HM: Relating

We all think we are pretty special and unique. Its OK to think this way, its what saves us from being taken advantage of, giving up and allows us to hold out for a better job/bill of health/relationship/whatever. Thinking we are special is common, even though few of us will admit it.

The thing is, thinking this isn’t always helpful –  like when you feel alone or sad or insecure. Feeling like you are the only one to have ever felt this way since the  beginning of time can be pretty scary. This is why I was so happy to re-discover Tales of Mere Existence (http://www.ingredientx.com) The artist’s art is simple, as are his thoughts. What makes it so unbelievably great is how bang-on he is with his story tellingand how it resonates so fully.

There are clips that are funny, clips that are depressing and everything in between, but this site gets my HM for the day because it is impossible to feel alone after watching them. I think he’s a genius.

Unsent

Hi,

I knew before I sat down that this was a bad idea. Hes Just not That Into You is in theatres right now. Oh the terrible cruel timing!

If you wanted to know how I was, you’d ask. You’d write or call or send a homing pigeon or something. You have done one of these things and so I must assume that you don’t much care, an assumption I made and have stuck with for quite some time now. The thing is, your not caring about how I am, (sadly) does not preclude my wanting to know how you are. A conundrum at best.

If I had you here, I would want to tell you the following things. I would want to tell you that I see you everywhere. You are that guy on the subway, you are 4 people ahead of me at the check out counter at the supermarket, you are on the opposite side of the street as my streetcar goes by, you are the guy over there on the bike. I would tell you that I miss you, whatever that could possibly mean given that you were never really a part of my life. I would tell you that the last thing you said to me only made me want you more because it was so honest and true, despite being disappointing. I would tell you that I have an ache that lives where my ribs split and that the weight of the nothingness defies all scientific rationale. I would ask what you were reading. I would ask about your family. I would tell you I have tableaus of us permanently etched in my mind’s eye and that there are places I can not separate you from in my memory and that a large part f the city now ‘belongs’ to you. I would let you buy me a coffee and then I would say goodbye again with all the conviction of the first time and then I would leave, walking slowly, allowing you the time to make up the distance between where you sit and my place on the sidewalk.  I will do this despite knowing that you are already looking down at the paper.

Taking Sides

Sometimes I feel that for every ounce that I love you, it must mean that I love myself less in equal amounts.

In my turmoil and doubt I am forced to take sides, pick. Am I with myself or against? And how can I rightfullybe expected to make this sort of decision? And so it goes that the conversation is never ending;  an intellectual journey mapped out be Escher. This image I have of you is elegant but impossible, hypnotic and hard to buy into as anything more than a fantastic hypothetical. And yet still, impossible to look away from.

 

I

Its all Timing

“The difference between a romance and a tragedy is just a matter of where you decide to start and stop telling the love story”

 

Have truer words ever been written?

Those we Love

Why is it so true that often times it is those we love the most that we wound so deeply? I haven’t heard his voice since mid-March. I have missed him; sometimes in a background, white-noise kind of way, other times like a limb. Two nights ago I woke up dry-sobbing after a dream I had about him.

I was at a party that was taking place outdoors. A giant backyard at a cottage or something. It was night, warm enough for the weather to be a non-issue. I was hanging out with X a mutual friend of ours since CEGEP. I kept asking X to tell me how This Guy (TG) was doing. No matter what he told me I wanted to know more. Details, specifics. As X spoke I could visualize TG perfectly. X told me TG’s story like a history, walking me through the years since I met TG. As he went through the years and phases I could see TG changing; hair longer, fashion trends fading in and out with the years. I knew TG was at the party but I also knew I could not see him. I was simply an impossibility. No matter how much X told me I wanted more, I was almost crazed. As he spoke I started sobbing; chest wrenching sobs that changed my breathing. So much so that I woke myself up. There were no tears but my stomach and chest felt as sick as they would have had I actually been crying. Only once awake did I cry for real…

In mid-March he had asked me to not contact him anymore. He said seeing me or being in touch would be too difficult, make it impossible to move on. I complied with his wishes. I missed him but understood. Who among us hasn’t felt that way? I caved and sent him a FB message a few months ago. It was a 3 e-mail back-and-forth that left off with me saying that if & when he wanted to I would be happy to hear from him. I never said what I really felt (mainly that I thought of him often and loved him and missed him) because I figured it would make things harder. I swore  wouldn’t run his emotions over the coals again but it seems, I am far too selfish for that. After that dream I had to check in. I believe that dreams are often the universe trying to tell us something and to be honest I was and remain very happy for the cosmic opportunity.

