Posts Tagged ‘Trauma class’

Sexy Got Her Homework On

March 27, 2017

And her yoga on.

But not her sex on.

Well.

Not true.

I took care of business after my second yoga class today.

Yes.

I said that, two yoga classes today.

I have never done that before.

It’s not that big a deal and at the same time, it sort of was.

I went to my normal 9 a.m. Sunday morning class and got a very good sweat on and proceeded to watch my entire day change in the span of a few text messages.

When I got back from my yoga class I got a cancellation then after I got out of my shower and was getting my breakfast ready, my coffee date cancelled.

So.

I sent a lover a message.

And.

Nope.

NO response.

That kind of day.

So.

I got to do extraordinary amounts of self-care.

Which was needed and much cleaning and house hold attending.

And.

Cooking and grocery shopping.

This next few weeks is going to be busy.

I will be working two weeks straight for the family, the dad will be leaving Thursday for a business trip out-of-town so I will be working next Saturday and Sunday.

It’s actually going to be three weeks of work and school before I have another weekend off.

It’s going to be intense.

So I’m grateful I had today all to myself.

I was good company.

I took some extra time this morning for my writing and I made myself the most delicious coconut/almond milk latte and decided to just let the day unfold and not worry about anything.

I knew I also had to get a paper written for my Trauma class, my step-father made it into a paper this go around, and do cooking and food prep.

But I didn’t force myself or stress.

I just took each moment as its own little exquisite experience.

I washed all my bedding and did two loads of laundry, even washed the rugs in the bathroom, and swept, vacuumed, washed, polished, and cleaned my whole house.

It looks so nice.

I also went grocery shopping for two weeks of food.

I will probably have to re-up on fresh fruit, but I have enough coffee, eggs, oatmeal, brown rice, almond milk, organic carrots, frozen blueberries, and prepared food to get me through the weeks to come.

I roasted a chicken today and I made jambalaya.

I froze the majority of it and canned the rest of the chicken soup I had leftover from last week.

I have meals for days and I feel happy to have dealt with it.

I didn’t leave the neighborhood.

Although I did take my scooter to the Safeway on Balboa to get my groceries.

I wasn’t going to take it further, I knew there was going to be one more episode of rain and sure enough, there was, but not before I had run all the errands I needed to do and the next week and a half looks like sunshine.

That is going to be super helpful, I have my first therapy session with my new therapist Tuesday before work and I have an appointment to see my advisor at school Thursday before work.

The before work, work begins.

In actuality, I realize, it began already last week, I have been doing things before work for the last couple of weeks since the last school weekend.

Which reminds me, I need to swing by the post office before work in the morning and pick up a package.

I think work is going to be pretty busy, not just with working next weekend, but also, its Spring Break for the kiddos, which means I won’t have reading time for school work.

I feel like I’m ok though, I have done a lot of the Couple’s Therapy reading already, finished all my Trauma reading and I wrote my Trauma paper today.

I had some push back on it.

I realize I have been having some feelings of, “over it,” move along, I’m tired of this stuff.

It can get exhausting looking at the trauma minefields in my life history and how I got through some seemingly unscathed, but the patterns of the things I did to survive stay with me, little bombs of shrapnel on my psyche that explode without warning and leave me tired on the side of the road picking the stuff out of the pockets of my emotions.

“I feel brutalized,” I was telling my person yesterday at Tart to Tart, that place has seen a lot of my tears, about an incident that happen last week and how I felt and why I was angry.

We did a lot of work around it and I got some very good suggestions and I took them, I’m still taking them, I will keep taking them as the days move forward.

I hadn’t realized how much I was carrying until I said out loud that I felt brutalized and that it reminded me, I later saw, of my step-father and my mom and some stuff that happened to me growing up.

All the things that happened growing up.

Glad I start therapy on Tuesday, Jesus fuck.

Of course, under the lens of my graduate school work, of course, a lot of stuff is going to come up, the pot just keeps getting stirred and things pop to the surface, so when I sat down to write my paper I realized just how much I didn’t want to write it and I let myself start out that way.

And.

Five pages and 1,562 words later.

I was finished.

In fact.

I finished it so fast that I realized I could go to the restorative yoga class tonight at my studio.

Yes, I had already practiced today, but the restorative is really meditative and relaxing and it’s not about getting a work out, it’s about being in your body and supporting different parts of it that don’t typically get support or rest.

