However, because that relationship and some of my friendships have become fragmented, I have once again responded by isolating myself. I suppose I felt that there was less reason to celebrate now that the little family that supported me throughout those years was no longer together. Losing that sense of connection has affected my sense of self-worth such that it resembles the low opinion I held in my youth. This is apparent in how I had chosen to celebrate my 26th birthday. I was simply planning on completing assignments to "celebrate," considering finished work to be my present to myself. Rather than contemplate the changes and losses this past year has brought, I was simply going to focus on surviving in the present; I was hoping a sense of accomplishment would inspire the feelings of self-worth that little family used to bring (this isn't to say that I can't feel worthwhile in my own right, but feeling like one matters in the world can definitely enhance their own self-opinion).
So I meditated in preparation for this. In order to focus on breathing, I pressed my hands to my belly and started to sense the movement of my breath inside my body. Then this birthday issue crept back into my mind - I realized that on this day, 26 years ago, I breathed on my own for the very first time. My perspective shifted; despite the losses, this was still very profound and I needed to honour my own life and allow others to do so as well. Even the day is bittersweet to me and I want to ignore it so I don't have to think about what I've lost, I still have people in my life who value this day on my behalf. They want to share it with me as well, and to be perfectly honest, I really miss feeling connected to them. I cannot opt out of the very human desire to mark time; to speak and be recognized in the world.
Right around the time the aforementioned person walked into my life, I had decided that I would stretch my boundaries and open myself up to others. In my head, I knew I would get hurt. However, I felt that I had spent far too many years regretting all the things I didn't do because I was afraid of possible consequences. This time around I decided I would accept that risk and let the pieces fall where they may. In the end, I did get hurt. I have been stabbed in the back numerous times over the past couple of years, and I have desperately wanted to call the whole thing off and retreat from the world once again. But I am starting to realize that I can't go back. Now that I know what it's like to be open, have a voice, experience intimacy with lovers and friends; in short to matter - I can't pretend that I don't want to experience the world when I am really just terrified of loss.
Maybe I will come to experience joy, love, peace, connection again. In some ways, I know I already have. I know that these things will change; I know people will leave me, or I will need to move on myself. Once again, we will find ourselves parting ways. But I think of who I was when I was almost 24, and I admire her courage. I was young in so many ways and I don't want to lose that. At times I have felt older than time itself, and no amount of yoga could soothe the weariness in my heart. However, perhaps it is possible to let go of the dream of "forever" without closing the doors on the possibility of connection itself; in that case, the process of aging doesn't have to involve a deepening sense of despair and cynicism.
These days, I am learning the difference between acceptance and defeat. It involves letting go of what no longer serves me, but I am finding this to be this is a careful and meticulous art. Eventually, all all people, ideas, experiences, and beliefs will pass through my fingers. However, I do get some of them for a time. If impermanence defeated me, I would not allow that time to matter. But if I laid down my defenses and let death speak to me, she would tell me that brevity underscores the significance of life. The fact of death is no reason to throw the rest of life away; instead, it makes the rest of life worth holding onto.
I'm still alive.
I'm calling from 30,000 feet above you
The captain's just informed us that our plane is going down
So I'm calling for one last time to say I love you
I'm not certain how much time I may have left, so I'll be brief
I'm sorry if this message only amplifies your grief
But I couldn't bear the burden of never having said goodbye
And the pain you feel, I promise you, will go away with time
I'm sorry I won¹t be there to see our children grow
Please tell them that I loved them more than they will ever know
Tell my family and friends how much I loved them all as well
I"m sure that we will meet again, but only time will tell
I'm sorry most of all I won¹t be there when you grow old
To be there by your side and keep you warm when you are cold
Forgive me, but I think my time is drawing to a close
So I've one last thing to tell you now before I have to go
I...
In this moment, I am grateful for the wonderful people in my life, and those that have departed. I appreciate all of the experiences I have had, all of the love and bliss, as well as the despair. I have even learned from the betrayals; I can turn them into something less toxic. My friends' lives seem to be coming together; the pieces of my own seem to be merging as well. We are turning a corner, and I am excited to see what lies ahead. So much is possible!
