I'm trying something new with Michael. I am being totally honest and upfront about what I want from him, from us. I am speaking my truth, and I think it's confusing to him, as clear and direct as I'm trying to be. But it's happening. Again, I am doing my part. And again, I feel like I am standing here, begging and pleading for him to meet me here, and yet, I stand alone.
I've done so much work surrounding expectations for people, and recognizing their abilities and that where they are and what they are able to do will not always (in fact, rarely) align with my expectations. And that's okay. It's important to honor where each person is on their journey, and where they can and want to go. But I want so badly for us to be happy and healthy individuals, and friends. I've known for a long time that it wasn't in the cards for us at this point, and yet, here I am again, ready and willing, and pushing...?
Am I pushing this? Or am I just letting him know that I am ready, again? I'm not really sure. I guess I should spend some more time investigating that. Maybe I should take a step back. But on the other hand, I'm so tired of hiding from myself, being scared of the repercussions, being scared of how he will react. I just want us to truly, wholly, be okay. I believe with all my heart that it's possible, in its own time. I need to trust the timing of it. I've been patient, and I will keep being patient.
There has to be a time for us, a space for us. Not romantically. Is that clear? Platonically. I don't know why I need him as a friend, a companion, a confidant. Maybe because of what we went through? It was the same thing, but we did it so separately. I want to share my experience with him, and I want so earnestly to hear his. To compare? Contrast? Draw parallels? I feel like it's just setting me up for more heartache when I don't hear what I want to hear.
I guess that why it's not happening now though. To sort out those expectations, those desires of mine...whatever they are. Then that space for us will be safer, I think. Sometimes it feels like the past five years have never happened. Like I am still standing in the exact same place, just waiting for him.
Okay, that last sentence was a little melodramatic.
11 July 2014
10 July 2014
fates // erik mongrain
Today was really productive, in the a lot of little tasks getting crossed off the list kind of way, even when the list didn't really need to be there anyway. But I did all the things I set out to do: I ran some errands, dusted the bedroom and the front room, straightened up, emptied the trash, deep cleaned the dishwasher, did SO MANY dishes, finished up the laundry, finished a book, read some of Miracles Now, meditated, worked out, went grocery shopping, cooked and ate a healthy dinner, spent time with Drew. The only thing that got pushed back until tomorrow was cleaning the bathroom. Again. It'll get done eventually.
It seems like I did a lot for not getting out of bed until 2 o'clock this afternoon. This summer, it just feels like I could sleep forever. I've been sleeping 10-12 hours every night, and typically taking naps (yes, sometimes plural) throughout the day. It just seems like I can't get enough sleep, even though I wake up incredibly well rested. I guess when there's nothing really pulling you out of bed, there's no reason to get up. I always have been a bed lover.
But now it's half past 2 am and I am dwindling down. Freshly showered and still drying off, I am reaching for a topic here. A neat little bow to wrap this entry up in. I guess sometimes that just doesn't happen. I still love re-reading my posts and seeing how they end. It's hardly ever the way I intended it when I began.
That's what I love most about this space, I think. The latitude it gives me to just write, and write, and write some more, until the words are spilling out of me without a second thought. And to see where it leads me, what lessons I learn, what wisdom there is to gain from my subconscious thoughts, or just from seeing my conscious spilled out across the page.
No judgment, no lies, just love and freedom of expression.
(Who is Erik Mongrain, by the way? This album just popped up on my Spotify account and I am loving it.)
It seems like I did a lot for not getting out of bed until 2 o'clock this afternoon. This summer, it just feels like I could sleep forever. I've been sleeping 10-12 hours every night, and typically taking naps (yes, sometimes plural) throughout the day. It just seems like I can't get enough sleep, even though I wake up incredibly well rested. I guess when there's nothing really pulling you out of bed, there's no reason to get up. I always have been a bed lover.
But now it's half past 2 am and I am dwindling down. Freshly showered and still drying off, I am reaching for a topic here. A neat little bow to wrap this entry up in. I guess sometimes that just doesn't happen. I still love re-reading my posts and seeing how they end. It's hardly ever the way I intended it when I began.
That's what I love most about this space, I think. The latitude it gives me to just write, and write, and write some more, until the words are spilling out of me without a second thought. And to see where it leads me, what lessons I learn, what wisdom there is to gain from my subconscious thoughts, or just from seeing my conscious spilled out across the page.
No judgment, no lies, just love and freedom of expression.
(Who is Erik Mongrain, by the way? This album just popped up on my Spotify account and I am loving it.)
