Stop Looking For Yourself

I don’t fully understand the whole finding out who we are thing.
We have opinions and morals, we have our perspectives and positions, our perception and our values.
Yet
all those are capable of changing.

A 25 year age difference between partners is incredibly wrong to me.
Then I
live in a city where relationships like that are seen everyday.
At first it is weird, uncomfortable and even embarrassing.
In time,
I understand it and it becomes less wrong and more of just the way that it is and eventually, I am happy that I’m an individual that knows it exists.
Moral grounding for that, no matter how ingrained it was in my childhood, evaporates.

And I am then, one idea different.

You see,
we don’t need to go looking for ourselves.

We’re made up of time and experience. Of people, places and animals. Interactions and poor choices and good choices and feelings and learning.

We can have ideas, recognize patterns in our behavior and know our skills and comfort zones. We can know our boundaries, the foods that taste the best in our mouth and the colour that dazzles the greatest in our eyes.

But when you think you’ve found yourself, you’ll just find that there’s more to find. You aren’t a solid .
We just use that idea of finding ourselves because it’s less scary then admitting we’re all just lumps of experience.

And what is life but experience after experience.

So embrace that and kinda just let yourself be a fun, malleable heart beat.
Resisting life is the worsty thing you can do when all it needs you to do, is be.

And how do you be?

 

You be well, by meaning well.

 

 

 

Friday Night

I drank last night for the first time since March 11th 2016.

It was alright. I didn’t go crazy. I got real tired real quick. And at the end, I felt bad for the stupid dill pickle chips I ate.

Drinking kind of splattered my health kick everywhere. That’s a thing about drinking that I forgot.
I still feel rather drunkified.

But yuh know, sitting across from a 52 year old male who talks about his antique finds and putting my social skilling to use, was actually pretty rewarding. I reminded myself of what I was good at. It can be dangerous, but this time I know that. I know he’ll like me and want to see me again and that meeting like this, changes everything about our future encounters. I know that my skills still work and I’m more aware of them than I was when I last used them.

So anyhoozle, my night out interacting under the slight of influence was beneficial.
And that’s that!

 

 

 

 

A Long Post on a Meet Up

Yesturday after you were done with your stabby’d foot, and after texting on my break, you walked into the store.
I saw you before you saw me and my heart burst a glow and my face went insta’grin.

I came up to you and we flirted words and smiled shy and it brought me immediatly back to our first weeks of dating. It was like we fell into a pool of pre history. History that was new but known and I swam in it for the rest of my shift.

YOU CHOSE TO COME SEE ME AT WORK!!
That’s big.
Three weeks ago I wouldn’t have dreamed you’ve ever choose to see me again.

And before we parted ways, I squeezed your arm and said, ” Cya tonight?”
I had asked earlier if you would mind if I brought over a chicken pot pie I was going to make.
” No, I wouldn’t mind.” you reply.

So there I am after work, quickly working on your dinner.
And an hour later I am at your place with pie in hand and I ask,
” Do you want me to stay?”
We stand for 30 seconds well I try and gauge you.
“Hasn’t stopped you before”
” Well yes, but I think I learned my lesson.”

 

You guessed it.
We sat and had a drink. We moved to the couch.
You asked if I wanted another drink.
I said, ” Just water please”
“That’s the best answer I’ve heard all night”you say happily.

We talked about everynothings.
” Do you feel different now? Like a weight or an uneasiness is gone now? With you, with us?” you question.
” Yes, I suppose. I still felt clear to myself though,before, and happy with self, but it was just suffocated under all the stuff that was loaded on top. All the assumptions and supposed occurances. So then yes, I do feel lighter.”

It was a sliver into what I feel we will talk about in greater eventuality.
A solid healthy talk that we would need before getting back together. Weeks, months.

