Thanks and Reflection

Thanks for the Traditions

Thanksgiving is always a delicious affair. I bring a dish and the family receives my humble offerings with delicious mains, salads, desserts, and appetizing foods I have no idea how to track in my macros tracker. Homemade food is the most decedent, delicious, drool-worthy affair.

And the food coma is REAL folks. I knock after dinner every time. And, if you’re like me, you skip breakfast and lunch and save all that calorie loading for that dinner. Oooooo Mama!! Nothing tastes so good as the Thanksgiving dinner.

Tomorrow is a spot of shopping – okay, I’ve been shopping the past few days – but tomorrow/today, our family will complete our annual clothes shopping tradition. No, you will not see us in a mall or major chain store, in fact, we avoid such places during this shopping mania like the plague. No, we will be heading to a lovely store with the best variety where hardly any violence will occur aside from a toddler or two hauling down some hangers in a fit of impotent rage.

We go early in the morning and finish when most folks are devouring a rushed brunch. We spend the drive talking, catching up on our lives while apart -even though we talk/call each other every day. Oh how we laugh and chat and smile, the soul rejuvenated by the love from each other to one another.

Then spend time with friends: meeting, talking, eating, catching up on each other’s lives and updates after being so long and far apart. As adults we are spread across the country, so the few within range meet up and spend time together. I’m wondering if in the future we can skype our far away friends in -some of us have moved too far to visit. I imagine we will go to meet them sometime – if they can host, or we can host. We’ll see what we shall see.

Then spend time with friends: meeting, talking, eating, catching up on each other’s lives and updates after being so long and far apart. As adults we are spread across the country, so the few within range meet up and spend time together. I’m wondering if in the future we can Skype our far away friends in -some of us have moved too far to visit. I imagine we will go to meet them sometime – if they can host, or we can host. We’ll see what we shall see.

I am grateful for this opportunity to spend time with family and friends and engage in meaningful dialogue.

Reflection

For me, Thanksgiving harks as a period for reflection. I wake up this morning a few hours after midnight and find myself thinking about the past year, the past five years, and the present.

If I plotted my journey as a line graph or trend line, I think a year ago from today would have been the start of an uptick, a bend in the curve. Not immediately but gradually, I’ve turned things around. It took a lot of reflection on who I am as a person, who I want to be, and the gap between. Then identifying tools and strategies to help me close that gap and be the person I know I can be.

Today I am closer. It’s been a year of this new direction, and while I’ve whined a lot on this blog –LORD Have I whined!!– it was to a purpose.

Silence gives something power. At least, this is what I have come to believe. Holding it in, silent and stewing, brews a poison in the heart and soul. Talking it out, to yourself, to trusted friends and family, and to strangers helps. Gain perspective, purpose, and best practices for the future by talking and getting feedback/advice.

It is strange  how time changes things. Time and healing.

While I do not wish my bad experiences on anyone, least of all myself, it has helped me to grow because I was able to turn my pain into something positive and beautiful. The process was ugly; the outcome, astoundingly positive.

I went from ignoring my reflection and thinking badly of myself, to looking proudly every morning thinking how sexy and hot I look. That I’m beautiful – believing it and not just saying it!- and that I’m smart and capable. That I can be athletic and strong in body, that the gym isn’t a scary place to avoid, and that I can be and do all the things I set my mind to.

That I don’t have to be alone. That I have friends and family, and while they aren’t a hop and skip down the road, they are always with me, in my corner.

I am blessed.

Thanks for the lessons, no thanks for the negative experiences.

From the muck of the pond, a lotus blossoms.

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Fallen Glass Chards

The crash behind me made me cringe.

It could only mean something had gone horribly wrong. Perhaps I shouldn’t have jumped at that spider with a shoe. Maybe if I had let it live, and been more careful, I wouldn’t have bumped the bookshelf of metal and glass.

Then I wouldn’t be sweeping up the pieces five hours later.

Glass in the carpet, on my bed, on my skin, cuts on my fingertips, glass in my books and glass in my thoughts. I wondered if the tiny, nearly invisible slivers could float through my bloodstream through a cut or something, slicing me up on the inside till I bled out. Or maybe a shard would get in my eye from the bed covers. Or I’d forget to not walk barefoot and store some pain in my soles.

For a moment, I was convinced a piece of glass had somehow landed in my ear. Stay tuned…

Only 1 out of 4 shelves had shattered, no piece was left in tact. The stress of… whatever impact had caused a spiderweb of veins to snake throughout the glass. Mostly cubes of 1/4 inch glass squares throughout the room.

