In The Middle Of The Lake

Leaving the shore of certainty, I jumped into the lake expecting that the months of preparation would be worth it. That at the other side on the other shoreline there were the right conditions for growth. On the other shore, I was sure, would be answers to questions I didn't know I had.

But here I am. Six months of swimming and I'm treading water in the middle of the lake. This is the point in the swim where every direction possible is the same amount of effort, equally exhausting, not at all glorious seeming. I could turn around as easily as I could carry on towards what once seemed to be the ultimate destination. Equally, there are new directions I could swim. I could throw my hands in the air and declare "Fuck it all!" and stay camped out on the tiny island I'm clinging to for respite. Or, after finding strength, pick a new direction and just swim until I hit land. 

It all sounds and feels a lot like giving up. I'm not prepared to give up, but it might be practical to consider what shore I want to hit and where I really see myself thriving. The brochures for the promised land are less and less appealing. 

Before this post is written, I will have spent nearly a full 24 hours clinging to my small island. The sun rose and set and I barely moved from my spot. Anxiety in the water was too much, so I'm grabbing what small piece of terrafirma I can. Simply 'being still' and wearing out the switch that flips on the thoughts I'm too tired to think until finally the switch gives up and I'm exhausted. 

Depression and anxiety are terrible. I'm sure I don't know the half of it, and I don't wish to, thanks. I know it's temporary. I'm confident I'll be ok. I'm coping how I am able. I am aware that it may not be sufficient, or right, or perfect, or enough. I don't want to be rescued. As tempting as it is to shoot a flare and flail my arms in the direction of a rescue boat, I'm afraid of what shore it will take me back to under the guise of safety. I need to figure out where to go next, not be forced. 

So, I'll cling to my island and figure out the next steps to deciding which shore I'm swimming towards. I think I know, but I want to be confident. I miss confident. 

Am I on this island to learn something big, or am I torturing myself needlessly? That's tonight's question. In the meantime? Just keep swimming.... 

Bright Shining Star

It's easiest to write about the epic, grand adventures of being a lion. Although I haven't done that lately, my life really doesn't suck. Yet, somehow I take solace in documenting the stuff that shakes me. Perhaps because it's also defining and shaping me. Maybe because the big globs of guk are what challenge and motivate me (even the yummy kind from Lick's)

I've been quiet on the blog about what's happening in my life. Don't mistake that for quiet period. Just on the blog. I whine and cry at every opportunity. Not my best attribute? To catch you up: I moved to an unfamiliar place, became surrounded with unfamiliar things and people, lost my job, failed at attempts to land a new one, became discouraged, grew tired of trying, and decided to make a change.

Here's where my head is...

The Plan

Why shouldn't a non-academic type like me with a previously debilitating writing anxiety who fights daily to believe she's smart enough go to school?

Why shouldn't she??

I have a plan. It's a great one. It ends in education that I don't have to pay for 100% on my own. Sure, there are still hoops to jump through. There are still many opportunities for me to become discouraged before it even begins. There's plenty of time to freak out, melt down, become a puddle of tears and even change my mind.

In fact, I had those moments today. The realization that I can't afford to live how and where I am living. The anxiety that the knowledge that I must sell my car gives me (and just after I successfully landed expensive insurance that I'm told was on the cheap side). I don't even have time to worry about whether or not I'll be accepted. Or to fuss about how well I will perform. I'm too busy pacifying the screaming baby in my head that says that this is financially unmanageable.

And so, on the way to see my therapist today (how convenient?), I broke into tears and 'decided' that I'd toss away the silly dream and find a job immediately. [note: the job thing is complicated as I am applying for a second career education, meaning unemployment is part of the criteria. As soon as I'm employed with a job of a certain level, I am disqualified. Also, I can't afford school on my own]

More signs and wonders? 

On my way through the many strange streets my GPS chose to take me today, I passed by one campus of the school I applied to. I had never noticed the campus. I didn't need to go that way, ever. Yet, here I was.

I don't remember if I was thanking the Universe for a 'sign' or perhaps hollering 'fuck you, Universe' out loud in my car at that moment. Ok. I lied. It was definitely 'fuck you'. I couldn't help but wonder why.


Also today, I picked a parcel up from the post office. Something I ordered a while back finally arrived. The Collective Tarot was one of those pretty, shiny things I couldn't live without. Of course, upon receiving it I cried again. This time because I felt guilt at spending the money. Money I didn't have.

I looked the cards over thoughtfully, and when I finished crying I thought carefully about the one pressing question I was tormenting myself with all day long. "Should I just give up dreaming and accept my reality?"

