Stuck

Last night I drove home under a full moon, and I thought about where I am in my life.

"It's been a rough few months." I think.  And then I think "Wait a minute, this time last year, I was in pretty much exactly the same place I am now.  What gives?  Why haven't I been able to progress in a year? What's stuck?"

Some things have changed.  I can deadlift 100 lbs. fifteen times in one work out.  This time last year I was barely able to use a 15 lb. dumbbell.  I've got a better sense of self - I've realized that people actually like me, and that I'm funny, and I'm a good friend.  It used to surprise me when people would want to spend time with me.  I told myself a story: that I was invisible, and unloveable.  So, that's changed too.

I think a part of that change, that rediscovered sense of self, has impacted how I feel about other parts of my life - or rather - how I want to change the way I manage the parts that I am unhappy with.

If I'm completely honest, I spend a lot of time blaming outside factors for my lack of forward movement. I was waiting for our beloved (ancient, incontinent) dog to pass before doing anything about moving to a new house.  I don't do a good job of cleaning the house we live in because my husband doesn't pitch in as much as I'd like him to.  My finances aren't where I want them to be because my husband and I don't share the same philosophy when it comes to money. You see where I'm coming from - I haven't taken adequate responsibility for my own stuff.

Is it true that it's harder to manage shared finances than just doing it on your own?  Sure. Do two people make more of a mess than one?  Probably. But, just because he buys a video game when I'm not expecting it, that doesn't mean I can go buy a dress.  Just because he doesn't pick up his pop cans, that doesn't mean I shouldn't wash the floor.

These are little-big things.  They are small things that can have a big, big impact when unhappiness around them piles up over days, weeks, months, years.

Then, there are big-big things.  We went through the fertility testing process.  Our options, at the end of it all, would mean that we would not have natural children of our own.  We discussed, and dismissed adoption.  Except that I can't really dismiss it.  I can't really let go of the feeling that I would be a good mother - that I want to have that chance.  I can't figure out yet if I can channel that into being a Big Sister - if being the cool "aunt" or the nifty lady down the block will be enough for me.  And if it's not, what does that mean for the path we're on?

So, I'm stuck.  Just as stuck as a year ago, albeit for different reasons.  I need to sort out what I can change - where I can unstick me. 

...so I don't have to dream alone

This past weekend I over-scheduled myself, which is a pretty common thing for me.  I get so excited about having time to do things that I try to cram 48 hours of things into 24 hours.

On Sunday, I missed a chance to go to a Lammas ritual with a local pagan group I've worshipped with a couple of times.  I went to a Pirate Festival with my friends instead, which was pretty awesome, and I got an amazing leather Steampunk-themed waist cincher.  But that is beside the point, because I have been missing a spiritual community.

I used to have a really strong spiritual community. My friends were also the people I worshipped with, and it filled so many of my needs.  Unfortunately, just over a year ago, my circle disbanded because I was the only one still feeling a need for ritual.  So I have practiced alone, or with one friend, or with this other group of people that I am still getting to know. 

As much as I enjoyed my Pirate Sunday, I missed going to ritual.

Apparently, my subconscious agreed with my conscious, because this morning I participated in a dream ritual.  I remember the tail end of it: the fact that there were a lot of people there, some friends, some strangers.  I remember singing, although I sadly cannot remember the actual song.  I remember dancing and drums.  And then my alarm went off, and the dog needed help, and the feeling faded a little, but I could still hear singing on the edge of my hearing, like someone's radio was on in the next townhouse over.  I crawled back into bed for a bit, and breathed, and reached out for the dream.  And in that few moments, I heard a voice.  It was partly mine (or at least the way I sound in my head) and partly another woman's voice.  She/I said "You aren't alone, even when you feel like you are.  You will get what you need, even if it's not what you think you want.  You will be supported, and loved." 

It's been a bright spot in a dark time, and I'm thankful for that moment.

I smell like pool!

I was rudely awoken this morning an hour before my alarm was set to go off by a stinky cat bum in my face. I got up and cleaned her up and realized that I was not going to get back to sleep. So, what do you do at 5 am on a Friday morning? My usual choices would have been
1. to climb back into bed, steal the covers back from my husband and lay there for an hour, perhaps falling back to sleep 15 minutes before the alarm would go off
2. to head into work, getting there almost 2 hours early
3. to fall back asleep on the sofa in front of the tv and wind up running late, panicked and grumpy.

Now I have a new choice to add to that list: go to the gym. A little over a month ago I joined a fancy schmancy gym. The point of joining this particular one, the most expensive in my city was to do exactly what I did this morning. They are open pretty much 24/7 and there is a women's only pool there that is open from 4 am to midnight every day but Sunday. I was in the pool this morning by ten to six and swam lengths for a half an hour, before relaxing in the hot tub for a few minutes. I was showered and on the road to work with a breakfast smoothy from the gym's coffee bar by 7 am.