It was just so what I needed.

I came home, lit some candles, checked my messages, saw nothing from anyone, and said, well, I’ll just take care of me and took care of me.

I am actually a little surprised that I had so much sexual energy today, I just finished my period yesterday, but as I am getting older I can tell that sometimes it comes out in different ways energetically.

I also had some fodder for fantasy running around my head that I just let myself have.

I could say it was counter transference from the work I did today, which is another entire blog and far to clinical for me to delve into here.

Or.

I could just say.

After getting flowers, a home cooked dinner, and a restorative yoga class I was just in a yummy, dreamy space.

And I let myself go there too.

Yes.

Thank you self-care Sunday.

You rocked.

Ready for the next weeks work.

Bring it on.

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Made It

March 25, 2017

To the weekend.

And I’m just hella happy to be home writing my little blog and it’s not even 9p.m.

I’m already in my bunny slippers.

At least I have some good music on.

There is a dance party up in here, y’all.

I’m listening to Parov Stelar, Mama Talking.

So fucking good.

I’m not quite sure what to call it, Neo Swing,  Electro Jazz, maybe Electro Swing.

Whatever.

I fucking love it.

I definitely dance my ass off when it comes on and I’m quite happy to have discovered some new tunes.

Dancing makes me happy.

And I haven’t had very much chance to do it recently.

I don’t think I have been dancing since right after New Years Eve.

To be honest, I’ve been pretty bushed with the work, the school, the internship, the supervisors, the finding a therapist, the whole damn deal, it’s taken a bit out of me, but I’m grateful and I know it won’t be forever.

I do suspect that it’s going to be about a year or so of being pretty exhausted and trying to keep whatever equilibrium I can.

I also suspect that it will be exhilarating and exciting and overwhelming and sure, why not, I bet it will be fun too, it’s fun to be on the path, to be headed somewhere, to have a direct goal, a vision, I feel like I’m fighting the good fight and doing the work and I know that is its own reward.

Yeah.

I also look forward to a time when I’m actually taking real clients and making money, like real money, I’m just getting by at the moment, it’s not a bad getting by, but it’s a tight getting by for living in San Francisco.

Especially when I start to contemplate having to start to pay out-of-pocket $120 a week for therapy.

The money will be there though, I know it, I have faith, and I’ve a bit socked away for a rainy day.

In Paris.

Actually, I fucking hope that it will not be rainy in Paris when I get there, I will want to devour every last bit of the city and I am hoping for sunny days, warm nights, long walks through the markets, the Marais, where I will be staying, a lunch at a cafe by Place de Vosges, a visit or four to Les Rouge Enfant Marche, a trip out to see the Louis Vuitton Institute out in Parc de Butte Charmont, a walk through the Pompidou, a tattoo, I mean, hello, that’s what I do, at Abraxas, a shopping visit to Fleux, a hat from a vendor in the Bastille, an afternoon at the Jeu de Paume, the Orangerie and the D’Orsay, a walk along the Seine, a walk up to Sacre Couer, a dinner at Odette and Aime, maybe a visit to a Brocante, grab a book and some postcards from Le Merle Moquer, fuck, as long as I’m in that neighborhood I suppose I’ll have to hop to Pere Le Chaise for a stroll, oh the places I’ll go.

I’m allowing myself to use half of my travel savings when I go to Paris.

The rest will be used for Burning Man tickets, travel to and from, supplies, food, and camp gear and that infrastructure.

Of course.

I haven’t gotten the ticket to Burning Man yet.

I have, though, to Paris and I have a place to stay, so I’m allowing myself to spend some money a few nice things and experiences while I’m there.

Not extravagant by any stretch, but for me, decadence.

I’ll eating out, I’ll definitely be drinking cafe cremes in cafes, I’m for sure going back to Cantine, that was fabulous, plus, I know my friend whose place I am staying at in the Marais, will have all sorts of good recommendations for me.

I swear.

Paris dreaming is what is helping through this part of the school process.

I’m in the short stretch of the semester, I’ve got to write a paper this weekend, I remind myself, there’s only two weekends of class left.

I e-mailed my advisor regarding all my paperwork, the supervisor, the therapist, and the internship hours, all the things, and I will be going in next Thursday to get his signature and turn over all the forms to the practicum office and registrars office.

This is happening.