I drew The Star, and this is what the accompanying book has to say about this card:

When The Tarot Collective started this project, the question came up in peoples' minds, "are we really qualified to write about the cards and offer guidance? We're not experts!" When the tarot was consulted with these questions, the Star card was pulled. "no, you don't have all the answers," the card said, "but if you trust your intentions and draw upon the still unknown resources you will have available to you, you will be able to create something worthwhile and powerful." In exact words, this is what Tarot: Mirror of the Soul had to say: "This card represents a beautful process. Cosmic inspiration of the highest nature is recieved and made manifest on the material plane... pass[ing[ it on in full service to the highest good... A new crystal-clear vision lends form and purpose to that which a moment ago was only a vague impression... The power of the inspiration you receive gives wings to your soul and lets the apparently impossible become manifest in marvellous ways." 

And so from those words of reassurance, we decided to believe in magic, and this deck was born. The stars can only truly be seen when the night is clear. When the air is clear of clouds, pollution, and negative thoughts. When seeing the star clearly, its healing light replenishes us. 

[...] the Star is there to remind you to look to the future, create your own ideals and to live by your own truth and cultural values, rather than those of the colonizer/oppressor and systems they have created based on lies of what beauty, strength, wholeness, connection and home are. The Star is Inspiration coming from the truth deep within yourself...

I dunno about you, but it really struck me. I have to try to do this for me. No matter how bad it sucks. No matter how I end up. Can you point me to a soup kitchen?

Reaping and Sowing

In my days with Jesus, I taught the reaping and sowing principal. Call it what you will, but I believe that what you give comes back to you. Whether it's three fold like the pagans say, or disguised behind the word Karma doesn't really matter. It comes back. I've given a lot. Time, emotional commitment, monetary stuffs. Also, some not nice things too. And while I believe these things come back to me, I'm also having to remember another sermon I used to preach. The blessing is in the giving, not the receiving. Translation? I'm denying someone a blessing who may try to give something to me by being too proud or too 'polite' to accept it.

However. And it's a BIG however. While I don't want to deny anyone the blessing of giving while I do all that reaping... the very idea of accepting any charity in the form of 'Don't worry, I'll buy your coffee' is very stressful to me. Financial gifts and occasional kindnesses mount up to be one big opportunity for disaster if ever unrelated disagreements crop up. The last thing I ever want to be is a burden.

So many things and thoughts causing me stress, and I get to wake up and do it all again tomorrow.

The Unnatural Habitat (or How The Lion Broke Her Groin)

All good stories start with Once upon a time, and what a time it was once upon indeed! Or something like that...

So then.. once upon a time a lion moved to the big city. We'll call her Ophelia.

Anyone who's anyone knows that lions don't live in cities unless they're caged and forced to make a spectacle of themselves while being tormented through the bars.

Somehow, Ophelia escaped the 24/7 lifestyle of a showpiece lion in a city, and was free to roam the streets. Despite getting lost often, the humans were unaffected by her presence on streetcars, subways, and in coffee shops. Living was easy for the little lion. Or so it seemed.

Replacing a cage for a bed that somehow resembled a cage (or at least the frame of one), Ophelia figured everything would become familiar soon enough, and with that thought she worked hard to make it so.

There was just so much ROOM in her non-cage-cage. With only four posts to contain her, shiny chain dangling to hypnotize her, and a very conveniently placed electrical outlet, Ophelia nestled into her unnatural habitat. No zookeepers were watching, no humans passing by, and no other lions napping in sunbeams with her.

Just Ophelia and her favorite (cat) toy (?)!

Trying so hard to make her non-cage-cage feel familiar and enough like a cage to be comforting, she got up close and personal with her new home. Rubbing herself on every part of the structure to claim it as home, often times climbing acrobatically and contorting her too-chunky-to-stand-on-her-head self in the most unusual positions. Through it all, she had her faithful toy. Never more than 6 feet from that magical electrical outlet. The lion growled and howled and wriggled and writhed.

Feet firmly planted on the two posts spread furthest apart.

*cue record scratches*

Wait a minute. The two furthest apart? What was the lion THINKING?

The toy whirred on while the giant goof of a not-so-domestic cat spread her hind quarters wide. The toy was so fun, it was difficult to stop, and somewhere in all of the playing with a furry pussy, Ophelia disregarded the over-extension of a rather important muscle and played on... and on.... and on... until she collapsed with the toy firmly in her paw, and bliss written on her face.

When it was morning, the little lion was dizzy with groin pain. She broke it. She broke her groin. And she would do it all over again minutes later.

Her only regret? That she tried too hard to familiarize herself with her surroundings in her unnatural habitat when she knew all along what she needed most was a cage.

Signs And Wonders

A ? shaped cloud seen from the car on the road

Is it really worth debating whether or not the 'coincidences' of our lives are really just coincidental? If I choose to believe the slow drifting plastic shopping bag that keeps dancing by my window is a sign from a higher power given to me in a moment of questioning and I act on the answer I believe it has given, I win. 

Whether you argue that it's foolish or not, believing in signs, wonders, miracles, messages, etc. just may be the permission we give ourselves to believe in ... ourselves. I'll call it what I wish, but when out of the ordinary occurrences steal my attention and captivate me briefly, I listen. 

What do I listen to? The desires of my heart, perhaps. Regardless, I believe in signs and wonders. 

Do you?