Simplicity

In recent weeks I have come to find that many people forget to enjoy the simplicity of life without children. And without a partner. And choose to focus on what they don't have, rather than what they do. When really, it's all just a crapshoot anyway: Married, single, kids, no kids - everyone seems to want what they don't have.

It seems to me that we're all so hardwired to not be alone because that's all we have known (to be with others), that humans don't bother to appreciate the moments they're in while in them.  The perfect, simple, clear raindrops of a time when all we have to do is worry about ourselves and hope that one day, the other things we want - the things in life far more complicated - will fall into place. And even so, in these clear moments of learning about only ourselves, it doesn't make us alone. In fact, if anything, it teaches us how to be self-sustaining without any guarantees. Because nothing is a guarantee. I once lacked the knowledge that I can leave this phase of my life confident that I can stand up for myself, by myself; that I never have to sit in another broken situation because I'm scared to be alone. (Because the loneliest place in the world is trapped in a broken partnership.)

Rushing the process of finding oneself and seeking spouse/kids is habit and understanding of which now alludes me. Paying for one. Eating for one. Working for one. Sustaining for one. Planning for one. In which the world becomes putty in the palm of your hand and the mistakes you make are only yours to have and hold and affect just one. 

Too often kids are in a rush to be adults. And adults are in a rush to have kids. For some people, the rush suits them and the fit is obvious. But far more often, people seem to force the suit. And with so much art and science and divorce and love and hate, it bewilders me why so many people feel compelled complicate their lives - even when the pieces don't fit. The pieces of every puzzle will fall into line with the others when you figure out what goes where - so why anyone chooses to focus on where that one piece goes without having the rest in place, I can't quite comprehend. Maybe it's because I've been there and I realize how broken it can be - and a life less simple is quite complicated indeed.

I've listened to the cries of late: Why are so many people coupled up when others are by themselves, they wonder: Why is that 800lb lady engaged and I'm not?! And I find myself just thinking that the simplicity of the single life is far too often under-appreciated; they're not looking at what they have - and have fostered for themselves - but, rather, what they don't have. Love is all around you, my friends: Your true family and the one you have cultivated in friendships. Look up for a minute from the sorrow that fills your eyes and the worry that plagues your mind and see that love surrounds you and enjoy the simplicity of it. One day you'll wish you were, again, where you are at today.

The simplicity of life alone is a beautiful thing. I wish you could see it too. Everything is just about you. (And it's suppose to be; that's the beauty of it.) So what's the rush? 


(Cause It's pretty fuckin' sweet when you think about it.)

Dreams 052112

I have been having lots and lots of dreams the past few nights. Monday morning I awoke knowing I had had a slew of dreams but being only able to remember part of one. In it, I was in my house. A guy I know, mostly only via facebook - and tried for a long time to no avail, to ask me out - was in it. He was trying to get me to ask him to say longer/over and I had to ask him to leave. Shortly after he left, I went to bed. After only a few minutes into slumber, someone comes into my room and lays beside me. It's Brett Dennen. He had a key and in my dream I knew him; we'd be together before. (Only oddly, in real life he is neither 1. Attractive or 2. Straight, so far as I know.) He laid down and I turned over and cuddled up next to him. I realized that he was lying in my bed with his shoes on in sheets I had just changed (and I really just had last week). I angerly got out of bed and made him move his shoes off the bed - he was wearing a dock sider, of sorts, light cream with two loose strings and one tie at the top (no other string around the shoe, per most normal dock siders). As I am cleaning the bed and venting my frustrating about the mud and WHO DOES THAT, he apparently had taken the time to get up and leave, by which I was perplexed. At that point though, I think I was just mad enough at the inconsiderate nature of wearing one's muddy shoes into another person's bed not to care much.

Last night I had another round of many dream. Vivid dreams. In the first one I recall slightly, it was an apocolypic-type world. Dark and dank and running away and being chased. It was me, another girl and a guy - of which none I can decifer or recall. We were running through dark, thick forest attempting to escape those chasing us - zombie orc type energies in the dream. The forrest was a deep blue, green, black pallette and we came to a delapidated cabin near a creek. We decided to stop and rest in it; to hide. We thought we were far enough in the woods to not be found. Soon after, the creatures were near. The girl and I hid in a corner of the cabin, though still exposed to the outside. Closer, they were getting and closer. We huddled together, the guy to the right of us - we're facing from where we just ran, hidden behind the dark shadows of the cabin covered moon. He finds us, the creature finds us - his face moving towards mine. I shake myself awake terrified. I calm down and return back to sleep.

Later in the night/early morning, I had another round of dreams. I can only remember one part of a two part dream and I woke up wondering who, in real life had shared that information with me. It took me going back to sleep and waking up again to realize that learning that the guy I had dated last and his new girl were accidentally pregnant, wasn't true. However convinced I was in my dream, so far as I know, it's not (yet) so; if comes true, I'm going to start charging for the third eye of my dreams. I don't usually dream about real people - nor so convincingly. Interesting.

My Mother

"It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are" - E. E. Cummings

Because she encouraged me to be me, my mother is my hero.

Most people are unwilling or too prideful to admit they've my mistakes. My mother is my hero because she carries each one like a badge of honor. I am stronger because of her. I understand what strength means because of her. It isn't brute force or muscles or mass or the number of diamonds or size of your house: It is your lessons and everything you are willing to share. It is how to learn to stand up for yourself. Strength is that determination to be happy though all of the unhappy and unfortunate situations life throws at you. The determination to find yourself; to be happy alone and then invite someone else to be strong with you. And to ride the ups and downs of life together. To do everything you have to do to try to be happy - even when you're not anywhere near there; even when it seems impossible. That life isn't easy - and it's not suppose to be; that we're not perfect - and we're not supposed to be.