I just got off the phone with him. It was the strangest mix of relief and trepidation and longing and guilt. What I wanted to say was “I love you, I miss you, all I want to do is hug you for a very very long time.: Instead I asked after his family, job etc. I asked him if he would see me. He said maybe. Then no, then yes. I feel equal parts thrilled and guilty. I long to see him again but loathe the idea that his seeing me will leave him hurt. I don’t want to be selfish but I don’t have the energy (or real will) to be a martyr. My heart hurts and I’m crying and as it has been so many times before in my life, the one person who can make it better is the only person I can not turn to.

I Wish

I wish I could place ideas and words and images into people subconscious or dreams. If I could jimmy my way in, an anti-thief; leaving something of value behind and then creep out, I would. There are lyrics and feelings, messages that I wish people could instinctively feel and sense. This whole ‘communication’ thing with all its unwritten and fluid politics makes me tired.

Canada Day

Spent a great day walking around TO sampling the Canada Day celebrations with my friend T. The sun was shinning and the stars we aligned for goodness:

Great breakfast that I felt guilty for ordering (too much $ and too many carbs) ended up being free b/c they messed up my order…

Last minute Plants & Animals concert on the waterfront. AMAZING! Not only do they rock but they are from Mtl. Having been addicted to their album Parc Avenue, I was thrilled to catch them live in such a teeny venue. Also got in a game of scrabble, a yummy Indian dinner and good chats with friends lounging on the boardwalk by the water. No fireworks but hey – waddayagunnado?

Also, D called me. You haven’t heard about him yet. That’s because he has been notably absent from my life for over a year.  He fell of the face of my earth without a word and (foregoing all the lead-up to this) he called this evening. It bears saying that we were never lovers, never dated but we have, for many years, had (in my opinion anyhow) a very unique and, for lack of a more appropriate word, magnetic bond. We attended summer camp together for years, we partied together, we discussed art and the world together, hell- we were even roommates for a stint… All this to say we have some solid ground from which to rebound from but no matter, I still felt like I was talkibng to an ex. The conversation was stunted, halting, awkward. I felt like our words were made of the most delicate crystal, being held in the air by our tentative pauses and silences. I felt shy with him and scared. It made me sad and I hope we can move past it. I have missed him so much… I hope we can pick up where we left off…

And ikn other news Im getting my wisdom tooth pulled on Tuesday. Nooooooooooooooooooo!

Free

She turned her head and looked at him. They were sitting side by side facing the pond. Their knees pulled up they stared as the fountain spouted ever upward. It was a calming and, at least in her case, welcome distraction.

Her face was at rest as she turned to face him. No muscle strained, nothing pulled. Her eyes were soft and she spoke gently. She said quite simply “I am angry with you”. For a brief moment they locked eyes. Deep brown to olive green. Their eyes were at once friendly, warm, sad and edged with longing. He smiled, then beamed, then laughed. He let fall his head. His curls bounced with the sudden forward movement and with his head between his knees mumbled “I know, so you’ve said”. And then she was laughing. They didn’t laugh to dismiss the sentiment or to lift the mood. They laughed because it was nice, felt good that in the midst of breaking away they were still now, as they had been for some time, able to be open. The conversation had been short and honest and still somehow kind. There were things left unsaid as is always the case but the important stuff was laid out and the impasse was found to be, well, impassable. Despite that, there was still a sense of trust and saftey between them. It was this ease that, after a pregnant pause allowed her to stand up with such strength and standing behind him, put her lips to his hairline. She pressed down through her lips with the weight of her heart and slowly releasing the pressure said “Salut” into his hair. Then she turned and walked away. She heard him say “Goodbye ______” as she walked the park path back to the main street, and after allowing herself to be warmed by the sound of his voice speaking her name, she took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and smiled.

Free.

 

Live from Atop my Fridge!