The first few moments were shock. Then cleaning without thinking about it. Collecting all the books that had fallen, the hair products and trinkets scattered on the floor. At first I mindlessly swept and tried not to get shredded.

Then I started looking through the books more closely. I hadn’t read some in several years now. Why was I keeping them? They needed to go.

So a paper bag for the glass and another for the books.

I hadn’t worn cologne in several years, why did I still have 3 bottles of them? More to donate.

Did I even use these hair products anymore?

Toss.

Why do I still have this much stuff?

Oh, right, I stopped decluttering… stopped reducing my stuff while continuing the search for mental clarity and peace. How had I forgotten the peaceful meditation of getting rid of something?

Why did I still hang on to stuff for my fantasy self?

Why did I let myself be held back by fears and worries and…stuff!?

Glasses on, I continued to sweep, grateful that the lens would keep glass flecks from flying up into my eyes. I pondered my fears -I need to get healthy, I need to be more social, I need to be… less needy….

I moved on to my desk covered in papers and delayed decisions. Why did I have flashcards when I hadn’t used them since college? What about rechargeable batteries that I lost the charger for? Pens I’d never use, wall putty from 10 years, still unopened and probably unusable, and a tiny stapler that never worked properly.

I still had it from when I got it in high school…

Stuff. Stuff. So much stuff.

I can’t believe I’m still wading through stuff.

I had done a first major purge last winter, reducing my possessions by 65% – yeah, I did the math- and yet I seemed to have missed some things.

Or, maybe, It’s because I bought some things. Correction, I replaced some things with higher quality, better items. Quality of items had improved, broken items had been replaced, some much needed purchases had been met.

I was surprised that I missed some things to get rid off.

But maybe, I’d gotten nose blind. It was finally time to do more. Time for the second purge, or the third, whichever one it is now.

Time to resume the journey of minimalism.

It’s just too bad I had to break something I loved to figure that out.

Omelets and eggs, right? Stupid…

So I got 4 bags of things to give away/donate. And I feel like I’ve once more grasped something I’d forgotten.

Ouch!

Looks like I missed a piece. *sigh…

2016 -Nailed it

A swift look into last year’s “yesterday”.

Resolution

Last year’s resolution was control.

I imagined, at the time, that like a Dom chaining down their Sub, I would finally be in complete mastery of all the things in my life that I felt so helpless about.

In truth, it was more about learning about the spheres of control. Some things are within reach and scope, others are not. Some things are frankly quite beyond my control and I’m perfectly okay with that.

It was about accepting responsibility Continue reading 2016 -Nailed it

Coffee #20: Vacation… a Foreign Creature

Right. Just lie back and relax.

RELAAAAAAAX.

REL- Okay, I can’t do this, where’s my work email?

Awful! Literally can’t relax…4 days later. I’m taking some hard earned time away to recharge after almost two years since my last big vacation (longer than a 3 day weekend). And day 1-2 was travel. Day 3 was me being tense as fuck. And here I am in day 4, finally getting used to ignoring work stuff and taking time out for me.

Now, I just have to wrangle the hypercritical and “just chill” voices in my head. And all the other inner dialogue voices.

Continue reading Coffee #20: Vacation… a Foreign Creature

When Life Lemons Arrive

“When life gives you lemons…”

I haven’t yet created my own ending to this verbiage. A unique and clever twist of my own design still eludes me.

Prior conclusions do not flow or fit. There is no clever wisdom, nor delightful humour. Just classic yet stale overtures.

 

If I did create my unique ending to this phrase, I’d follow along these lines…

“When life gives you lemons? Don’t make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! GET MAD!

‘I don’t want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these?!’

Demand to see life’s manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am?! I’m the man who’s going to burn your house down! With the lemons! I’m going to get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!”

— Cave Johnson, Portal 2

So… sour or sweet?

Identity #8: F**king February

meditation-833864_1280

Dissociation leads to isolation
Isolation leads to hate
I hate the dull February
Where happy thoughts drown with sadistic glee
Into the depression of the gray

February 6, 2016

Attending a mixer at work, I found myself floundering for introduction.

“Hi, nice to meet you! My name is _____.”

“___? Nice to meet you I am ____.”

Continue reading Identity #8: F**king February

Coffee#15: ICU – I… See U

ICU – intensive care unit                                                        ICU – (slang) I see you

But nobody does. And no one can fix it.