I thought I would make a note of this; these situations aren't permanent but they are beautiful while they last. :)
I have found a sense of belonging and a level of discourse within the The Poliburo that reminds me of why I'm here. My last truly mind-blowing experience in a class already occurred a couple of years ago, when I was taking political science courses with a wonderful professor named Dr. Dube (think of all of the "teacher" roles Robin Williams has ever played, and you will get a sense of the influence he had on my intellectual and personal development). This time, the other students are playing this role. Although I attribute much of my success in this class to current maturity levels and the study skills I've developed, working with a group of intelligent, engaged students certainly helps. I generally prefer to work alone, and if I need to develop my thoughts on a topic I'll generally turn to my sister. It's a new experience to engage on that level with anyone else, let alone a group of people. I'm also the only woman in the group - a few years ago I might have found that intimidating, but not anymore. My experiences in this class indicate just how much I've grown over the past few years, and it's a great feeling to look back and see that all of the hard work has been worthwhile. I genuinely like who I'm becoming, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished.
The main reason I wrote this was to share a communique from one of the members of The Politburo congratulating us on all of our hard work in a very sincere, personal way. I've decided not to just to maintain confidentiality, and refrain from boring everyone with "insider" information, but the experience itself is worth noting.
I've lived so many lifetimes. Before I received this message, I was thinking of past experiences and people who aren't in my life anymore. It made me a bit sad. But this message made me aware, one again, of all of the beautiful things that are staring me in the face here in the present day. Sometimes I think I'm on my way out, but what's really happening is a new beginning. Things plod on with or without you, and I believe that is cause for celebration, not despair. :D
-From Days of War, Nights of Love - written by a group of wonderfully crazy and romantic modern-day anarchists
Lately I've been reflecting on the way I live, and thinking that I need to find an alternative to this binge-and-purge lifestyle. At times it's been overly-focused on only one or a few of the following: work, school, social life/relationships, my own inner world, or my body. Everything else tends to fall by the wayside. Without getting too much into it, I have recently learned that I process/internalize information in a way that tends to leads me to (unconsciously) choose such a lifestyle. For the most part it works, and I'll probably always be like this to an extent. But the things I let slide are generally still important to me, and it feels like I could be doing a better job of fitting everything in.
On the other hand, I suppose I need not get too upset over this current situation, since I am really only living this way for a short time in order to accomplish what I need to - with the hope of eventually moving on with my life. If anything, it's humbling - and maybe that's the lesson in all of this. Perspective is important; standing on my head might be a bit more difficult now than it was when I was practicing regularly, but I'm still healthy and in fairly good shape. I'm pretty grateful that I am actually capable of making the attempt.
I've noticed a trend among more recent entries. Some really difficult things have gone on in my life over the past year, but I've managed to become more optimistic than ever. Whenever I want to complain about my lot/growing old/academic frustrations/obnoxious events or people in my personal life/etc, I just can't be bothered to get stuck in that feeling of being trapped or victimized. It's a function of growing up, gaining perspective, and realizing that only I can take responsibility for the way I feel. I certainly have more options now than in my younger days, and that's a part of it. But there's an element of resilience there as well. I've always had a tendency to find and create my own opportunities, but that's become more apparent over these past couple of years. Realizing that stasis is a choice has been one of the most empowering little epiphanies to date.
Obviously, there must be something that prevents one from making a choice in their own best interests, and what that often comes down to is fear. The thing about fear is that it tends to vanish as soon as one confronts it. That been a huge challenge. But after the experience of going through hell and back (even running around the circles into the depths sometimes), and noticing that nothing has yet killed me, optimism seems less foolish than it has in the past. Taking it too far obviously causes blind spots. However, if one is optimistic simply because they've figured out that they're the only one driving, then there are huge possibilities for exploration and freedom there.
Anyways, that is onto another topic entirely. In the interests of continuing on a streak of productivity, the are readings in the queue. The possibility of freedom is a subject for another day, and there are many approaches to it that I need to parse and reflect upon. :)
The shock waves have been running through this entire year. I've won and lost, loved and died. I've grown tremendously, and pushed people in my life to do the same. They pulled back, and together, we arrived at this place.
Where are the directions again?
Just this once, cheers - to me.
Having a journal and a blog may prove to be redundant, but for now, we'll see how this goes. As it stands now, there may not actually be a great point in separating the two, but as that develops I anticipate that there will eventually be enough material there to merit a separate space. As far as my academic work/career is concerned, it may be useful to have something to share with other students and colleagues that doesn't reference my personal life. Although I have not tended to share the tawdry details of my personal life on here for quite some time, much of what I do choose to share publicly consists of vague references to that drama, or reflections on whatever emotional state said drama happens to be causing. So it's at least convenient to have examples of more "professional" work to share with those to whom I may want to maintain that facade, as well as a place where I can drop that and share frustrations/happiness with those who (kind of?) know me.