Once upon a time, even if I had had this option, I wouldn't have taken it. Now I'm finding that movement, whether it's a Monday night Zumba class, a lunchtime walk with a co-worker, or an early morning swim, is becoming a necessity for me. It's a really great feeling, and is a reawakening of how I used to feel many years ago when I danced fifteen hours a week. What's really neat to realize (as I did in the pool this morning - swimming is also a great time for thinking) is that I am also not restricting myself to one moving thing a day. I didn't think "Well, I could go for a swim, but I'm planning to go to belly dancing tonight, so I don't really need to." So today, I swam, and I'll go for a walk at lunch, and I'll go to belly dancing tonight. Tomorrow I'll go to a Pilates class. I may not get to the gym on Sunday, but I may wake up feeling the need to move, and if I do I will, but if I don't, I won't beat myself up over it (which is also a new thing - giving myself permission to do exactly what I need to do for me).

I am really enjoying the discovery of me, and my body, and what it is still capable of, even after all the years of struggle and neglect and pain.

Guenivere

Just now, sitting at my desk, working on vacation reconcilitaion and listening to "Guenivere" by Shaye, I had a major revelation.

There was someone I was so angry with for so long. I just realized where part of that came from.

I was mad at her for being like me, with my storied sexual history, and her hiding affairs, and both of us being cheaters. She was meant to be the one who was stable and stuff, and she wasn't. I was mad that she lied to me, yes, and that she used me to further her agenda in her relationships, but I just realized that it was really that I was mad at me, and mad at her for being like me.

You see, until my current relationship, my current marriage, I have never had a relationship in which I was completely faithful. Even in my first marriage, which was an open one, I managed to go outside the rules of engagement, as it were.

This part of the song was something I believed about myself for so long:

"Sorry but I can't help myself
So I can't help you
I'm always searching
For something new
It's in my nature to be untrue"

It's something I still struggle against, and while I know that I wouldn't cross that line again (because trust me if it were going to happen , it would have happened this year), it's something I'm aware of. I get crushes, I flirt with people, but I work very hard at keeping that arm's-length engaged.

I wonder where this comes from in me. It's quite likely that at least one of my grandfathers philandered, and I know that another family member flirted with the idea but didn't follow through. Is it nature? Does it have something to do with experiences I had as a teenager and my resulting lack of self-care? I think the answer is a little of both.

Ultimately, I think I was chasing a fairy tale. People talk about how you don't want to settle, you should wait for the perfect...whatever. I don't think I have settled, although my life is not a fairy tale. That's just as well, since I would get pretty bored up in a tower all day.

"It wasn't just you, it wasn't just this
Maybe I'm looking for something that just don't exist
It wasn't just you, it wasn't just here
I'm not lady, I am Guenivere"

Impromptu Poetry

Leone tagged me to do some impromptu poetry. Her's rhymes. Mine doesn't.


Cat

I fell in love with you after we broke up;
After you decided
(and rightly so)
That you deserved more in a girlfriend
Than a bi-chick who was already
Mostly committed to her boyfriend
And two cats.

I enjoyed our nights while we were a couple.
Our Portishead underscored lovemaking;
Waiting for your roommate and her girlfriend
To slam into or out of your apartment.
I looked forward to making out in our tiny kitchens
While we waited for the tea to brew.
I relished your scent,
(Body Shop, Second Cup and Pope Joan)
But it was none of these things that made me fall for you.

It was later, when we were friends.
It was our Tuesday teas
(What is it with me and Tuesday?)
When we talked in a way we hadn't when we were focused on
Each others bodies.
When you told me about the women you dated after me,
And the ways in which they wronged you,
And I wanted to hurt them, but you said,
"No".

It was later again, after I married, then left the boyfriend,
(But kept the cats)
And you moved across the ocean
That I missed you most;
That I realized your importance to me,
And that you found my phone number in a pile of papers;
That I finally felt settled in my skin.

I'm not big on the whole tagging thing, but I think there should be more poetry in the world, so I'd like tigerleo, semicrunchymom and noirbettie to give this a shot. Also if you like to read poetry, please go check out Natalie Smith's poetry, but bring some tissues, 'cause she's goooood.

Something came over me last week.

I reached out to two people that I typically only have contact with when it is absolutley neccessary.

This resulted in a good phone conversation and a lovely Saturday morning.

There's something to be said for the spirit of this season.

A woman in harmony with her spirit...

"A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense, and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself, and only herself." ~ Maya Angelou

This week at work our whole team - all 15 of us - have been face-to-face for the first time, ever. We have had people visiting from Halifax (Nova Scotia, Canada), Irving (Texas, USA), Egham (England) and Singapore. It's been a pretty neat experience all around.

Yesterday morning we did an ice-breaker, a get-to-know-you kind of exercise in which we had to answer questions anonymously with one or two words and then guess who had filled out which form when the answers were read out loud. I described myself using the words that came to me first, not over-thinking it, and was the first one finished. When it came time to guess, I was consistently guessed for almost every submission, except for the ones using descriptors like "sporty" or "adventurous", and my own.

Finally, on the fourth time my sheet was read, and after 12 of the 15 profiles had been accurately guesses, they put me together with my submission.

I've been trying to figure out since whether I don't project myself the same way I see myself, or if in the 8 1/2 months I've been there, people haven't been paying much attention, or if it's some combination of the two.

This has caused me to really think about how I see myself, and how I think I project "me". I've come back to the quote at the top of this post. That may not be quite how I'm doing things right now, but it's certainly where I'm heading: to being me, and only me.