“You aren’t as [fucked up] as you think you are.” Yeah, you can say that now, but you don’t know. You don’t know me yet. To be fair, nobody does.

That, THAT …is how it is. How it’s meant to be.

It’s hilarious. No one sees it, but I do.


Stop

The

Madness.

Enough.

Yank the cord on that record player. You know the one. The one with permanent negativity on loop. The one that tells you

you’re worthless
shit
nothing
fucked up
useless
unwanted

Because that voice is a liar.

Continue reading Coffee#15: ICU – I… See U

Coffee #9: (Psycho) Delic

balls-748448_1280Psychedelic: 1950s -formed irregularly from psyche1 + Greek dēlos ‘clear, manifest’ + -ic.


Ice. Cold. Welcome to the four seasons.

It’s the season when “hot” cups of coffee is demanded at scalding temperatures.

So, I’ve lost feeling in my tongue from burning it all week. I have nooo idea how this stuff tastes.

I hope you made good tea. I’m trusting you, here.

 

Clear, Manifest

The year 2015 was a time of much reflection. The first time in many years that I slowed down. Stopped frantically hoping from project to project. Test after tests, hurdle after hurdle.

Never thinking. Reflecting. Contemplating. Expanding.

So I finally did.

And now, in 2016, I’m still reflecting, unpacking, dredging up stuff I thought I had forgotten. Things I have forgotten.

May I make an allegory?

There is a house, with many rooms. You spend time in some rooms more than others. But there is one closet, deep in the wing, way back in the corner of that one room you never enter anymore.

You made it off limits to yourself. You wanted to forget it was there.

But now you’re back.

You open the door, and the must and dust kicks up and makes you sneeze. You snap on the light, and the grey cobwebs sketch against the pale walls. The closet is crisscrossed with chains and locks. You hold a ring of keys that jingle as you cross the room, past the table and chair where the light hangs above, and approach the door. The keys grate through the locks, one after the other, the chains slam to the ground.

The last one falls away. You reach for the doorknob, and give it one final twist-

And stuff explodes out everywhere.

That’s what it’s like for me.

Disorganized stuff erupting all over, and now I’m pick the pieces up and trying to make sense of it all. Understand how all of this is me.

Eggads!!

People are So fricken complicated…

 

New Leaf

So, I’m changing myself. On the outside.

Say hello to the diet. I’ve been on this diet before, and it worked out great. Then I got stressed, shut down, and stuffed my face. For the billionth time.

I was so angry afterwards. I’d fucked up and it was my fault entirely. I did a lot of planning and thought to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Now is execution time.

I appreciate that people say that I’m fine, and look great without a diet. But let’s get real, I dress well, so I can hide how bad it is. And I know my body, and what is normal aches and pains, and what is a slow death by fat. I love that people are supportive, but that’s almost counter productive for me.

I need to do this, I need to be better, have better control of myself.

Exercise some fucking discipline for once.

Nothing worse than personal failure.

So, I’m not giving myself up again. I’m not giving up on myself. I’m the only one who can get myself where I need to be.

But diet isn’t just the end, it’s only the beginning.

I implement exercise shortly. It’s a gradual thing, I’ve never exercised seriously, without being forced in gym class or otherwise, ever in my life, and I’ve never had a good example in my life, growing up, for consistent exercise regimes. Not my father, not my mother, nor anyone else.

So will be me, starting from less than scratch.

I’ll learn, I’m good like that.

Thank kakarot for Google.

 

Disjointed

If my dialogue here isn’t as smooth, it is an accurate reflection of me lately.

Equilibrium will return, I’m sure.

Once I can sleep.

Oh, yes, my sleep, or lack thereof. I haven’t gotten much sleep this week, but I’m working on that too.

 

Failure

I hate Arrow (2012) now, and I can’t take it seriously. But one thing does echo in my ears.

The part when Oliver shouts “___, You have failed this city!!”

My inner dialogue eats it up. Like it’s sugar frosted sin.

Now, everywhere I go, I have this inner dialogue of “You have failed”, cycling in the background. My inner soundtrack.

Sometimes I enjoy torturing myself too much.

 

So, yeah, no HE – happy ending

I’d rather be honest than forced to lie.

Here it is. And in conclusion, I am human. I have good days and bad. This just happens to be, not such a good day.

So, just give me a hug. And let’s finish our tea, and stare out at the skyline covered in snow. Let us sit in silence with our thoughts.

Let nature do it’s thing and wipe the day clean.

Let’s start over.

Tomorrow.