Sunday night, May 11th

I have not posted in almost a month and I feel like I have failed. I meant to do it, I did. And I have excuses – good ones even. I have no internet connection at home (except from on top of my fridge, don’t ask how I found that sweet spot, inconvenient though it may be…) and I work long hours (8:30-6:30 w/out lunches most days). The other and more relevant side of that truth is that I am depressed. The job I was so excited about is frustrating and only mildly fulfilling. I believe and will it to get better though. Its only been 6 weeks and in those much has happened that would throw even the most optimistic and centered staff for a loop (my boss quit, she is much of the reason I took this job) and I joined at a very hectic time and started with a 3 week deficit due to the fact that the person in my job before me decided to do little work during her last weeks…

But all this is only part of the story. I feel overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time. By things that I wish were exactly reversed. Well, perhaps not exactly… I’ll explain:

I very much want to be in love and have someone be in love with me. I want these to be the same person (I can not tell you how often the opposite has been the case I have been the cause of many a broekn heart (I am told) and have spent many weeks mending my own several times over). I want to love myself (particularly my physical being, always the toughest part for me and a more prominent issue as I have no energy and little time to rectify this). I want to love my job. I want to have friends who ‘get’ me and who I want to spend time with and who feel the same. (I have a few of these but sadly they are not all in my current city). I want to like this damned city and I want to not have to worry so much about money.

I want a lot of things and I feel that I have worked towards many of them with a not insignificant amount of effort and yet I still feel (29 years later next week) that I am repeatedly coming up short.

OK, so I have my period, and yes my 29^th is fast approaching and no, I do not deny that these two factors are most likely contributing to my general malaise, but they are not the only trigger. I feel genuinely stuck and I am sad and scared and frustrated.

 

I want to be overwhelmed by someone (and feel good about it),I want to feel inspired by the city, by a book, by *something*. I want NOT to be overwhelmed by minutiae and work and negative body issues but I am not, and am very much so respectively and well, that just sucks.

So… all this by way of saying that when I need(ed) my Happy Moments experiment the most I have let myself down. (Great – add that to my recent list of failures…)

I’m starting again here and now.

I promised myself all week that I would splurge on the Sunday NYT and I did. I got the best espresso I could find and had 3 of ‘em while reading it. I bough a Leonard Cohen album on vinyl. I spoke to strangers.

A new list I just thought of starting. Things I did to self destruct today:

Bought a tub of chocolate ice-cream (can I blame Aunt Flo?)

Made an iTunes play list titled Love Songs for the Hopeful/less (Eek!)

Maybe typing these things out will help me stop doing them. Thoughts?

Passover

I am a traditional Jew is the sense that I value and carry out Jewish traditions. I also respect the basic tenants of the religion (family/community, education, performing good deeds). My personal brand of practice includes my not keeping kosher, my going to synagogue on high holidays, my knowing (most) of the biblical stories, my not agreeing with the role of thesexes. Some call this cherry-picking, I call it evolution. I may disagree with some of the customs but to my mind, over all, Judaism provides a solid moral and intellectual foundation from which to explore the world.

Religion however is not the main point of this post…

This year marks the 28th sedder I have attended/participated in and I think it noteworthy that this is the first time that the ‘counting of the omer’ has had any significance to me. I will leave it to you to read up on the background info. For now I’d like to relay a passage from the Haggadah, the prayer book used for Pesach (Passover):

‘S’firat Ha Omer (the counting of the Omer) is also a time for personal accounting as we measure and perfect our soul traits over the seven weeks. The primary traits are: love, fear, balance, constancy, gratitude, bonding and integrity.’

I plan on going through these in the coming days. These seven ’soul traits’ strike me a important ones and very worthy of both ’personal accounting’ and perfecting.

Tonight I start at the beginning; Love.

What do I have to take stock of this year in the Love department? There are surely several anecdotal offerings but I feel a distillation is best. In accounting terms I feel emotionally and know intellectually that I have managed to somehow continue to be surrounded and supported by good people who, each in their own way, love me. I also know that I have been reminded many times why I love those I love so very much. In terms of perfecting, I know that I have a long way to go before I am the friend I want to be. I am ever full of good intentions but my execution is lacking. I know I love but I also know that sometimes to love is not enough. Sometimes love needs to manifest itself. I want to call people more, send more mail (not e-mail, REAL mail), I want to remember people’s occasions. This is my self-appointed homework.

On a less cerebral level, I have reevaluated and reinforced my ‘wants/needs’ list as well as my ‘can’t handles’. I have a clearer picture of what I hope to find in a romantic/sexual partner and my heart and head seem to be coming closer to conversing in a language understood by both. Also I am inching closer to understanding where the disconnect between what I want to believe I feel and what I actually feel lays. This is perhaps the hardest bit because I know how capable and effective I am at building walls and bringing them down is admitting that I have been untrue to myself and dishonest with the world (not maliciously so but still…)

Its a life long process this business of living and love plays a huge part. I understand why it falls first in the line-up. I have missed much here and only scratched the surface. I may revisit. Either way, tomorrow: Fear.