This is also a bit of a substitute for a larger personal site that has been sitting on the back burner for quite some time. By this point my personal and academic interests are varied enough that I could write quite a bit on many subjects if I wanted to, and I'm not entirely sure where I would focus my attention anymore. I also have a nerdy fascination with developing web sites myself, but since my skills are stuck in 2003, I'd have a lot of catching-up to do to even get that off the ground. So that's just not something I have time for at the moment.
Between this journal and the blog, I should be honing my writing skills consistently, in preparation for that book I want to write before I die. You have to start somewhere, right?
------------
Occasionally I still find myself the subject of abusive shit from people who have never left junior high school. In times like these, it helps to remember that I'm a better person. :)
contrasting with the hoarfrost,
clean and hung on a tunnel of silent shivering trees
(the ones you said you'd like to be),
and the birds that screamed at the sun
now buried deep down below the ground,
beneath the snow, I press my shoulder to this wall between us.
I know you are behind me and I press my shoulder to this wall,
determined not to turn around.
I didn't see you standing,
still that statue that I molded in my mind to kiss,
so beautiful you'll never move again.
Someplace far away, at some sad table littered with chipped plates,
with bad light,
in 48 frames from a movie on the cutting room floor,
you said "True meaning would be dying with you",
and though I wanted to, I did not smile.
But now I will give up on this wall that I have fought with,
never uncover meaning behind our rich words.
If I could I would make you a raging river,
with angry rapids, supplied with rain,
so you could always meander
and forever be able to run away
without contending with myths wrongly interpreted, with pain.
A harsh wind.
This is the first academic conference I've ever attended that actually has something to do with my work. Since the Centre's director wants to host a conference in Calgary next year, we'll be networking with women there in hopes of establishing relationships with groups doing similar work nation-wide. This is fantastically exciting! What I learn in the workshops will likely inform my own studies, and I'll probably find out a bit more about what my career options might be if I remain in this field (I'm trying to decide between academia and teaching). I'm finding my niche; I would refer to my occupation as "professional man-hater" but that kind of makes a mockery of something many people likely don't take seriously in the first place. ;)
I'm content at the moment, oddly enough. Life has stabilized on the personal front, so now I finally feel like I have a lot of freedom to really focus on building my career. This hasn't always been easy in the past, when it's often felt like my house of cards was crashing down around me in so many ways. Earlier today, I had to take a bus around my old neighborhood near the university to get to school; when that area was my landscape I was younger by a couple of lifetimes. Reflecting on years gone by is beyond what I want to do at the moment, but at least I can say that I am finding what I wanted out of life back then. I started out in a vacant apartment with my life in shambles; now that I've picked up the pieces I have to wonder where it all goes from here.
Last night Ryan and I went to Vicious Circle, and he told me how proud he was of me. That really meant a lot to me, since so much of what I study can be potentially alienating/threatening if you happen to be of the male persuasion. It's not like my own acceptance of it would be contingent on his approval (it's occurred to me that this field interests me so much because it sometimes feels like I've lived a great deal of my life with undue concern for the opinions of others, and men in particular; these ideas provide means of imagining something different). Even if it isn't entirely relatable, it's still great to know that he supports what I do and notices all the work I've put into this over the past few years. It is an accomplishment, and it's nice to have that recognized by one who is so close to me. :)
That's good to know.
On an intellectual level, these battles tend to irritate me because I often sense that much of the disagreement comes from a lack of understanding; ie, I have tended to have them with people who only know feminism as the perspective of disgruntled man-haters who need to get laid and/or become insecure when a women articulates interests that may be different from their own, viewing the world in zero-sum terms whereby every gain for women is inherently detrimental to men. It's extremely difficult to have a rational discussion with prejudices and misunderstandings. And while I can sometimes be disgruntled, it often has nothing to do with men; moreover, I have absolutely no problem getting laid if that's what I want. On the third count, ones' insecurities are their own problem, and don't necessarily indicate that something is wrong with a theory. :p
C'est la vie. It takes all kinds to build a universe.
