed.

Sip a cup of tea and look in astonishment at the prosperity and abundance in my life.

I am a very lucky girl.

I am.

So.

Very.

Very.

Lucky.

Relax, It’s All Good

March 7, 2013

Man.

Sometimes it is just a challenge to let myself have a day.

A day to walk.

A day to sit.

A day to read.

My head got away with me after yesterday’s successful foray into the writing.

Or maybe I just needed to regroup.

Or maybe I need to get laid.

All of the above.

I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  It wasn’t a calculated thing and I realized after being grumpy for no good reason that I was in fear.

There she blows, fear of financial insecurity striking home once again.  I got a little in my head and I found it challenging to get out.  I walked a lot.  I went to the Petit Palais and I took in the free exhibit.

Which was all about Venice, I am feeling it, I am.

Venice you are not too far away are you?

I would prefer to go to Venice with someone though.

I mean, I don’t mind being a single lady in the City of Lights, but sometimes I do think it would be nice to have a companion to go about town with.  I know that I should just count myself lucky to be able to go about Paris at all.

I am staving off the pity party.

It and the “I need money” party need to go hit up that wedding reception over there and leave me alone, just don’t tell them that the open bar only serves Perrier.

I went for two walks today and I got a little harassed, I also realized as I was walking that I had gone further into the Saint Denise, read prostitution, neighborhood then I meant too.

I had gotten a bit turned around, not lost, but just slightly askew, I have to continue to remind myself that the streets do not run parallel.

No they do not.

I found this little side street and went down it.

Then found a covered market and wandered through it.

Lastly, I crossed the street to take a photograph of some street graffiti and then the next thing you know I am being catcalled and I am not in my neighborhood anymore.

Nope.

And I am wearing hot pink tights, a turquoise mini dress and a hot pink sweater.

I might as well have had a neon sign on me.

“Pssst,” he said from a bench, “I like pink.”

EW.

Run away.

I got back on the right track and went back to the house.  I downloaded some photographs and I read for a while and I tried to stay off the internet until it was time to do some posting.

I put on some Nina Simone.

I am listening to her right now.

I sent out a query.

I get the blues ’bout every night since I fell for you.

Sing it Nina.

I fell for Paris.

Long before I even landed here.

I think I was having a little of the “I don’t belong here” syndrome today.  Feelings are not facts though, and I am constantly reminded that no matter what happens I am ok and I am doing it.

Whatever the hell “it” is.

I am going to have off days and today was a little off.

That’s ok.

I still did plenty.

I am still doing plenty, as I write, as I blog, as I load some more photographs up.

As I allow myself to be me.

In, or out of my hot pink tights.

Looking at all the stacks of notebooks and books and the camera and I know that I am on the correct path, just heading down another bend in the road with no visuals.

If I let myself lean into it, everything is fine, and exhilarating.

The weather is getting warmer, I know that won’t last, there’s at least another cold week or two in the future, but after that, sitting in the parks, in the sun.

Sun.

I know it is coming and I can hang in there until it does.

Life is always changing, I will meet new people, have new circumstances, develop new talents.

That is what has been sticking in my head, the ability to allow myself to fail to develop new hidden talents.  I made the leap and I can’t see what’s underneath me.

I imagine it is a yawning chasm of black glass shards and despair bright and coppery as the blood on my tongue after biting the inside of my cheek.

There is, really, probably a big feather bed with a warm comforter on it and light and green plants and an arm around me, safe and strong, holding me close.

But nope, my head sees–

CHAOS.

INSANITY.

Blah, blah, blah.

Fear, it’s all just fear and despite my needless worry machine launching in my head, I am completely fine.  Taken care of, loved, and alive.

I am alive.

I got to take a walk through a palace today, for Pete’s sake.

I also need to acknowledge that I had a challenging time getting to the writing today, felt a little written out after all the activity yesterday.  Feel like I still need to do some writing though, even if it is just to jot down a note or two, a poem.

A sentence.

Then again, I may just let the blogging speak for itself today and let the short story I started yesterday simmer a little longer on the stove.   I may just cut myself a little slack and make a snack and a cup of tea and watch a little movie.

I can read some more as well.

I will be at Bert’s all day tomorrow, so I know I will be getting in a good bout of writing in between rounds of meeting folks.  I will be camped out, hopefully on the couch in the back, for the majority of the afternoon.

I think I shall finish off the short tomorrow and then, well, I will just keep trying.

I will keep up the good fight, I will keep letting myself make mistakes and fall apart and get back up and maybe shed a tear or three and live, and feel and let myself feel and love and let myself be loved.

Most of all I will acknowledge that it’s all good, it’s all happening exactly as it’s supposed to and I am smash on the right path at the right time and I am taken care of despite the horror show in my head.

I am just fine.

Here, in Paris.

I am better than fine.

Everything is coming up pink.

 


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