Posts Tagged ‘do the work’

I’m Willing To Do The Work

June 27, 2016


God damn it.

I laughed at myself.

In the bathroom, peeing out the iced coffee from Java Beach and all my out and about in the neighborhood today.

I never left the three block radius of my house.


Not true.

I did go grocery shopping at SafeWay down on Balboa and Great Highway.

But really.

I stayed put.

I had some ladies to meet today.

One who flaked.

One who didn’t.

I had a coffee date with an old friend.

I cooked for myself.

I got some groceries for a friend who is housebound with a foot surgery and can’t walk out the house yet.

I did the things that make me feel good.

Even when my friend brushed sand off my face and I thought for a minute, fuck, he’s going to kiss me.

But he didn’t.

I can’t date him and we talked it out in the dunes out at the beach and had a nice time just getting all the story out there and watching the waves roll in and out.

It was brisk but sunny.

And the Pride was still happening and the Parliament happening at Stern Grove, it was sort of perfect, no one was down at the beach.

Not that many folks in the neighborhood.

It was a soft, cottony, cold, foggy, swathed in morning and it took me a minute to get the yawns out of my head before I headed off to yoga.

It was warm in the studio and I drifted through the work out and it was great.

I got to the final resting pose and I think I actually experienced that illusive condition that the teacher is always alluding to.

My mind free and quiet.

My body at complete rest, totally supported by the mat and the earth beneath me.

I felt grounded and rooted and also, completely free and free floating.

It was utter bliss.

It didn’t hut that I was able to do some poses and sequences that I have not been successful with and I tried with one pose that is super challenging for me, Crow pose, and though I didn’t come anywhere near nailing it, I got to get closer to it and committed to trying to do it, and yeah, I fell.


I also laughed.

Grateful that I can laugh at myself.

“That’s the great thing about you!” My friend exclaimed as I was talking about some dating disasters I have been through over the last six months or so.  “You can totally laugh at yourself, that is so refreshing, you have no idea.”

Perhaps I don’t.

Perhaps I don’t have an inkling at all.

I mean.

I am fucking grateful that I can take my shit with a grain of salt and also that I have experience and perspective and information to move forward with.

I was yelling, or talking loudly with God, praying from the toilet seat as I peed, “really, I’m willing to do the work, I am.”

My friend who I had dropped groceries off to had suggested, in regards to a disaster of a relationship that I was super quiet about going through, he was stunned that I hadn’t said anything before today, that he hadn’t known anything.

“Dude, you mean _____________?! You were hanging out with him?”


“I had no fucking clue.”



Nobody did.

Then I ran down the story, sans the drama that I felt going through the experience, but I got the bones of the narrative out.

“Ok, so here’s the deal,” my friend broke it down, “you either think that you’re not enough, so you settled, or which is worse, that you knew you were better than this but you weren’t willing to do the work.”



Ouchity, ouch, ouch.

And yet.

There is truth here.

I wanted to deny it.

I wanted to say it was neither.

But the truth is that it was both, I felt both not enough and also that I was enough and more than enough, and I knew I wasn’t being treated well, but I sort of blinded myself to the information that I was being given and went tripping merrily down the rabbit hole.

I realize that I need sustenance more than flash.


Flash can be exciting.

It doesn’t last more than a week or two.

I like sexy, who doesn’t?



I want sustenance, I want substance, and yes, ha, I am wiling to do the work.

Which means what?

Fuck if I know.


I am ok with that too.

I am ok with having fun.

But, yeah, I do want the more permanent thing, not just the glittery and the sparkle.

I suspect that there can be both substance and glitter.

It doesn’t have to be a lot, but there should be sparkle, truly what doesn’t do well with a little bit of lacquer?

Painted heart.

Painted hussy.

Painted face.

Masked behind the sexy and the glitter and the ribbons and gewgaws, the flowers sequined and spattered with light shine, the musicality of stars, the glitter box full of hearts sprayed metallic shimmer, is the plain of my soul.

Lighted and a fire.

“You are so beautiful,” he said looking into my eyes, “the more I look, the further into your heart I can see and you are so beautiful.”

I don’t believe it was a line.

But it was our last goodbye.

Beneath the sheets our limbs entangled, his hands in my hair, on my face, holding it just there, it was a goodbye, in hindsight, although in the basement of my heart I knew, I still let the moment spin out, basking in the moment and the reverence.

The sacred.


The profane.

Floating gossamer like, a small spider web of hopeful desire sticky on my hands that brushed it away to go forward into the routine of my days and weeks.

Those days and weeks tumble into months now and though I can share the story with one friend on the beach and take the tale to another over coffee and catch up, I know now that they are just that, stories, narratives, tall tales from the neck of my life.

Floating out and above the skyline.


Heart shaped balloons.

Loosed at sunset.

Beautiful to look at.


Illusory and fragile.

Shot through.


Glowing in the sorbet sunset to melt into the sky, buttery indigo flamingo pink and puce punk back lit.

The change is this.

Instead of running across the dunes, stumbling, in fear, trying to catch something I can never touch or capturing something that cannot be caught, I stopped chasing.

I just sat back and watched them float away.

Still and silent.

