Archive for April, 2012
I have had, deep inside me …
No, my sweet pervs, not *that*
Although, I can’t tell you how much I fancy a deep and abiding thrust of steadfast, unintentional lust within the expanse of me. Inside my body, my being, falling forward toward remote places within me. Long. Fast. Hard. Soft. Slow. Stirring.
No, instead …. I have had, deep inside me, a misery that I could not define. One that I understood, even as I moved through it, was purposeless, feckless, meaningless. It served only to hinder myself and all that I touch.
I understand now that it is not valuable to be attached to emotions that result from situations beyond my control, the outcomes of which often have nothing at all to do with me but are simply behaviors of the other people involved. How arrogant of me it is to think “they did this to me.” How self-serving it is for me to attach a meaning beyond the fact that what happened … just happened.
That is all.
But we do that, don’t we? Take a scenario and make it ours to relate to. We construct a story from it and turn that narrative into a barrier – a barrier to possibility and empowerment within our relationships – and we use the thoughts and feelings that arise from that story to keep ourselves locked into another narrative – “I am right, you are wrong,” and that blame sits in the way of being really focused on what matters and gets in the way of our productivity. Our possibility.
Fuck, I did that. I made it all about me. Yep… I spent the last couple of weeks since the last post I wrote literally paralyzed by, “You did this to me, you motherfuckers.” But there is no power in that, is there? There is only anger and hurt and victim-hood. Sitting inside of that space was, I get now, a waste of my precious time. But knowing where we have let ourselves be derailed is often the key to letting things be what they are, yes? So that then we can get back on track.
I’ve got too much to do in this world to let such a state propel me into the tailspin of inaction. And so today I move forward. I will look closely at every piece of my life that I am not satisfied with and take responsibility for my part in creating it. And I will gain wisdom in letting things be what they are.
In all their infinite complexities.
And perhaps soon there will be a story to tell about me having something less abstract and more concrete (or silcone, or glass or ceramic… or better yet, FLESH!) … inside of me.
I am confronting the concept of boundaries lately and am learning that sometimes I have to draw them out with thick, deliberate strokes. Run my pencil back and forth along the plane -point to point- so that the lines I am asking not to be crossed become the crude illustration of a child.
Sometimes underlining something over and over again is the only way to get my point across.
My boundaries have been crossed time and time again over the last few years. Frankly, it’s part of why I decided my marriage should end, why the hurt had become so very indelible… absolutely impossible to erase. Because when you give the space for something to exist, ample space even, more than enough, really… and the person you’ve given that space to casts an even wider net, arching menacingly over the lines of the agreement and into territory that would have been much better left alone, which is of course why the territory was marked, inexplicably, with the letters KO for Keep Off in the first place… when you give that space and that space gets filled up and even more space is taken?
It pisses you off.
It pisses me off anyway.
And you would think I’d have learned by now. Learned how to set the proper boundaries so that I can keep manipulative, toxic people off of my front porch and the resulting anger such situations guarantee at bay. I haven’t figured it out, apparently. Because it’s still happening.
Perhaps this situation (my apologies for being so esoteric about the details, but this is not an I-got-fucked-over-and-wanna-tell-you-about-it sitch) … perhaps this situation is the teacher I needed to slap me on the hand with a wooden ruler, a merciless reminder to pay attention to red flags. I mean, I know better than to ignore the scarlet harbingers of doom. Especially when I watch them waving, ironically, cloyingly… inside my own home.
Yes. I will remember from now on. Set my boundaries in solid graphite and keep a watchful eye out for the red.
Reminders received and duly noted.