Tag Archive: relationships


Vision

Sparkle and Shine

Only one more week before the holiday season is over.  I tried hard to not be a scrooge this year.  Thought I was on easy street since Thanksgiving was such a win (spent with dear sister friends, her man and his adorable pitbull).  Hell, I even managed to muster enough holiday spirit to have a full smile picture taken in front of a Christmas tree (see proof above).  Admittedly, the smiles may have been more about the spiced pear martinis and the loveliness on the other side of the camera but I won’t quibble.  I did a little holiday cheer this year.

And then, Friday hit.

Leave it to these family-focused holidays to kick the legs out from under the sense of peace and acceptance I had cultivated around my predominantly-solitary life.  I have friends.  Wonderful friends who make up my family of affinity and over the past two years have shown me so much caring and generosity that it staggers me at times.  I have a family of origin that I appreciate more and more as I heal from past hurts and dumb shit I just have not been able to let go.  And I get to see the family progeny grow and expand in beautiful and magical ways.  I have a lucky and blessed life.

Recent ruminations have left me appreciative that I can turn my loft bedroom into a lounge, complete with a small but growing collection of absinthes from the US and Europe.  I can crochet for hours at a time with no one to complain that I am ignoring or neglecting them.  (The cat does but she’s easily soothed by cat treats and a cuddle).  I’m making music again with no one to interrupt the creative flow by coming into the room or asking a question.  I come and go as I please.  The level of independence is a wonderful thing.  That is until the holidays and the lack of obligation to others becomes this gaping chasm of alone.

I had a lovely Christmas of Misfit Toys spent with dear friend and her housemates.  Great food and music.  Card games completely with shit talking and a spontaneous group dancing session when the Peanuts theme song came on Pandora.  (That moment is one of the highlight of the season.) But I returned home to this same place of UGH.

I felt much the same way last year.  Stuck in this place of anxiety and discomfort that is hard to get a grasp on.  It’s uneasy feeling like something is desperately wrong somewhere but impossible to place exactly what is amiss or where. It’s  just fuckery and confusion. Last year, things came to a head in a challenging relationship so I had something on which to pin the thorny tail. of the feeling.  This year, however, it’s just me, examining my life and wondering if I am going to go through this again next year (and the year after next).  And there is the truth of that.  In all of these years and similar situations and feelings there is one constant:: Me.

It’s time to stop peeking at this through my peripheral vision.  The mask has been removed.  There is only me.  Do I like what I see?  Do I even know what I am looking at?

Clarity of vision is an awesomely powerful and scary thing.  The only thing that can quell that fear is practice.

So off I go to bend, breathe, weave and sing.

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Masked

Masks.

Avoidance.

I keep starting this blog and then changing directions. I’ve been putting off writing for a week. Something is lurking there right below the surface. Some ghost wants to manifest and some part of me is keeping it back. Escapism. Crochet. Reading. Organizing my yarn stash. Anything to keep me from sitting here and just letting the words and feelings flow. I felt so damned tender last week that I feared I would fall to pieces if pulled that little thread that wanted to express. I honestly do not remember what I did last weekend although one evening was spent with Johnny Walker. Mostly, I just tried to tiptoe around my tender bits.

Monday came and I put on the Brave and Competent Mask to get through the workweek. Interesting thing masks, sometimes they can be used to hide our true selves. And other times, they allow us to channel energies that we might not otherwise be able to muster. For much of the week I actually felt pretty good, buoyed on a few flirtations that helped beat back the part of me that was feeling undesirable.

I did not think it would hurt this much. I keep trying to source the pain so I can figure out what balm it needs. Maybe it just needs the healing of being brought out into the light.

Despite my pledge to be honest in these writings – I am still edging around speaking full truths. A part of me seems to want to hold them. As if they are precious or some source of power. Or, maybe more to the truth, they’ve become alibis for my not being able to be fully present in my healing. Perhaps if I offer them up here, bit-by-bit, I’ll be able to let them go.

I try very hard in relationships to be present and considerate, loving and accommodating – often to the point of squashing my own feelings or needs. When things are tense or off kilter, I stop and check myself first. Always mindful that it could just be my shit that is blurring the lens. This is one of the things I really like about myself but at the same time I detest it. I don’t want to be a person who just goes off on every little thing…or even every big thing. But I do wish that I could stop letting people take up so much fucking space in my heart/head. In the past, I have done serious damage by not being able to control some of my more volatile emotions so I think I overcompensate now by just sublimating the anger. Eating it. Trying to be reasonable. Measured. In my last relationship, in particular, I often shelved my annoyance, anger, disappointment and concerns because my lover had so many big emotions and intensity going on that there just did not seem to be any room for my shit. And granted, much of my shit seemed very small in comparison but it was still my shit and a big deal to me. But I have a hard time admitting need and although I have gotten better at asking for what I need, I often did not. I presented myself as strong and independent when all I really wanted was an unbidden hug or kiss on the forehead and to be told all would be well. More than anything I just wanted to be held. To have the comfort of shared heartbeats and heat. To have the space to fall apart and know that someone would be there with crazy glue and a cold beer when I came back to my senses.

Strong and Independent Mask gets major workouts in my relationships and the rest of my life, honesty. Often Vulnerability Mask gets lost amidst the bravado and show of the superhero. And sometimes, when she does manage to manifest, she is unrecognized or worse, ignored. Or called selfish or lacking in compassion or empathy.

I guess I should meditate on vulnerability. Perhaps crochet her a hat so beautiful and intriguing that when I next wear that mask, it will be impossible to be ignored or mistaken for something else.

Or perhaps I just need to recognize once and for all that I can be my whole self and present in my connections with others. And that those who love me, will continue to do so even if I am sometimes sloppy with my shit.

Maybe I just need to put these damned masks away

and be my whole self.

But dear lord, who the hell is that??!

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