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nessus stated this in his own journal, and it's a wonderful expression of self-acceptance. Not wanting to hijack his thoughts in his own space, I thought I'd reflect on the subject here. I first felt a bit of sadness when I read this. I related to what he said, because I feel as though I too have wasted a lot of time apologizing for who I am, and damning myself for falling short of what I perceived to be others' expectations.
When I was considerably younger, I blamed myself for ruining my mother's life. I've been unduly hard on myself for struggling to achieve my goals, without giving due respect to circumstances that would make this goal challenging for anyone, not just myself (I have instead perceived myself to be particularly inept). When relationships become difficult, I have tended to blame myself exclusively for the problems and taken responsibility for others' emotional issues. I have remained unsatisfied, staying in situations with individuals who just couldn't love anyone, including themselves (instead, thinking that things could change if I only "tried harder" to be what they wanted). I've backed down when I've had a great argument, just because I'd would rather avoid conflict in general, or didn't want to risk being wrong about something (when I was a kid, I was told to back down from fights. That was the worst advice I've ever received, but I unconsciously followed it for years). Fuck that - most of the time I know what I'm talking about, and when I don't, there is nothing wrong with asking questions.
I've lived my life with this huge fear of rejection, and have often suppressed beliefs, emotions, and desires that could potentially make me a subject of controversy. This defense mechanism rests on the assumption that I would face rejection if I revealed anything about who I really am. This also implies that I don't have the strength to survive even if they did - funny thing is that I've been rejected time and again and I'm still standing. Noticing this, these beliefs are changing, but it's truly amazing that some of us have such difficulties accepting ourselves.
In that past, I've told myself that I've been satisfied with all of this because at least these people have "put up" with me. But over the past year or so, various experiences have added up and I now *KNOW* that being agreeable has never brought me anything but extreme discontent. Since I have become less materially dependent on the support of others, I now have the safety to lose those emotional dependencies as well. I can't blame myself for not coming to this epiphany sooner - if being agreeable keeps a roof over your head, of course you'll learn how to do just that.
But now I no longer take the world on my shoulders and take the fall for others' shortcomings. A lack of apparent vulnerability doesn't indicate strength; if I can allow others' humanity, then I need to allow myself to claim it as well. I've learned that it takes an incredibly strong person to ask for help and have their needs acknowledged and met. I am not flawed, no one is just *putting up* with me; and if they are, then I don't need them in my life. I deserve to be treated with care and respect, and if I'm not going to treat myself this way, how can I expect the rest of the world to see that I'm worthwhile?
It's been a long road to get to this point. It's hurt like hell, and I've allowed others' to treat me like shit. Realizing that I'm worth more than that is only a first step, and it doesn't mean I will never get hurt again. But at least I expect more of people now, as well as myself. And if the rest of the world won't always treat me with kindness, at least I can show myself some compassion. I've noticed that if you ask for greater things, the universe tends to deliver - but it starts with taking responsibility for yourself.
My major is now Women's Studies (the Poli courses add up to a minor, and could potentially make up another major if I have the time and resources to attend school for another year). I call myself a feminist because these critiques seem to explain a lot of what has gone on in my life, and within the wider world. At least, in my mind it accesses a fragment of truth. Where would I be if I didn't learn to be so goddamn apologetic for who I am? If I was less agreeable, would I now know more about who I am and what I want? At the same time, I've formed amazing relationships that I wouldn't trade for the world, so perhaps I just need to learn how to strike a better balance between concern for others and self-regard. I am exited about my academic work because I may find some answers there - or at least, some extremely compelling questions that would allow me to explore this idea.
I'm trying to figure out what it means to be free.
I am still dancing and doing yoga and working on feeling strong but accepting those times when I am not. After travelling together, Ryan and I feel closer than ever, and he continues to make smile and laugh; he challenges me to believe in myself and grow. I am really proud of him for doing the same, and pleased that I get the opportunity to see this happen and play my part in it. Ashley and Ursula continue to inspire me with thier own progress, inadvertently asking me to take new risks just so I can keep up with them. I have this family I built and a home, a little bit of safety that I am finally beginning to really trust. I've found a lot of new friends with the group at the Centre, and it's really great that they all believe in my abilities and trust me to help take the program in new directions.