I’m pretty happy with this turn of events, it’s been, yes, a bit nerve-wracking, a bit anxiety inducing, my own doing, but, to be able to walk into my next weekend of classes, two weeks from today, and have my internship nailed down, my schedule of hours, my supervisor set up and scheduled and have started my therapy requirement for the Master’s program requirement, big fucking stuff for me.

I was hoping to have my Community Mental Health project done too, but I’ll be ok with what I just mentioned.

Plus.

I have been knocking back the reading for my classes.

I may try to finish up Couples Therapy this weekend on top of writing my paper for my Trauma class, I will be working next weekend, so I don’t think I’ll be writing any papers.

The kids are also on Spring Break and the family is not going anywhere.

The big yummy hours of reading time I had this week will evaporate the next week.

I’ll get as much prep done this weekend and really, I’ll be damn fine with what ever comes of it, I’ve really been kicking it out.

So.

NO.

I’m not at all sad that I am not out at some club tonight celebrating Friday.

I am happy to be here, at home, rocking the fuck out of some good music.

Besides.

I’ve got a yoga class in the morning.

And.

I will make sure I spend some time hanging out with people tomorrow.

Some fellowshipping and some socializing.

Now.

Excuse me.

I need to dance around my room a little more in my bunny slippers.

Happy Friday!

Balance

March 20, 2017

I don’t know how it actually happened.

But.

It actually happened.

I did yoga, visited a friend in the East Bay, hey y’all San Leandro is much cuter than I remember, read four chapters in my Trauma reading–officially finishing the reading for the next weekend of class, listened to a two-hour podcast for said Trauma class, roasted a chicken, and made homemade chicken soup.

What?

I didn’t drive myself crazy trying to do it either.

It all just sort of sweetly unfolded.

I got up and went to yoga and it was good and I stayed pretty present in the class, only running out the door in my brain a few times trying to figure out schedules and such, but mostly I was just there in the studio doing the yoga and breathing.

I did not want to go this morning and I almost talked myself out of it, but in the end, my body won and walked me over to the studio.

My brain was mollified by the rest it got from worrying and I felt good being in my body.

Which my brain tells me will never happen as I don’t have a 22-year-old yoga body, but I do have a 44-year-old body and there was a woman in her 60s today doing yoga, that’s what I love about it, anyone can do it, although, yes, there does seem to be a proclivity for a certain type of person to be doing yoga, I do see a lot of different ages and abilities.

Yesterday there was a woman next to me who was obviously pretty new to yoga and it reminded me how awkward and uncomfortable I was in my first weeks of classes, and it also demonstrated to me that even a woman with what I would in my twisted brains says has a “better body” than me, wasn’t able to keep up with the class and I did.

This is not a judgement, it was just good noticing on my part and it helped me see that even though I am just getting in two classes  week, I’m staying in it and I can see that I have gotten better, even when I think I never will, I have.

And that we all have different bodies, some more flexible, some less flexible, some more balanced, some less balance, and that all of us, at least in that class, are doing the best we can and we showed up.

I am grateful for showing up.

I am also grateful for going over to the East Bay and catching up with my friend.

I miss her.

It’s hard when friends move and the number of folks that I have said goodbye to who have moved out of San Francisco is challenging.

And it’s hard to stay in connection with folks, even if they are just a train ride away.

Living in the Outer Sunset makes it challenging.

I was going to ride my scooter to a BART station and park it and go over, but after yoga, I was jut too tired, and sort of loose in my brain and I thought, screw it, just grab the N-Judah train downtown and take BART from the Embarcadero.

Yes.

It did take longer than had I been on my scooter.

But.

The upside?

I had time to read!

I finished the reading for my Trauma class and was very happy to get off the train in San Leandro and see my sweet friends smiling face from her car as she drove up to pick me up.

God damn it was good to see her.

I got to see her new digs and go for a scenic drive around the hills and have yummy lunch and catch the fuck up.

She understands my conundrum quite well having gone through nursing school.

Grad school is a hard, lonely, hard, lonely, time-consuming, expensive, did I say lonely, road to trudge.

Add work into that mix and it feels like that is all I do.

Work.

Whether it is school work or work work, it feels like work.

Then I realize, maintaining relationships is work too.

And that all this work, it does pay off.

My friends’ a nurse.

I have friends who are doctors and lawyers, lots of nurses too, I know PhD’s in history, I know teachers and filmmakers, I know landscape horticulturists and creative writing professionals, I know someone at Oxford for fuck’s sake.