Glowing inside and outside with the sunset.

And the few small grains of sand I just brushed from my face.

A soft smile.

The warm embrace of an arm around my waist.

The pause.

The goodbye.

And the hello again to knowledge.

It’s all just information.

How I use it.

That’s my choice.

I’m powerless over the rest.








Not unloved.

Oh no.




All the time.

This vast.






While Not A Disaster

March 10, 2016

It was not the date I was hoping for.

Oh well.

I acted with integrity.

I was nice.

I engaged and I knew pretty much from the first minute it was a no go.

Despite that.

I was courteous, polite, funny, I showed up and I had a date.

I am dating.

Not anyone in particular, obviously, and I turned down the second date ask, it was not going to happen and I was not going to even sugar coat it with a maybe.

I just replied thank you for coming out and I really appreciate the effort, he came from West Oakland and on my time frame–I’m heading into a long school weekend and my weekend will not be for dating–but no thank you.

Nice and succinct.

I got a nice reply back and then.


A barrage of text messages.


Look, listen, and learn.

Nobody owes anyone anything.

It’s nice to meet and talk and get to know someone, but hell, people, we all know when we’re not attracted to someone and despite my atrocious behavior last week I wasn’t going to tell this guy to assuage his feelings, sure, let’s try for another date.

I have done a double dip with a few guys that I was pretty much like, I don’t think there’s a connection, but I one guy, well I super respected the man, and he was a friend of friends and we were nice friends slash acquaintances, but after two dates, it did become so obvious that I wasn’t attracted that it didn’t seem fair to even try for a third.

But this guy?



I said no thank you and was kind.

Don’t make me go down the rude road because there were red flags, a lot of them.

Things I am learning.

Make the date on my time, in my hood, in an well lit area with friends in the background.

I felt a lot more secure in myself knowing the cafe was full of faces I knew.


I was sitting with my date outside, I didn’t think it would be fair for him to be scrutinized by the crew, but it was a nice feeling knowing the crew was there in the background.

Especially since, well, you know, I’m on a date with a person I have never met before.

I guess what has surprised me, and it shouldn’t, is that I am myself on this silly app.

I am just Carmen, flaws and all, I’ve got full body shots, you get to see me in my curvy glory, in my silliness and my pink hair at Burning Man.

I am up front immediately about not drinking or using.

I am transparent.


Not every body else is going to do that.

And that’s ok.

I’m just trying.

I had an interview and wasn’t interested in having a second date and said so and I am hella happy with myself for trying on a semi-school night.

I don’t have to figure out how to date.

I just have to do it.


Tinder hello, I’m trying.

And maybe I will give OkCupid another shot, I’m dipping my toe back in.

I am also absolutely not opposed to being asked out in person.

That would be the bees knees.

The cat’s pajamas.

That would rock.

“Carmen, when I grow up I’m going to figure out how to marry you,” my little six year old prince said to me as he sat snuggled in my lap having “dessert,” Greek yogurt with frozen blueberries.

“You’re the best,” he said emphatically, wrapped his arms around me and kissed my face.

Oh sweet jesus, little boy, you are breaking my heart.

I am so lucky to have this job, to care for these boys, my heart so full of love for them today.

And with a lucky break in the rain we actually got out to the park with a couple of baseball gloves, the t-ball bat and some bouncy balls

It was such a nice time.

Just getting to be outside, in the fresh washed air, the clean smell, the light grey and pearly, the sun pushed through the clouds momentarily and we all basked in it.

Super lit up with golden light and the glossy pearlescent love carried me up into the clouds.

I am graced.



I got my psychodynamics reading done!


I still have my Ethics class to read for and I need to print off my revised papers, but I am almost ready for this next weekend round of classes.

I am also looking forward to seeing my friends in the cohort and getting caught up.

I like having this community and new found fellowship.

I’m not best’ies with everyone, but I feel a great deal of mutual respect and compassion for the work that we as a whole do.

I also had one of my classmates reach out to me in regards to Burning Man.

He has never been and wants to pick my brain, so we’re going to hang out Saturday and I’ll drop the down load on him.

Although it can be challenging explaining it to someone, I do love talking about my experiences there and it’s home.

I had some one on Tinder get a hold of me and say, hey, “you going home this year?”


So is he.

Group sales for Burning Man tickets happened today and he got his ticket.

We compared some notes, it was cute.

No date.

But I think there may be.

And I’ll get better at it.

And I’m sure I’ll mess it up too and that’s ok as well.

As long as I’m trying to have fun and not be too serious about it and when I’m not attracted, to not agree to spend more time with the person.

And if they’re not attracted, to not pursue.

Walk away and leave him alone.

Stop banging my head (heart, really, it’s always my heart) on the closed door and walk to the open one.

There is an open door.

And it’s just waiting for you to walk through it.

I just have to keep walking.

Because I have no clue which door is going to open and when.

But when it does.


I’ll be ready.

Because I’ll have been trying.

I don’t get the results unless I do the work.

Here’s to trying.

Putting it out there.

And accepting that it’s not always going to be great.


I bet it will be.

And sooner than I think.



It’s pretty god damn good.



%d bloggers like this: