Tide

"A doctor once told me I feel too much. I said, so does god. That's why you can see the grand canyon from the moon." - Andrea Gibson

I feel too much. My body is constantly a roil of emotions. I experience nothing that is not experienced viscerally first. Intellect is second. I am slowly, slowly, slowly, painfully learning how to think first and feel later, but sometimes the yearning is too strong. Sometimes the anger is much too great. Sometimes I feel everything as a serrated knife to my bones; an ache and a grinding much too deep to ever ignore.

I will never care about the grammar in these blogs, never care about the proper punctuation, because e.e. cummings had it right. Emotion first, rules later and maybe never.

Here I am spilling. Who follows the rules when they pour forth all that they are?

I'm stymied by the contradictions. I see what you are damming up. I see the concrete springing leaks.
"...Sometimes I wish that the tide would take me..."

Chris Pureka - Shipwreck

For you

I don't really know why, but I want you to see me. I want to share all of me with you.

I wanted you there today, experiencing the beauty I was experiencing as I walked around the church garden. I wanted you to experience the vivid gladiolus with the sun making them glow. I wanted you to see the genius in Andrea Gibson's work, to feel the heartbreak the way I feel it when I hear her perform.

I want you to be moved. I want beauty for you.

More than anything I want to connect with you. I want to know what lights your fire. Maybe what makes you burn isn't at all close to what makes me burn. That's ok. Maybe I want to see your joy because you have a seemingly endless supply of composure. I just want an opportunity to see the real you. I don't want to see your restraint. I don't want to see that pain in your eyes, that downturn in your lips. I want to see the pure happiness and love in you that each and every soul is capable of showing forth. Forget "showing," I want to see it explode out of you.

I do not want to be the stumbling block on your journey. I do not want to be the source of the pain in your eyes.

What I am asking for is innocent. You know the day, the time, the place. All I am asking is that you come, still your mind, and find peace. No tricks. Just mutual peace.

Humble

My mindset during yoga translates to daily life.
Today I learned experience in one pose by no means translates to ability in another. Today I learned to be mindful of each and every muscular movement my body makes, as the slightest adjustment could potentially prove painful. Today I learned that letting my mind wander sometimes leads to the letting go of tension I have been so desperately seeking.

Through today's yoga I was reminded to be humble, mindful (both in action and thought), and less vigilant.

What will tomorrow's yoga bring?

Grounded

So much of my life revolves around my injured back. I began regularly incorporating several therapeutic yoga poses into my daily schedule, as well as a short meditation. The stretching took a ridiculous amount of pressure of off my back and I couldn't be happier to have avoided pain medication. When the pain starts to fade though, so too does the yoga and mediation practice. I have skipped practice more often than not this week, but getting back into it today is a step in the right direction.

Tomorrow I attend church for the first time in years. The church is unitarian, and very welcoming from what I have heard. I feel the need for some self-exploration. I feel the need connect to some higher power. I have had so much trouble with the traditional notions of God and Jesus, but I have so much respect for those who follow "the word" and love all equally. My trouble with God and Jesus stems from human hate. I know this new church does not preach hate, and I am looking forward to it a great deal.

I feel as if I am entering a new stage in my life; a more grounded stage, perhaps. I feel that the meditation and church service are connected. I feel better than I have in such a long time.

Conflict

I have had many misgivings about my decision to leave my current job. I got a clear signal though. I hurt my back again, doing something unavoidable in my current job. The pain is a healthy reminder to take it easy and take care of myself first. The next few days at work are likely to be stressful, painful, and all around difficult. Just more incentive to get working.

I feel like I am letting everyone down. I promised, by signing that contract, to be with the company for the next two years. I am only six months in and I am already backing out. I feel judged for it, probably rightly so. My friend's brother told me, "I'm too pure of heart too. You always want to make sure other people have what they need, but you need to make sure you are taking care of yourself first." I needed to hear that. It goes against my most basic instincts, but he is right.

Raw

Once more through another revolution, another rebellion. This time it will be my job. I have always made decisions suddenly and this one is no different. I am afraid of being without employment, but am excited for the next big thing. Here's to hoping.

One moment every day stops my heart. The waking moment, the moment between dreams and reality, the moment I think of you. I am happy now. I'm in a good place, but still you haunt me. I wake to thoughts of you, I wake to the ache of the pain I caused, I wake to regret. I wake to missing you. I want to ask, "Are you sure?" I almost text you the last time I was drunk. I almost asked, "Are you happy?" Just asking you that could cause pain, and so I didn't text. I'm only sad when I wake. I hope you are well. I wish for our mutual happiness.

Survivor's guilt

I am learning to accept that I will not forget her. I use to hate the memories that continually arise out of seeming nothing; sometime I still hate them. More and more I am finding that each memory is a reminder of how great life is now. Each memory is a reminder of the hate, the agony, the hurt, and then proof that I never need to experience life that way again.

The anniversary of the tornado was rough. I am in the grips of survivor's guilt selfishly experienced despite not actually "surviving" anything. I did survive though, when so many died, when so many lost loved ones. I loved her still all the while she was in that basement, our puppy clutched tight between her knees, the wind reeking havoc above her. She was terrified. She was always fearful of even the most innocuous storms; terrified of the hail, of the green clouds. I feel guilt because I should have been there too.  Had I been there, I may have been in any one of the houses cruelly demolished, could have been one of those lives cruelly demolished, all because the nature of my job.  Had I been in the basement with her, with puppy, I would have survived with her. She claims the experience changed her for the better. She claims seeing the dead taught her to value her life. She was two blocks away from being one of the dead. Her experience makes me value life too.

The woman I knew always valued money and objects, always valued pretty. Appearances were everything. I do not know her after her survival. I hope she morphed into someone wholly different. I hope she treats her fiancée well. I hope she does value the life she has, and does something beautiful with it.

I know real love now. I know real love because I left, because I never experienced that tornado, because I stood up for myself. Leaving hurt, but I am alive today because I left. I hope to do something beautiful.