We have all done this to get somewhere.

The work is work and it is a joy too.

Although, I have to say I appreciate it more, this work, when I make room for the work that it takes to make sure that I am staying connected to my friends and fellows.

That might actually be the most important work there is, might, ha, it really is, these relationships are what gets me through, I couldn’t do this on my own.

I just could not.

Oh.

Sure.

Sometimes I do wish I could, but I can’t and for that I am grateful.

When I tried to do it on my own, well, I fell pretty flat.

When I began to work in concert with others in relation.

Well.

I started getting somewhere.

I want to keep connecting and reconnecting.

I want to keep that balance.

I am not sure what that looks like and for today, well, I don’t have to, I did have it, I did see my friend, I did do yoga, and homework, a lot of it, and I did meal prep, which is always important to me, I did all the things.

And they were nice.

They really.

Really.

Were.

 

 

Staying In The Moment

March 18, 2017

Is hard to do.

Seriously.

If I’m not careful I’ve skipped over the whole weekend and I’m back at Monday and in the work grind again.

I can do that, magically get so caught up in the things that I need to get done that I forget to do the things for myself that I need to do, slow down, breathe, appreciate my efforts for the things I have done.

Acknowledge that shit, yo.

I worked a full week of work after having done a full weekend of school which was just following a full week of work.

So yes.

Tomorrow is my first day off in two weeks.

Hallelujah.

I am stoked.

I am going to do some nice things for me as I have done a lot of work for school over the past week, from showing up to my internship and signing papers, to e-mailing and contacting supervisors, to making appointments to interview with a possible supervisor–next Wednesday, to reading four chapters of Trauma class readings, and contacting possible therapists as I will need to be in therapy as I am working with the clients that I will be helping.

I have signed up for two yoga classes this weekend.

I have plans to see my people, two back to back sit downs to read and do the deal on Saturday.

And yes, I think I will, a nice little mani/pedi at the local nail salon as well as some eyebrow help, they’re starting to get a little out of control, as they do.

I may take myself out for a nice lunch.

I am thinking I will go out to dinner tomorrow night and do some fellowship.

Dinner somewhere in the NOPA neighborhood.

Sunday a day with a friend in San Leandro.

Sunday night a quick visit with a friend in the neighborhood.

And bam.

See.

I told you.

It’s Monday.

And somewhere in there I need to do food prep and cooking and I have entertained the possibility of writing my Trauma reflection paper.

Just to have it the fuck out the way.

Especially since I am going to be working an extra weekend this month.

I was also asked to work next Friday by a family I used to work for and I had to say no.

I am going to help out my current family the last weekend of the month, basically work a Saturday and a Sunday while the dad is away on work, the days won’t be super long, granted, but not having any days off will be challenging and I’m pretty aware of that.

I have turned down two gigs recently.

The one to work next week and a wedding in Napa.

Part of me considered very seriously both propositions.

The extra money would be nice, but.

I really want to see the boys I used to work for, but.

I just can’t do it.

I feel like I need all the reserves I can get to just get through my work and my school work and the additional stress of figuring out all the practicum stuff has been wearing on me, I am hoping, so hoping, that the Wednesday interview, before I go to work (which I might as well get used to, I’m going to be working with a supervisor once a week for two hours before I head into work for a year) and interview with him.

Please say yes mister supervisor.

I don’t have much energy to keep looking.

I am also looking for a therapist.

The first one who was referred to me couldn’t fit me into her schedule.

But she was super helpful and offered to refer me out and I said yes please, of course, I haven’t heard anything else back, but I tried.

I just emailed another therapist tonight too to keep that ball rolling.

I will have to be doing it as part of my program and I have to be doing it while I see clients.

This is good and I am rather looking forward to it.

And frankly.

After two years of studying and training and practicing how to be a therapist I’m ready for a little of that love to be turned back around on me.

In some ways, it has, especially in the actions that I took today and over the last week, in regards to what I can do, how I can take care of myself and what I need to do to take care of myself.

Like.

Not working on my days off.

Ok, yes, I am working that weekend for my current family, but we negotiated easy hours for me, a big break, payment in cash, and I’ll get my meals covered and probably have a fun field trip type day out with the charges.

It will be a fun adventure.

And yes I will be tired, and yes, I will need to be gentle with myself.

Which is also why I said no, to the other two queries, and the best thing about it?

God damn.

It felt like such a win.