08 July 2014
gold trees gold // colt silvers
It's been a while. Again. I don't know how time manages to pass so quickly. Oh well, just trying to let that go. My 26th birthday is in about 30 days. School starts again in about 50 days, 7ish weeks. I can't wait to be busy again. Not have to worry about trying to fill my days with productivity, or feel guilty about doing nothing all day. It will be so nice.
But before then, I have some better habits to create. Things to work on. Daily meditation. Daily writing. More frequent workouts. Healthier eating. I feel like these things are all combined together for me. When I do one, it urges me to do another, and another, and then, before I know it, I'm making ALL THE HEALTHY CHOICES. And I feel great. I'll continue on for a few days, and then it all falls apart.
And I feel like shit.
I'll whine and complain and, even when I know what the solution is, I won't do it. I'll stay on the couch, binge watching episodes of House, and eating every 15 minutes. Why, as humans, do we do this? I know I'm not alone. Drew and I talked about it last night, because I'm so tired, so tired, of complaining and not making any lasting changes. I know that all this is driven by fear, a fear of staying the same. On the other side of the coin, there is a fierce love behind it, a love for myself, for wanting something better for me, for my partner, for my community.
Maybe that's it. We are driven by fear, instead of by love. Love is always greater than, will always beat out fear. Fear will fail. Fear will transform into other forms of fear. Love is pure, and true, and unconditional. It will stay by your side, help you up when you fall, and guide you back to your path.
But before then, I have some better habits to create. Things to work on. Daily meditation. Daily writing. More frequent workouts. Healthier eating. I feel like these things are all combined together for me. When I do one, it urges me to do another, and another, and then, before I know it, I'm making ALL THE HEALTHY CHOICES. And I feel great. I'll continue on for a few days, and then it all falls apart.
And I feel like shit.
I'll whine and complain and, even when I know what the solution is, I won't do it. I'll stay on the couch, binge watching episodes of House, and eating every 15 minutes. Why, as humans, do we do this? I know I'm not alone. Drew and I talked about it last night, because I'm so tired, so tired, of complaining and not making any lasting changes. I know that all this is driven by fear, a fear of staying the same. On the other side of the coin, there is a fierce love behind it, a love for myself, for wanting something better for me, for my partner, for my community.
Maybe that's it. We are driven by fear, instead of by love. Love is always greater than, will always beat out fear. Fear will fail. Fear will transform into other forms of fear. Love is pure, and true, and unconditional. It will stay by your side, help you up when you fall, and guide you back to your path.
18 June 2014
old world romance // sea wolf
This was my last day in Anacortes. It's been an amazing, idyllic pacific northwest vacation/adventure/relaxation retreat. Watching the sunset over the Puget Sound every night has been my favorite part. It's also been amazing to have down time, but still have plenty to do if I wanted to. And the weather, oh, the weather. Highs in the 60s, lows in the 50s. Cloudy, rainy mornings giving way to clear, sunshine-filled afternoons. Enough sun to lay out on a lounge chair on the rocky beach with a good book. My hopeful tan is a little pink right now, but it'll fade by tomorrow.
I'm going to miss these views...this quiet, friendly, transient little island...the luxuries afforded to us by this incredible house we are staying at...the weather, of course...the endless shades of greenery brought by the endless rain...the immediate feeling of comfort and home in a place I haven't ever been.
And yet, I am so excited to be home. In the comfort of my own home. With my sheets and pillows and couches and greenery and my partner. I miss him. It's nice to miss each other, we always say. And that's true. We enjoy being independent and participating in separate activities but I'm ready to see his beautiful face and feel his strong arms holding me tight and hear his steady breathing as he sleeps and taste the saltiness of his sweat when I kiss his neck and smell the scent of being home.
Home is wherever I'm with you.
I'm going to miss these views...this quiet, friendly, transient little island...the luxuries afforded to us by this incredible house we are staying at...the weather, of course...the endless shades of greenery brought by the endless rain...the immediate feeling of comfort and home in a place I haven't ever been.
And yet, I am so excited to be home. In the comfort of my own home. With my sheets and pillows and couches and greenery and my partner. I miss him. It's nice to miss each other, we always say. And that's true. We enjoy being independent and participating in separate activities but I'm ready to see his beautiful face and feel his strong arms holding me tight and hear his steady breathing as he sleeps and taste the saltiness of his sweat when I kiss his neck and smell the scent of being home.
Home is wherever I'm with you.
17 June 2014
les bains douches // joy division
The rain is coming down. Pounding on the roof. Windows are open and the soft ocean breeze is wafting in. My heart is full from a day full of exploring nature, new places, not wanting for anything, wonderful experiences with friendly people, and delicious food. My stomach is full, fuller than it's been in a while. So full it hurts. Some ginger tea would sure be nice.