It's exciting. Looking back on my journal (trying to find an old quote about liminal states) really drives the general point of this home. Some constants remain, but I am not stuck in a rut like I used to be. I have had the courage to make difficult decisions that ended up changing my life in unimaginably positive ways; these instances outweigh the number of times I have miscalculated, refused to ask for help when I needed it, or was just willingly blind to the concequences of my actions. I have experienced so many things that I never dreamed were possible in my little corner in the world. I have loved and been loved; created work that makes people who know what they're talking about take notice; turned myself upside down and danced and laughed and felt warm sand between my toes while learning how to share my space and my heart with another. Apparently it's true; all of the soul-crushing experiences in academics and relationships have caused me to grow up and become a more self-aware person. Or at least, this reading of the past shows I have mastered a very useful coping strategy - seeing the bright side of things. Either way, life is good and I am pleased at the moment.
I realize this will all change, which is why I am jotting it down. Right now, in this moment, I am quite happy and am sending a little thank-you to the universe.
Lifting up an empty cup, I ask silently
All my destinations will accept the one that's me
So I can breathe...
Circles they grow and they swallow people whole
Half their lives they say goodnight to wives they'll never know
A mind full of questions, and a teacher in my soul
And so it goes...
Don't come closer or I'll have to go
Holding me like gravity are places that pull
If ever there was someone to keep me at home
It would be you...
Everyone I come across, in cages they bought
They think of me and my wandering, but I'm never what they thought
I've got my indignation, but I'm pure in all my thoughts
I'm alive...
Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere
Underneath my being is a road that disappeared
Late at night I hear the trees, they're singing with the dead
Overhead...
Leave it to me as I find a way to be
Consider me a satellite, forever orbiting
I knew all the rules, but the rules did not know me
Guaranteed
Julia Spicher Kasdorf
Among the first we learn is good-bye,
your tiny wrist between Dad's forefinger
and thumb forced to wave bye-bye to Mom,
whose hand sails brightly behind a windshield.
Then it's done to make us follow:
in a crowded mall, a woman waves, "Bye,
we're leaving," and her son stands firm
sobbing, until at last he runs after her,
among shoppers drifting like sharks
who must drag their great hulks
underwater, even in sleep, or drown.
Living, we cover vast territories;
imagine your life drawn on a map--
a scribble on the town where you grew up,
each bus trip traced between school
and home, or a clean line across the sea
to a place you flew once. Think of the time
and things we accumulate, all the while growing
more conscious of losing and leaving. Aging,
our bodies collect wrinkles and scars
for each place the world would not give
under our weight. Our thoughts get laced
with strange aches, sweet as the final chord
that hangs in a guitar's blond torso.
Think how a particular ridge of hills
from a summer of your childhood grows
in significance, or one hour of light--
late afternoon, say, when thick sun flings
the shadow of Virginia creeper vines
across the wall of a tiny, white room
where a girl makes love for the first time.
Its leaves tremble like small hands
against the screen while she weeps
in the arms of her bewildered lover.
She's too young to see that as we gather
losses, we may also grow in love;
as in passion, the body shudders
and clutches what it must release.
-------
I think I've pondered my educational/career options long enough today. Time to head outside into the sun.
Your result for The Attachment Style Test...
The Waffler
38% Anxiety Over Abandonment and 46% Avoidance Of Intimacy
You're not the most decisive person. You tend to be unsure what you want out of your attachments, and it's unlikely you've had more than mediocre relationships. Either that, or you've had some good relationships, and some bad relationships, and you're just between them at the moment. The point is that you don't know what you want. You vacillate between trust and mistrust, and between low and high self-esteem. You probably have a couple of good friends who support you and believe in you, but you tend not to let things get too heavy. You like to sit on fences.
Fictional character with whom you might identify: Xander (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Amelie (Amelie)
| Other Attachment Types: | |||||
| Secure: | The Unicorn | | | The Cuddleslut | | | The Free Agent |
| Preoccupied: | The Cling Wrap | | | The Squid | | | The Insect |
| Fearful: | The Doormat | | | The Leper | | | The Exile |
| Dismissing: | The Hermit | | | The Stone | | | The Player |
| Confused: | The Waffler |
"In fact my belief is your writing in most of what you sent to me is at the same level as was your writing on Bentham and Dickens. In my opinion the mode of expression you naturally seem to gravitate to
is-- simply-- the very best "classic" scholarly style-- not the "quick run through just to publish" junk so common today, but the "when you're on your game, you will produce things that will last a LONG time" beautiful style not many people can do!"
That's all the encouragement I need. Dr. Dube's standards for quality are high, so I'm going to believe in what he says here regarding my potential as a writer. I don't care if it takes me through hell and back (and it already has), I'm publishing before I die.