We ate my chicken pie together and you bought a dessert for us- my favorite cookie cheesecake- ( you are a beautiful soul ) and when i called my brother for a ride in two hours, your lips went into a frown and I came to you and you said,
” I wanted you to sleep over with me.”
Overjoyment gets wrapped around my intestines and comforts my heart and brain and I hug you and then we’re kissing against the fridge and clothes are coming off and then we’re in bed and then eventually we’re wrapped around each other and our eyes are facing each other and they’re getting sleepy and we lay there getting sleepy and pretty soon we’re asleep.

I rub your back and your head in the middle of the night when I know you are having trouble sleeping.

” I feel like I’m mad at you-like you just did something wrong” you say.
I sigh.
You tell me thanks in the morning for the backscratch.
We have coffee together and you’re always a bit more distant than me but I know that I’m to be extra huggy so that you don’t feel even worse.

And you drive me home in your truck that I crashed a month ago.
And you drive slow and before pulling into my parents driveway, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get to your side and wrap my arms around you and kiss your cheek.. Long and slow and you sigh and reach for my hand.

Then I’m getting out and we’re saying ‘cya’ not ‘goodbye’ like we were a month ago.

We know we’ll see each other again. We’re still best friends.

 

 

Mental Quicksand

Convincing yourself of general happiness.

I’ve had waves of attacking life as it is, recently. By vigoursly being happy with it all. With choices and attitude; and accepting that it is like that and that it is fine like that.

The battle to change big parts of self, seems like exhaust of failed effort.
That I am not winning it.

Taking a different approach seems like a valuable idea.

Actions that are more doable are not necessarily the best of ones,I know.
But I will continue making excuses about my weak and wavering temple of mind.

Not feeling ready to change or not wanting to or because the difficulty level is at a maximum.

Is is because of my current position in life?
Am I trying to run against a current that I haven’t even been able to walk in?
Perhaps letting the current slow, or walking to a place where the white caps are more like ripples and the rocks more like mud, is the better alternative.
And going with the flow instead of against, even a better one.

Getting to a place or creating a space in mind that tells me I’m not battling, but simply living- and loving it.

Oh, how far down can one get when the struggle is only weakening the player.
Before the weakness becomes the injured. The defeated.

A lot of strength comes from pushing through. From riding those waves of uncertainty with direction and purpose. Not changing their momentum or curve, but changing the perception of position.
For if that is where ones mind is strong- in the ability to warp perception and believe in it, then boldness and unwobbled legs will manifest.

And the deepest pool is mind juice.
Where swimming in that stuff long enough does more than just wrinkle skin.

Like quicksand, the harder you flail, the more you move, the faster you sink.

Are Some of Your Outlets Suffering?

There’s been little time for stillity in the brain. I’ve been going and going for days now and I can feel myself trying to climb out, needing the air to breathe sense into my head.
Afterall, three weeks prior to this, I had that stillness every single day.
Somehow, in all of this whirring, I have gathered bits and pieces of moments, of people and most importatly, myself.

One of the things I have learned about myself this past week is how I have put much emphasis on writing since I knew what it felt like to do so.
I know it feels good to get it out this way but I wonder if other outlets have suffered.
It has not affected the ‘how’ I socialize, but the ‘what’. The ‘what’ I have talked about all these years.
It almost feels like an avoidance…that writing out serious matters justifies my lack of serious face to face matters. And in depth conversation makes for deeper relationships.
So have my relationships suffered as well?

Now that I am aware of this, I will attempt to talk about what I have written.
This post included.
Because this too, makes a difference.

People and Their Love and Then Mine

I wonder if I don’t trust love, because of the way I have loved in the past.
I wonder now, when people tell me they love me, if I have a harder time believing it.
I don’t know if I’ve ever believed in love I’ve had for my boyfriends.
Once the relationship was over, I always questioned if what I felt was really love,because of what I was doing. I wonder if I have ever loved outside of my family or best friends.

Everyone has their own idea of love.
But what if it is just as messed up as what mine has turned out to be.

I didn’t ever think I was a good lover because I knew I was not. But I still sailed on the idea that I was capable, just like everyone else.
But recently I have been asking myself, am I able to?

Will I ever love a man as much as he loves me?
Is it because I haven’t found that person, or is it because I have not found the truth inside of me that enables me to.