Posts Tagged ‘walk towards the open door’

Everything Is All Right

October 4, 2016

I mean.

I woke up this morning at 6 a.m.

Rested.

Relaxed.

And fucking fine.

Dare I say?

Right as rain.

I have no clue why, well, actually I do, I did some inventory last night before bed and sent it off to my person and that feels really good and I’ll probably do another bit of it tonight.

And fuck.

This shit works.

So grateful for a solution.

And that I have people I can bounce things off of when I am in a funky place in my head.

The sads passed.

I have no real idea, still, what I was sad about, sad happens.

Now.

The 20 month old today was SAD.

And loud and upset and had a huge melt down and there was no reading school books in Who Ville.

There was only calming down the baby who was having some big time abandonment stuff around the mom leaving.

She figured out that when I show up the mom is going to leave.

It is always heartbreaking and depending on the age it can be a bee line right into a temper tantrum.

And that’s what happened today.

Not the longest one I have ever experienced, but the poor little mite wore herself out with it and was sleeping on my chest by 9:45 a.m.

Hours.

I mean, HOURS, before her scheduled nap time.

And.

When I put her down in her crib she got really upset all over again, so I just took her out and let her sleep on my chest.

At times it was restful and lovely, in fact, for most the time it was restful and lovely.

The view was of Twin Peaks–they are at a high point in Noe Valley–and it was swathed in grey and the light rain and mist and fog swirling around were relaxing to watch and meditate to.

I got some quite time and though there were minutes of being annoyed, they passed quickly, that I wasn’t getting a fat juicy nap to do my reading for school, most of it was serene and soft and nice.

I mean.

Really nice.

She is a super sweet and very smart girl and it was a pleasure to work with her.

Tomorrow back with my regular family, plus an interview with a mom that was referred to me.

Then Wednesday, back to Noe Valley.

Thursday and Friday in the Mission.

And though I’m not a 100% behind all the moving around it feels like it’s a temporary thing and I am enjoying having some extra cash in my pocket as well as connecting to a very sweet family and their adorable brood.

Plus I am enjoying, immensely, being able to get out to the that thing I do in church basements every day this week.

That feels huge and really nice to get plugged in.

It always takes a week to get re-oriented after a weekend of grad school work.

I have a lot of stuff coming up on my plate around that, when won’t I?

But.

I am just doing what I can every day this week and letting go of the results.

I will have to write a paper this weekend, probably Saturday afternoon as my person is going to be out of town and we won’t be meeting and doing our normal Tart to Tart routine.

I was also thinking about how I heard a gentleman tonight talk about the stresses of school and I was like, brother, I hear you, and hmm, you are cute and want to start a make out group?

Er.

Hahahaha.

A study group.

Yeah that.

Sometimes the door opens right next to the door that shuts and as I walked past the shut door tonight I realized, wow, there is no there there.

And I had so much compassion.

For myself.

For the shut door and I got to let it go.

Oh.

Granted I got to talk it out a little tonight on the phone too, “oh, ho, I think there’s something still there, your voice sounds like a hammer every time you say his name.”

Oops.

“Men know when you are angry at them,” she concluded.

“Do some inventory and the next time you see him, give him a big hug and say, ‘it’s nice to see you’ and walk away.”

Yes.

I like that.

And hey, walk toward the open door.

Or stop looking for the open door and just do your homework.

Which is really what I’m all about.

That and seeing what happens regarding work.

I’m actually really starting to contemplate what it would look like if I took the position that I’m interviewing for tomorrow.

Granted.

Yes.

It’s only 30 hours.

But if my current employers want to keep me, and they do, two shifts a week, it could work.

I’m just going to show up and see and not have expectations.

Expectation leads to resentment.

I do have any more need for that today.

Really.

l am just relieved to feel so much easier in my skin, lighter, looser, like I am actually wearing life like a loose garment.

Yeah.

Yeah.

I know.

Cliche.

But sometimes there is a valid reason for the cliche, there’s a nugget of truth in it.

I could sense it when I was scootering up Lincoln Avenue on my way to work, the grey sky sprinkled rain down and the earth smelled so good, so alive, the pine needles in groves, the freshness of the morning.

I couldn’t believe my mood had lifted that much.

But it had.

And for that I am grateful.

Grateful that I know to show up and suit up, hey more cliches!

And to do that thing, whatever it is, that action, that is right in front of me and not get hung up on outcomes.

So much easier said than done.

Fuck me.

I can’t stop now.

Ha.

Anyway.

I’m feeling happy, joyous, free.

And it’s fucking right on.

Seriously.

 

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He Walks Away

January 18, 2015

The sun goes down.

He takes the day.

But I am grown.

