Comparable Dreams

"Comparison is the killer of creativity." I read that once and it makes sense, though it hasn't fully translated into action. I'm certainly no killer and least of all of myself, you'd hope. This life is as it is, as it should be, even. Strangely enough I've been thinking lately how there was a time I dreamed of living in Chicago with a mini cooper and boston terrier, working at some socially progressive organization. That was my dream, the fantasy of the day. But here I am, about to move into yet another home in this lovely city, with an albeit, non-bostonian, feisty cat, but driving a silver hatchback and doing the most important work in healthcare I can think of. Funny and heartwarming how those dreams maybe do come true. As if, if you aim it, they will come. Here I am, with the perspective that perhaps I am exactly as I should be. That is that, I suppose.

I bought pajamas covered in smiling vegetables that read "Turnip the Beet" that made me giggle in the store, seemed like a good investment. Smile investments. Also, I hope to find more energy, it seems to have run amok these days. To cook and dream and exist a bit bigger. My sinuses feel a bit rowdy these days, hope to prevent full-blown infection. sniffle sniffle snort snort.

Anxious about breaking out of after-work habit of going home, but looking forward to seeing a beautiful soul. Hoping for much needed soul-relating chats.

Wednesday, you're not so bad.

On a Beach

I'm trying my best to not think of you quite so often and, when I do, redirect my waves to something else entirely. What do I even like to do? Today I thought I might go to the beach to breathe in the sand and nature, but they are closed until some day in May. Apparently there are no forest preserves within a decent distance, so I might try for a park. But I also need to eat. I don't want to go home. I realize how lonely I can so often feel. Sitting through these discomforting sensations is not the easiest and I often rebel against the urge to run. To run so far away. To forget for a bit. But I don't use alcohol or shopping for these things, most times. I want to buy food and drown myself in the most comforting things, but I try not to. I want to face it head on, but maybe there's more I could or should be doing.

This morning the train was halted because someone jumped in front of it, I can't imagine being that driver or that person-such pain. In a rush, I drove an atypical path to work and have felt unnerved much since then. Trying to be better about not looking outward, but inward, to so many preexisting pains and triggers. No one can save me and I do not have an active awareness that is what I may have expected, but perhaps I did. Learning to heal these wounds is so rife with confusion and anger and helplessness, though not always productive. My therapist seems certain I don't possess codependent traits, but I gather I have not most accurately conveyed the obsessive and consuming nature of my thoughts. Learning to function by myself, with myself. This isn't what I wanted, but it's not what I don't want. I'm doing as I must, I think I must. Each moment, a new wave-some destructive and some so calming. The beach of my brain. Watching the clouds, attempting to avoid destruction or distraction.. Here I am.

This Space

Perhaps I am just floating around a bit, no direction in mind.
At times, as unnerved as I am freed.
Faith. Faith in the cosmos or universe or anything.
I suppose it acceptable to merely exist
in this space and this brain space.

Thoughts of 2016

Things that have occupied me as of late:

Minimalism.
Goal setting and self improvement. Future Aspirations. Passion Planner.
Journaling and reflection. Being less reactive.
Debt-free living.
Effective communication and relationship health.
Cooking anything and everything at home.
Bernie Sanders.
What does it mean to be an ADULT? Do I need to be one? Am I one?
Should I take up computer coding? Or maybe medical coding?
The new Star Wars and how kickass it is. Woman power rules.
Acquiring more healthy habits and maintaining them.Weight Watchers?
And a million other things.
Busy bee brain.

Cookies and Gold

I feel heavy now. Heavy and somber. Like my heart is too much for my own skin. Ready to burst out and run away. Leave me, as I've been left. Maybe I left myself or maybe never knew myself. Learning, learning as I go. Why is there such pain in the teaching? Because it makes it stick-the lesson becomes imprinted in your being. I do wonder if you ever reach a quota of scars, of too many lessons learned the hardest ways. I like the quote that your heart keeps breaking until it stays open. When really I fear that my warmth and wellness has become and is further becoming callused and frayed. Broken and misunderstood. Never to have been or will be. Why must we be so alone? Forever we begin and end, alone. There could be a million around and yet we remain, alone. It shouldn't be such a saddening fate, but it just is. Even as we open ourselves in the deepest ways to others, we remain alone. With ourselves. Does this mean we are never, in fact, alone? It's merely a matter of getting to know the one that is with us, always. I can't and shan't be saved or found by anyone other than myself. Grasping and executing that has proven one of the most challenging of life. This day, this lesson. And on and on. To tomorrow or maybe just this next moment and the one after that. I live even as I feel deadened by the heart wrenching reality of living this life as it be. Learning to sit through the cracks and shards and piecing them together with gold or cookie dough. With a wooden spoon, I seek to mould the contentment of now. Whatever that means-it just came out like that. The same and all together different as I've been any other time. Right now, with my nut cookie soul.

These Zen Questions

With an unsure pace
she slowly proceeds out her room and down the hall.
I grab her hand and guide her towards the back door.
"Which car is yours?" she asks. And again once more.
"It's the silver one," I respond, pointing towards the car.
She opens the passenger door and sits in the seat.
"Where are we going?" she asks with a slight smile.
I repeat the plan, as I have numerous times in the last 2 minutes
"We're going to visit your son, my brother. Do you remember his name?"
She looks at me with a puzzled smile, "You know his name," I say, "it starts with a W"
"William," she says. "That's right," I assure her.
Conversations like these are common place and may seem simple.
But they are everything.
She is my Mom.
Some days she can't recall who we are or our names. She never can quite remember our birthdays, though too true she brought us into this world.
Often I regret the questions I never asked before her memories got buried.
Questions like what it was like to have 3 kids, to have so many untold secrets, to build your life around so many others. I miss and grieve for what I wanted us to have.
But it's not about me most days.
It's about these simple questions.
Guiding her through uncertainty and panic.
I grasp her hand and tell her I love her.
She smiles back at me
and even though she'll forget this all in another moment,
I relish in this opportunity.
She teaches me to be present in that way.
A zen master in her own right.
She only knows now and some of the past.
Some days she seems broken, as I feel broken
but other days she is the smartest person I know.
Teaching me, even now.
To live this life the only way we can-in this moment. In these simple questions.
I turn the key in the ignition and shift the car into reverse.
"Where are we going?" she asks me.
I smile, in this moment.

9/18/15

Decimated into so many pieces-you think I'd be accustomed to this place. But it hurts. It hurts like hell. Trust and time. Time and trust. We invest so much into projected happiness and well being. I'm not mad, so just so sad. The ways we mold ourselves for love.