I didn’t justify or explain my response.

I said simply in both cases, thank you so much for thinking of me, which is true, but no thank you.

It is nice to be thought of, it is nice to be the type of person that others want you to work for them, that they want you so much that even though they think I probably can’t (both parties said it, it was sweet), they want me bad enough that they’re going to ask either way, just in case.

I was flattered.

And though I felt momentarily guilty about taking care of myself over taking care of others.

I got the fuck over it.

Self-care people.

It really is a thing.

So.

Here’s to me doing some sweet, kind, generous, loving things for myself this weekend.

So that I may be sweet, kind, generous, loving, and caring to those around me.

Now excuse me.

I have to put on my oxygen mask before assisting others to the exit slide.

Heh.

 

 

Look At You

March 11, 2017

Beautiful!

“I miss you and your flowers,” she finished and gave me a big hug, “make sure and spread your love around we need it.”

That was a very nice way to end the first day of my three-day weekend of classes.

A big love hug from one of my favorite professors.

It was really good to see her and also to just take a moment to reflect on how far I have come.

It was about two years ago this month that I found out I had been accepted into the Masters program where I am at.

So much has changed for me from making that decision and following it up with some actions.

Actions that often felt tiny, small, inconsequential but ended up leading me here, now, in my second semester of my second year of a three-year Masters of Psychology program.

Not too bad.

Not too bad at all.

And so much of the work has been showing up with faith in the process.

I’m still not 100% sure what I am going to do, but I have so much more clarity and I have direction and I have, now,  a couple of years of doing the work under my belt and I know that I can do the work, which is huge.

It’s also exhausting.

I am tired.

I mean.

Tired.

Sometimes the transition is a challenge, the one where I am getting up an hour and a half earlier than I do on the weekdays, the one in which I skip having a weekend off, the one in which I have to show up, suit up, and participate, instead of sleeping in.

I got an adorable text from a friend in regards to it being the weekend and Friday and I laughed.

Which is better than bursting into tears, my Friday is more like a hard-core 11 hour Monday after working a full week of work.

Followed by another eleven hour day and then a seven hour day and then it’s Monday again and I get to go back to work.

Fuck.

I’m tired thinking about it.

I always make it through.

Some of that time I am more caffeinated, but I had to cut it out after a certain point today otherwise my brain would be up half the night attempting to process all the stuff that I went through during the day in class.

And I went through a lot of stuff.

I’m actually doing work now.

Sigh.

Ugh.

Turns out I missed a podcast that I needed to listen to for my Trauma class.

So.

Yeah.

Homework on the weekend I thought I had it all done.

Oh well.

So it goes.

It’s an interesting podcast, there is that.

I just want to finish my tea and watch an episode of America’s Next Top Model.

Shh.

Don’t tell.

I mean I would like to wind down, but I also know that I am trying to balance it all out and be present and have done the work and yada, yada, yada.

I am glad though, to be in class, to see my cohort, see my friend, have an impromptu lunch at a sushi spot with a friend in the program.

Good to connect and reconnect.

I got to see people I care about and love.

To know that I have another community of people to connect with is a great deal to me that I was never expecting to get out of the program.

An extra unexpected gift.

The friendships, the hugs, the conversations, the people who have expressed their affection for me and for my journey.

It is a blessing.

I’m excited for all of us, for the path being travelled that we are on, oh, I know, our paths will fork and people will change and go on their different ways, but we have this time together, these three years and it is an incredible experience.

Nope.

I don’t always want to be vulnerable, I don’t want to process, but I do, I grow, I change, and as I turned down a few invitations to do things this evening, I know that I was doing the thing that was going to best take care of me in my person and show up for class as rested and as ready to participate and share my experiences.

The relevant ones.

Sometimes I don’t share, sometimes the gory details are shined up a bit, but really I am pretty clear about who I am and where I have been and, now, where I hope to move towards.

It’s been an opening of a new part of me.

I am appreciative and honored and sometimes.

Well.

Yes.

Tired.

But.

Here’s to working a little extra, doing a tiny bit more, taking one more little step towards that goal.

I don’t need to know where the end goal is.

Oh.

And look at that.

Podcast done.

Blog almost done.

Ready for a spot of tea and then.

Yes.

Some rest.

So I can get up and do it all over again tomorrow.

See you on the flip.

Where.

I will be.

Ready to teeter totter a few more baby, albeit tired, steps down the road.