My tears dry on their own.

And like that.

I am single again.

The man and I ended it last night.

Nine weeks to the day of our first date.

It felt longer.

I dare say because I was so present for so much of it.

Oh.

There were things, issues, stuff, the stuff of life, the things that happen, the shut down, me, I can shut down.  I can get silent, I can step away and my heart can break even when I know that there is no going backwards only forwards into that deep unknown of intimacy.

Into me you see.

Yes.

That.

When I am not being my self than I am not allowing for intimacy and boy have I learned a lot about myself over these past few months.

Again, really, it was just two months.

Jam packed months, my father’s accident, the trip to Anchorage and back, my birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, my sobriety anniversary.

I knew on my anniversary that it was over.

I knew last Friday that it was probably over after we had our get right with God conversation about what we both wanted from the relationship.

I am not going to focus on what he said to me, because that is not for your eyes, just for my heart and the confidence of a few close friends and mentors.

And thank God I made plans to be out dancing and celebrating my anniversary.

I was surrounded by people who love and care for me and told me how much they did and I was deeply moved, to tears, a number of times by the outpouring of love from my friends.

I am so lucky to have these relationships in my life.

I cannot help grieve that which is passing, I’m on the verge of crying right now, the grief it is very much there, sitting on top of my throat, heavy on my heart, but I know that I can walk through it and come out strong, more valuable and tempered, like steel in fire.

I have become that much more realized.

For having realized what I need in a romantic relationship.

Hell.

In all my relationships.

And that relationships, romantic or otherwise, take work.

Gobs and gobs and gobs of work.

It is easier to be single, I found out.

To do what I want, when I want, regardless of anyone else, to have my own agenda, to be safe, to be in a cocoon, to rest and take my leisure.

I want, however, to be in a relationship and I am going to keep dating.

I am not putting my heart up on a shelf to grow old and dusty and insensate with time.

Nope.

I mean, I’m not going to go re-open my OkCupid profile and I’m not going to Tinder and I am not going to go scroll through Face Book and find that special someone tonight.

My heart, she is sweet and needs to have a moment or two to let the man go.

Move aside and let the man go through, let the man go through.

To let go of the fantasy too.

He’s a perfect man.

I am a perfect woman.

And the relationship was exactly what it was supposed to be.

I can still have grief around it and sorrow and have feelings.

But I don’t want to wallow.

I don’t want to not put it right back out to the Universe.

Hey God, who do you want me to date, please show me and help me to move toward the man who you want me to be with.

A-fucking-men.

I didn’t know if I was going to write about it tonight after getting my dancing on with my friends at Public Works, which, in case you were wondering, was fantastic.

It started a little slow, but the groove was great and the Fleetwood Mac remixes and disco beat with a little Northern Stomp and Detroit four on the floor, was a delight to get my hips moving.

I needed that.

I needed that bad.

Sometimes a girl has to dance.

Sometimes a girl has to cry.

I’ll do that too.

I did a bit today, it would come and go in waves.

The sun on my face as I sat and ate lunch at an open table in the cafe and suddenly my eyes start leaking.

Or when I showed up to see my girlfriends at Firewood Cafe.

I dreaded going.

I dreaded walking up the hill in the Castro to the restaurant, I did not want to tell them, although I had already told my three best girls, that the relationship was over.

Done.

Kaput.

No more.

Although he wants to be friends.

And that’s a possibility, a good likelihood, not now, I don’t think now is the time, we both need space.

In fact we agreed to no contact for 90 days.

Which is actually longer than we dated, but felt right when we were discussing it.

And as I mentioned, the conversation, that’s private, but the actions taken, the sincerity of the speech, the honesty, the showing the fuck up and wo (man’ing) up, the being brave and walking through, not doing it over the phone or in a text, but person to person and with integrity.

That was an amazing experience.

Painful?

Fuck yes.

Jesus.

Please.

Bring me the box of tissue ok.

But honest, sincere, right-minded, real, I am blown away by how we both walked through it with the best of intentions and the most honesty that I have ever had in a break up.

I am extraordinarily grateful for that.

I sort of wanted to pat my teary self on the back for doing it and being open and allowing myself to be exactly there and me.

Well.

There was some self-deprecating humor on my part on one point, but really the levity was there and we parted ways clean.

It all feels very grown up and real.

Tiring too.

I am going to sleep better tonight I think; I hope.

It was hard to go to sleep last night and harder to stay in bed, I just got up and got moving.

I suspect I am going to have to sit in some feelings and not check out.

Just sit and feel them.

Let them pass through me and over me.

And when they go I will turn, stronger, face forward, and walk on.

Toward the man I am supposed to be with.

And when I meet him.

I will be ready.


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