I have
held my tongue
held my breath
held my heart
for way too long.

I just can't keep it in any longer
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If you are offended by the occasional wirty dord, obscenity, or naked truth please put on your sunglasses.

Wait.

I think you should all put on your sunglasses.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Is THAT What It is All About?

All of the crap we have to endure just prepares us for the more elevated forms of crap we have yet to endure?

Really?

That's it?  That's the goal?

A high tolerance for crap?

* * * * *

As I consider this, I think about Jesus (I'm reading The Expected One).  He had a high tolerance for crap (basically). 

Is that what enlightenment is?  A high tolerance for crap?

I suppose it is enlightened to be able to understand that from crap comes the flower of understanding:  Our ability to love and forgive both circumstance and others is a direct reflection of our ability to love and forgive both our lives and ourselves.

It is definitely enlightened to be thankful for fertilizer.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

What's the Point?

In an attempt to ward off Great Despair, I chose the “resolve my deep-seated psychological issues once and for all” shield of protection.

I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS.

I thought that, by enduring this experience, there would be some resolution or at least some grace to The Situation.
 
But alas...my Dad is still sick and I am still missing.  In addition to the bad taste in my mouth.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Human Nature

I'm quite fond of saying, “I'm not a fan of human nature.”

I guess that really means I am not a fan of myself.

Hm.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Who's Going to Piss on Me?

I just read this blog from the beginning. Damn. I should read this thing more often!

I had forgotten about my pledge to let go of at least 100 things that are pissing me off during 2010. Damn. The year is more than half over!

There has been (frenetic) activity, however, and so let me run through the list and see what progress I have made toward my goal.

During the First Ten Days of the Year, I let go of:
  • My general, overall anger.
  • My anger over the karmic mood swing that wiped out all of my hope and happiness.
  • My anger over all of the clutter. I hate clutter. Why is there so much of it?
  • My bitterness over all of the love and compassion and empathy I poured into the world and the only result is the obduration of my heart.
  • My resentment over my choice to not act out but instead act like a lady. For the record, “acting like a lady” is highly overrated.
  • My resentment over my choice to (physically) stay where I am. It is time for a disappearing act, time to pack up and move, but instead, I stay. I stay to endure the consequences of both my actions and my personality. I stay to endure the sting of alienation and failure. What kind of masochist have I become? What’s next? Getting married?
  • My bitterness that illumination has brought only clarity, not peace of mind.
That was a hell of a 10 days.

What I did not understand when I made my naïve declaration (“…while it may seem like the above should create more, additional, “things,” rest assured, I am letting all of those go, too.”) was that underneath the anger would be grief. Deep deep grief. Grief in direct geometric proportion to the amount of anger held.

While I let go of Anger, Grief held on.

For dear life.

Which is ironic because it made me want to give up on Life.

So, when one is engaged in a constant battle to not do something drastic and permanent, all of the things that used to bother a person simply don’t matter anymore.

For example, giving a God-damned rat’s ass what other people think. There’s just not enough energy for it in the struggle through the day.

Letting this go can lead to the letting go of a tricky form of anger: The anger that comes from trying to do what others want.

I mean, sometimes, you have to do what others want, like at work. I know this can dull the soul; that’s why “Happy Hour” was created. [1]  

But, I like paying bills so I choose to subject myself to someone else’s capriciousness for a mostly unreasonable amount of time. There’s some sort of reciprocity.

What I’m talking about is making myself extremely uncomfortable in order to appease someone who would not piss on me if I was on fire. The anger that comes as a result of that choice.
 
This form of anger is tricky because:
  • it can be hard (and painful) figure out who would and who would not piss on one if one were on fire;
  • it leads to another, deeper form of anger: the anger at oneself that comes when one realizes one has wasted SO MUCH time and energy on something SO FUTILE; and,
  • How many people actually know what they want? Do you know what you want? Exactly.

That last point is even trickier because the day you realize you have performed a ballet in the hope that someone who is not in the theatre will applaud is a very dark and cold day.
 
The best you can hope for is that it occurs in the middle of summer.



   
[1]  That’s also why Three Martini Lunches were invented. I think we should reinstate this very reasonable practice. Unexpurgated bullshit is so much easier to endure when one is temporarily numb.
 
I also think Mondays should start at 10 a.m., but I digress.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Do Over

So.

After all of that, after all of the crying and the sobbing and the railing against God, we get an opportunity to go through THE WHOLE THING all over again.

I sure as hell hope we get it right this time.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

I'm Not Going Back

It’s the last day of the most glorious four-day vacation I think I’ve ever had in my entire adult life. How wonderful it would be to stay and not go back all that.

What if I didn’t go back?

What if I stayed here?

What if?

That’s it.

I’m not going back.


Monday, July 5, 2010

Perspective

If one more person says to me “What is the lesson you can learn from this?” I am going to sock him/her in the head.

It just sounds like I am being punished, as in “I have not learned my lesson yet” and the flogging will continue until I do.

I *do* feel punished and have spent an inordinate amount of time on my knees and an incredible amount of energy trying to figure out the appropriate penance for whatever the hell I did in the first place.

To no avail.

So, in yet another attempt to make sense of the incomprehensible, I am going to STOP asking what I did wrong or to create this situation or what I am supposed to learn from all this.

Instead, I am going to be grateful for the gifts that come/came from this situation, even if they are silent and invisible. And not sparkly.

I know they’re there.

Maybe now I will finally understand what in the hell happened. What in the hell created the vacuum that sucked out all hope, joy and love.