 

Serenity Now!

February 16, 2017

I couldn’t figure out why I was in such a mood this morning.

Not a horrible mood.

But just a bit flat.

I’ve been doing a lot of Trauma reading for class and I wondered, am I getting into it, the reading, too deeply, am I dissociating?

Then.

Ha.

I realized.

Oh.

Hello.

You haven’t had a day off in ten days.

You’re not dissociating.

You’re just fucking tired.

Heh.

And the tired went its way once I got moving.

I am grateful that I let myself take it real slow though, on my way to work I saw a motorcycle accident.

The rider was being attended to on the ground and his cycle was broken, I mean broken and in bits all over Lincoln Avenue.

There was a cop taking a statement from the person I am assuming was the person driving the car, he looked shaken up and it was pretty obvious what had happened.

He didn’t see the motorcycle and he accelerated into the turn and hit him.

Lincoln is a two lane road in both directions, but heading in from the outer avenues always feels a little tense, as there are a lot of cars that are pulling into the right hand lane and there are also cars parked on the right hand side of the road, the visibility is low and I learned very fast to stay in the left hand lane on my scooter as much as possible.

It was a bit spooky and I rode the rest of the way into work at a slow, measured, calm pace, no lane splitting, just cool and relaxed.

Having done the commute enough times now on my scooter I have a better idea of how to gauge the timing on it and I knew that I was fine to take it at a more mellow clip.

Grateful for that.

I would rather be a little late than dead.

And I wasn’t late either.

Work was busy.

One of my charges was home sick from school.

That always makes for a little extra work.

But.

I felt very of service and I was able to rally her spirits enough with a promise of using the stroller to get her out for a little while when it seemed she had high energy.

We made it to the Upper Noe Valley Recreational Center and on the way I ran into a classmate from my cohort!

It was super nice to see her and give her a great big hug and then off to the swings and some hanging out in the sand box.

We didn’t stay long, my little charge ran out of juice pretty quick, but timing wise it was perfect.

By the time we got back I was able to have a quick bite, then turn around and hop on the train to pick up the other sibling from school.

He and I went to Dolores Park after pick up and ran around and played hide and seek and tag.

We were at the park for about an hour, then headed back to the house, grandma was on her way.

Yes.

Grandma visit for the next week or so.

The timing is nice for the family, next week is “ski week” at the school and all the kids are off, it’s sort of like an early Spring Break.

The family I work for will be staying in town.

I am not sure if my hours will be less or more than what they are now, I worked a little late for them today, but I’m pretty much guaranteed off by 6:30 p.m.

I also talked to the mom about Burning Man today.

She didn’t give the complete all the thumbs up in the air, she has to check out her calendar, but she said they would try to make it work!

She asked me to send her the specific dates and she would look into it.

So when I came home tonight.

Yes.

Yes I did.

I updated my Burner Profile on the Burning Man site and applied for the low-income ticket.

I had to write a little essay about what the event means to me, how I have experienced it, what I will bring to the event.

As well as show economic need.

The graduate school tuition bill will help establish that.

Heh.

I also sent them my W-2 and a copy of my paycheck stub.

All electronically.

It took me a minute to figure all that out, but I am amazed, I got it done.

I got a confirmation e-mail back and now I just wait and see.

The organization promises to respond within ten weeks of the application.

The Burning Man organization is allotting 4,000 low-income tickets this year.

They’re still expensive, $190.

But considering the current ticket cost is $425, it’s a bargain.

Of course, as always, I don’t want to pay anything.

However.

This year, for the first time ever, I am planning on going to Burning Man.

Not.

“Working Man.”

I have worked every single event I have gone to.

Ten of them.

And considering that I am in school and working full-time I just decided that it was about time for me to just go.

I can afford to camp and provide for my own needs.

I don’t have to work to get my costs covered.

I got a tax return.

There are funds that I can earmark towards infrastructure needs and getting to and from the event and you know, maybe some hair flowers and glitter.

Heh.

So.

Fingers crossed I get the time off and the low-income ticket.

If I don’t get either.

Than so be it.

I am happy to have just taken the actions.

I can let go of the results.

The results are not mine anyhow.

They never have been.

That’s up to God.

And.

Well.

God seems to like me out at Burning Man.

We have a good time hanging out together on playa.

So.

I don’t expect to get dropped this year.

Burning Man 2017.

Let’s do it!