My mother is my hero because she makes me realize that everything works out in the end. Things break and get fixed. You break and from that grow. You become better and wiser and stronger every time. Even when everything seems broken and hopeless, you will always find your way back out - somehow she always made it work. And did everything she could so maybe we didn't notice it was broken in the first place: A magician of life. My mother is my hero because she told me to wait till twenty-eight - she told me to wait to find myself - because that's when she realized the strength within herself. She is one-half the reason I am not unhappily married or betrothed at twenty-eight. She is my hero because instead of admitting defeat, she wanted us to learn from her mistakes, but left us open and without judgement to make our own. She pushed us so far from her - encouraged us to move - so our lives would never be provincial - even though she knew she'd miss us. She is my hero for being so selfless - for letting us go, and encouraging us to find every adventure in life and ride it through without her, all while reminding she will always be there. Always. No matter what.

My mother is my hero because she has become my friend - despite the growing pains of adolescence and distance. And I love that every time we talk, I feel closer to her. That she has become more than my mother - and who knew there was any greater honor? And that every time we talk, I learn a little more about her. My mother is my hero because she taught me the meaning of strength and self-worth and I'll be damned if not the value of a dollar too.

...now if only she hadn't given me her butt, I might think the sun shines out of hers. <3

Betty White Gets It

Found this gif via http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com. Minus the pot and law school references, this Tumblr is my life in gifs. I love it. It's perfect. I want to be best friends with this girl because, even as strangers, we understand one another. Single-world is infinitely more amusing than the life I thought I wanted at 16. Sixteen Me didn't know anything - including that vodka could be kind of a hobby. Ms. White is wise.

Life is (Randomly) Beautiful

In case you forgot.


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via dooce

Change

My anxiety is spiking lately. On the bright side, it halts my hunger so I stop eating the frosting off of strawberry Mini-Wheats for a while. There are some things going right: For instance, my weight is back down to pre-Nuvaring standards (in fact, 2lbs under that ::celebratory dance::). I am under my "content weight" and 2.5 lbs from my "happy weight". This is huge for me. And it took me this long to realize how body conscious I am and how much that can and does play into relationship-type situations.

Back in October, I finally had triumphed over the PE situation. I had control again, but promised myself I wouldn't date anyone until I had my body back again. I had just discovered my 10 to 15 pound weight gain (over the course of 5 months, despite working out) was caused by going off of Nuvaring and nothing else - after a barrage of tests, bloodwork and stress. It was time to get my body back and until I did, I had no interest in dating.

I should have stuck to that; being so body-conscious really made me doubt myself and my confidence was nearly lost there for a while. It really affected how I interacted at that time; despite the confidence I had upon initial meetings because HELL! What do I care?! I'm not focusing on any of that shit till I drop this weight. And then I got wrapped up in something 'body-conscious chubby me' wasn't ready for and then sat in a basket of socks in mid-December depressed my clothes didn't fit. THIS ISN'T WHAT I LOOK LIKE, I wanted to scream at him. (And maybe I did, in more of a whisper.) THIS ISN'T ME! I'M SO MUCH HAPPIER THAN ALL THIS.  Dragging someone else into your leftover shit? Not cute: But we were both guilty of it. And as we whirl-winded around - as he was distracting himself from his own past shit - I didn't have time to go to the gym; time to focus on me and get my body back to THIS IS WHAT I LOOK LIKE.

Status restored. Ahh. 

So this part is good. And so is the part where I'm happy alone again. Il bel far niente. 

Well, mostly happy, anyway: There's still a bit for a wheel-churning cherub back there; I don't know why. I have now likened it to 1. An ugly mole on your body you wish wasn't there, but it's just something you need to learn to live with and 2. Having lived through a premonition (that hasn't happened yet). And this isn't something I've experienced before; even a decade ago, after 2.5, and it was something I had wanted. So it's something I need to learn to live with because, what else can I do? So that's not great, but other than the cherub, I feel pretty happy again. 100% back to where I was? No. Soon, I hope. But I have until October. I have made a new pact with myself: Casual until Saturn's end. No serious suitors. (Ya, I said suitors.) This one I will keep (since the 365 day celibacy pact last year only lasted 362 and then promptly blew up in my face).

Regret. Oops. New pact.

Also on the level of anxiety inducing, is my work environment, which tends to be in a state of flux, at the moment. I have had the feeling for a while (obviously) that I would be changing courses in my career. I could/can feel this year is all about change. Big change. Changes. And one is upon me; I can feel it. (Much like how I can "feel" the cherub.) I have made changes in strides in my career the last few months, but recent news at work has inched my plans forward faster than I anticipated. I still have a choice, but I feel as though my life - love and money and career and happiness - is unchanging until I make this next stride. "Where do you see yourself in five years?" is a question I need to consider -- in general -- though I'm not quite sure what it all means. I'm moving forward, slowly, quietly; because I feel as though it is time: That this is a cloaked opportunity; that it was presented to me and I have to follow it - on my timeline. Now I just need to see where it goes; whatever that means - and honestly I don't know. But a quiet search will reveal the answers; this, I am sure of.

I tap the keys in a state of anxiety. A state of flux. A state of long-awaited and pandered decision. A state of disturbed happy. A state of hopeful and weary excitement. A state of change. A change, I feel, that will allow everything else to fall into place. Whatever that means. Where ever that takes me.