I am sitting in my bed, reflecting on the past few days and feeling the magnitude of how fortunate I am. For my good health, my loving family and friends, and for the financial ability to make vacations like this a reality. For feeling so guided and supported. For the investment I've been making in my mental and spiritual health. For the words that pour out of me, words that I've read and reaffirmed over and over again, words that used to seem so foreign are now freely flowing out of my mouth, in an attempt to share this light.
Being articulate has never been my thing. I stumble over my words, and my mouth moves more quickly than I can form coherent thoughts. I'm goofy and awkward and soft spoken, I think these are a direct result of being the youngest child and the only girl in my family. Often ignored or left out of conversations, either intentionally or not, it was of notice to me. And those lessons I learned early on from those incidents still affect me, even though I am becoming more sure of myself, and at the same time, accepting my place in my family without resentment.
Just the other day, my brother, his wife, and my mom and dad were all having a conversation about gun control. I was sitting in the back row of this massive SUV and having a hard time following the conversation (I have bad hearing). My brother made the comment that (in his opinion) while it's totally fine to own guns for self-defense and/or hunting, no one needs to own an arsenal of 200 firearms. Militia-forming and Second Amendment what-have-you. So I asked "So what's the limit?" "Well there is no limit." "I know there's no limit now, but you're saying 200 is too many, so what do you think the limit is?"
My question, which seemed true to the progression of the conversation, was met with dead silence. On everyone's part. No one said anything for a good 10 count. When someone spoke again, it was like my question was never asked, and the conversation just flowed on. A few years ago, I would have been angry and hurt, to the point where I would not enjoy the rest of the day (which happened to be the last day my brother and sister-in-law were there). But, instead, I acknowledged my hurt feelings, let them flow through me, told my ego to give it a rest, and just stared happily out the window for the rest of the trip home, as my family kept on having conversations without me.
Finding and accepting your place, with baby steps of change, full of confidence, love, and forgiveness. That's my jam.
I am sitting in my bed, reflecting on the past few days and feeling the magnitude of how fortunate I am. For my good health, my loving family and friends, and for the financial ability to make vacations like this a reality. For feeling so guided and supported. For the investment I've been making in my mental and spiritual health. For the words that pour out of me, words that I've read and reaffirmed over and over again, words that used to seem so foreign are now freely flowing out of my mouth, in an attempt to share this light.
Being articulate has never been my thing. I stumble over my words, and my mouth moves more quickly than I can form coherent thoughts. I'm goofy and awkward and soft spoken, I think these are a direct result of being the youngest child and the only girl in my family. Often ignored or left out of conversations, either intentionally or not, it was of notice to me. And those lessons I learned early on from those incidents still affect me, even though I am becoming more sure of myself, and at the same time, accepting my place in my family without resentment.
Just the other day, my brother, his wife, and my mom and dad were all having a conversation about gun control. I was sitting in the back row of this massive SUV and having a hard time following the conversation (I have bad hearing). My brother made the comment that (in his opinion) while it's totally fine to own guns for self-defense and/or hunting, no one needs to own an arsenal of 200 firearms. Militia-forming and Second Amendment what-have-you. So I asked "So what's the limit?" "Well there is no limit." "I know there's no limit now, but you're saying 200 is too many, so what do you think the limit is?"
My question, which seemed true to the progression of the conversation, was met with dead silence. On everyone's part. No one said anything for a good 10 count. When someone spoke again, it was like my question was never asked, and the conversation just flowed on. A few years ago, I would have been angry and hurt, to the point where I would not enjoy the rest of the day (which happened to be the last day my brother and sister-in-law were there). But, instead, I acknowledged my hurt feelings, let them flow through me, told my ego to give it a rest, and just stared happily out the window for the rest of the trip home, as my family kept on having conversations without me.
Finding and accepting your place, with baby steps of change, full of confidence, love, and forgiveness. That's my jam.
16 June 2014
bon iver // bon iver
Tonight, my parents and I had a tough conversation. It was wonderful to share ideas and talk about belief systems, but I know their hearts were breaking as I finally admitted something they wished wasn't true: I don't consider myself a Christian anymore (and haven't for a while). While it was painful for me to see their faces fall, I feel, for the first time in my life, that this spiritual path I am on is wholly and genuinely mine. I did the work to get here, and I am happy, and fulfilled, and will continue on this path. It doesn't have a label or a fancy place of worship, it's not black or white, it's messy and grey and evolving just as I evolve, and no, I don't know all the answers...but this, this is mine, it is me.