Happy Monday Y’all

February 14, 2017

It’s been a damn good day.

Not that I am surprised or anything, but really, the difference between my last job and my current job continues to strike me with such amazement.

It’s been a long time since I have had the autonomy which comes from not having stay at home parents.

It feels amazing.

It’s not much different from how it used to be when I nannied, and yet, wildly different.

I have a lot of autonomy.

I do a lot.

But.

l also have a lot of down time, alone time, by myself time.

I’m super efficient and today I was done with everything that needed to be done at the house in an hour and a half.

I was able to sit, eat a nice mellow lunch, by myself, listening to music with a hot cup of tea and a bunch of my books for school.

Yeah.

I know.

I said I was going to give myself the day off from homework, but I had a feeling that I might get to have some time today to read and so, I just brought my books, just in case.

Grateful as all get out that I did.

I got in a good solid 45 minutes of work.

That may not sound like much.

But.

It’s 45 minutes more than I ever had at my old job and it’s 45 minutes less that I will have to do on my own time on my days off or before work or after work.

I’ll be getting a little bit more of that tomorrow as well.

And.

I’ll be running a bunch of errands on my own.

It’s been fabulous being out in the air, riding the trains, walking, taking the kids to the park.

Really so much more engaged and active.

It’s been blowing my mind and I’m super grateful for the time to have my own space and also that I am appreciated, really appreciated and constantly told how much.

I don’t need validation to do a good job.

But.

Man, it is nice to get it.

I’ve been complimented by everyone in the family for my cooking, I have had the mom tell me a number of times that I was a “treasure” and that I am a special person.

I feel warm and appreciated and if anything, it just makes me want to continue doing a good job for them.

We are a good match and I am grateful.

“See, your luck is changing,” my dear friend told me this weekend while we were catching up and having lunch in between classes.

Yes.

Life does seem to be evolving in a rather sweet way.

I feel like things are opening.

Like the plum blossoms on the trees, pressing their star-shaped petals into the Delphinium sky.

Spring has sprung and I feel really good and that I am moving into some very positive change.

Change happens all the time, but I often forget that it can be good even when it is uncomfortable.

I was reflecting on the fact that I’m in my second year of graduate school and all that change that has come with that.

I am in a new job and all that change that comes with that.

I have opened up myself to new experiences, new learning, new challenges.

I am traveling this year.

As is now my habit.

Man.

I do love to travel.

I still have not had a chance to sit down with the family and talk to them about going to Burning Man, I didn’t see the mom or dad today in a moment that would have worked.

I will and it will be fine and I realized that although, yes, I want to go, I will act in faith that whatever happens is what is supposed to happen.

I feel excited too.

Like there are more and more wonderful things happening.

I don’t feel as isolated as I have in the past and I feel grounded in my work and in myself.

I believe that I am also slowly getting into a routine with the new job and that certainly helps quite a bit.

Routines can help me navigate new situations.

Oh.

I want to be flexible enough to help out when I can.

And I do.

I got asked to stay a little late tonight as the mom and dad were juggling some big work stuff and I helped the dad make dinner while mom took care of business and the feeling of being in a warm space, in an environment that is beckoning, welcoming, and appreciative really made it no big deal to stay a little longer and help.

I still was able to get to where I needed to go tonight and connect with friends and fellows and do the deal.

Even though my head said, “nah, you could just go home and have dinner,” I found that it was an almost automatic response when I hit 7th and Irving to turn on my scooter’s turn signal and go where I needed to be.

To claim my seat, see my people, and get right with God.

Such a gift.

That.

Contrary action in the face of my thoughts, which always think they are right, don’t you, thoughts?

My thoughts are so often wrong I know at this point not to pay them too much attention.

Oh.

They nag at me once in a while.

What?

Single again on Valentines Day?

But.

For the most part.

I can softly turn down the channel on KFUCK and put on my preferred music station and get to the matters that help me clear the space to let in the light, to let in the real love, the real music.

The music of the spheres.

The spinning stars.

The full moon dropping into the ocean, it’s warm soft light piercing through the breaks in my bamboo shade over the back window.

A luminous reminder to look.

To see.

To appreciate all that is here.

This gift.

The present.

That continues to unfold.

Enwrap me and present to me on a continuous basis.

All that is.

Love.

Yes.

Love.

Bliss and blessings to you this Valentines Eve.

May it bring you untold joy.

Beauty.

And.

Grace.

 


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