I know it's not easy for them. It's been a conversation we've been avoiding for a long time. But it happened organically tonight, and in the midst of another wonderful conversation about my and Drew's relationship, and our pursuit of marriage. We talked about values and raising kids and my childhood. I emphasized how much I loved the way I grew up, and tried to talk about the struggles I had (have?) as a young adult, but without being unnecessarily critical or hurtful. It is a fine line to walk. Open conversations such as these require great honesty and great courage. Sometimes that leads to hurt feelings over disagreements. And I think that's where we need great love, to forgive each other, accept our differences, and keep growing together.
I encouraged them to do the same for any kids Drew and I may have that they did for me. I want my kids to have those experiences, just as I want them to have access to other experiences. I want them to experience love, humility, kindness, patience, joy, peace, thankfulness, faithfulness, gentleness. My parents are shining, walking, living examples of these things, and the best teachers of the Christian faith I have ever had. But I also want my kids to know that they are loved, and supported, and free to express themselves fully.
Okay, this was more than ten minutes. I'll continue this at a later time. But I want to leave with this: I did a morning yoga + meditation session on a deck on the Puget Sound this morning (family vacation in Anacortes). The message in today's meditation was "I am free to express myself. I am supported. I am loved." I mean, could there have been a better message for me to meditate on to prepare me for all of these wonderfully hard conversations about who and where I am? Because our universe/guiding force/inner soul sister/God/what-have-you knows EXACTLY what is up, before we even have a clue, and that is an awesomely divine thing to experience.
I know it's not easy for them. It's been a conversation we've been avoiding for a long time. But it happened organically tonight, and in the midst of another wonderful conversation about my and Drew's relationship, and our pursuit of marriage. We talked about values and raising kids and my childhood. I emphasized how much I loved the way I grew up, and tried to talk about the struggles I had (have?) as a young adult, but without being unnecessarily critical or hurtful. It is a fine line to walk. Open conversations such as these require great honesty and great courage. Sometimes that leads to hurt feelings over disagreements. And I think that's where we need great love, to forgive each other, accept our differences, and keep growing together.
I encouraged them to do the same for any kids Drew and I may have that they did for me. I want my kids to have those experiences, just as I want them to have access to other experiences. I want them to experience love, humility, kindness, patience, joy, peace, thankfulness, faithfulness, gentleness. My parents are shining, walking, living examples of these things, and the best teachers of the Christian faith I have ever had. But I also want my kids to know that they are loved, and supported, and free to express themselves fully.
13 June 2014
false floors // rogue valley
Tonight, Austin was put on a tornado watch. So Drew and I headed out to the highest point in our neighborhood, sat on the curb, and watched the dark skies light up. It was a beautiful show, one that left us full of awe and wonder. Sure, there was danger, but we weren't far from home, and there was barely any wind. Tornadoes are windy, ergo, no wind = no danger.
There was a cat hanging out on the hood of a truck parked in a couple driveways down the road. We figured as long as the cat was hanging out, we'd be safe too. We kept looking over at the cat, and it seemed like the cat was checking us out too. We were saying "Don't look at us cat, we're looking at you!"
Finally, the rain really started coming down, and the lightning was decidedly closer. The cat took off, so we climbed into our car too. When we got home, our housemates were waiting for us and we promised to wake them up if the tornado got closer. They go to bed early, and we usually stay up past midnight, which is when the tornado warning would be over.
I now have this fierce desire to be a storm chaser. I'm convinced that people would love to watch us chase storms all over the world, on a motorcycle, and discovering delicious foods along the way! Seriously, I think that people would love that shit!
Anyway, it was wonderful to just sit outside with the love of my life, watching these amazing things happen around us, feeling so small and yet, so full of love and awe that I felt like an integral part of this universe, like all these things happening around me are simultaneously happening inside me and the connectivity of it all, the flow of the storm, of life...that's some real good stuff there.
There was a cat hanging out on the hood of a truck parked in a couple driveways down the road. We figured as long as the cat was hanging out, we'd be safe too. We kept looking over at the cat, and it seemed like the cat was checking us out too. We were saying "Don't look at us cat, we're looking at you!"
Finally, the rain really started coming down, and the lightning was decidedly closer. The cat took off, so we climbed into our car too. When we got home, our housemates were waiting for us and we promised to wake them up if the tornado got closer. They go to bed early, and we usually stay up past midnight, which is when the tornado warning would be over.
I now have this fierce desire to be a storm chaser. I'm convinced that people would love to watch us chase storms all over the world, on a motorcycle, and discovering delicious foods along the way! Seriously, I think that people would love that shit!
Anyway, it was wonderful to just sit outside with the love of my life, watching these amazing things happen around us, feeling so small and yet, so full of love and awe that I felt like an integral part of this universe, like all these things happening around me are simultaneously happening inside me and the connectivity of it all, the flow of the storm, of life...that's some real good stuff there.
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