Trust myself in the process. Through the process. Have faith in another person’s choices. Because if it weren’t possible; if people couldn’t change for the better (or potentially even the worse) all the psychiatrists on this wide universe would be out of business. Side of the road. Luggage in hand. And let me tell you, I’ve known and conversed with quite a many, and none of them have empty pockets.
Because it is maddening. Going against your best judgments to go beyond what you know you’ve been conditioned to be thus far. Because it has to fully unteach you what every other bad experience has taught you. It has to be the feeling with your heart that says ‘go slow’—but the feeling in your mind that says ‘you still have to go.’
Because it has to be the big hugs for the small reasons.
The consistencies. Never wanting to leave.
It’s got to be wide and mad.
I don’t know how to feel it anymore, do you?
I don’t know I’ve really felt it before.
I met a girl in Forever21 yesterday. Cute, skinny, brown chic with high energy and style. I was twirling in the mirror as I asked her (of two non-matching pieces) ‘if this looked right.’ Of course, she had my style, so the answer was ‘yea girl you could do that.’ We got to talking.
She, about wanting to go into psychology, I, about how and why I decided to first get a management degree and then pursue my dreams writing. I looked up and we’d been talking for about forty five minutes. My teaching dreams never cease because of days like this. Of course I told her to follow her dreams—but before she did so to look long and hard at what she wanted, had to have—to survive.
I miss teaching for times like this. But I do love love love my job. Sometimes, things change.
Friday I was sick—so it put me behind, I guess I’m still recovering, but it really was a beautiful day yesterday, real simple. I took my kid for a hair cut and slept for a few hours. I like to pinpoint the days I’m really happy because a lot of times you don’t get them as often as you’d like. I woke happy, I stayed happy, and I went to sleep happy.
Few more edits back for clients this week and a final manuscript due. Like I said, happy.
Picture from: avadakedavraurmother.tumblr.com
We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we’re ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”
What is this? Who am I now? If I like her better does that mean who I was wasn’t real at all? What if I made myself up? Does this make me a fiction writer? What if I look for the worst to ‘save face,’ but what if it’s steady? Am I going to ruin it now? What if I fall apart? What if it never comes together? What if it comes together as I fall apart? Does it matter? When it stays the same doesn’t it still change? What if I want nothing to change? How many dishes can I break a year and still stay sane? Anybody know a good body shop, my car needs work? I need a new car. I want books that need a ladder to get to in my house. I wanna share my wishlist. I think he might listen. I really mind the turbulence, I’m ready for the landing. I’m really going to try my damnedest. This is the problem I want to have.
Writing late, when edits are finally ready, his voice mails.
When I know I can.
The Weeknd; the singer and the ending of a busy week. If you haven’t heard this guy, go jump.
A clean living room, never mind the rest of the house. Sweet Sleep. Chirping. My puppy’s nose.
Someone genuinely asking how are you?
“Stop looking for the floor to cave—everything’s ok” ~My best friend
Try as I might, I can’t get any relaxation. This is the spa I’ve been dreaming of. MmmMMmm.
Business is good. School is ending. Life is happily full of ruckus. But what am I dreaming of? Relaxation. Kay Redfield Jamison said in“An Unquiet Mind,” “We all move uneasily within our own restraints.” Maybe I cried when David died of a heart attack (her love), but only because the foreshadowing was done in such a subtle way. It’s the subtle things that drive me.
Another favorite of lines was when Jamison quoted an anthology about love:
Thank you for a lovely weekend.
They tell me it rained.
Awww, I want that. I need that.
P.s. On the verge of some really big subtle things. Really big. Spoken like the true oxymoronic extremist I am.
Having a shitterific day. How are you?
Broke my cell this week and only some contacts carried over to the new one. If I had your number and you haven’t spoken to me in a while…
it’s likely I don’t have your number any more which means we aren’t going to be friends much now are we?
I am dreaming of…
Then relaxation like such:
And this beautifully designed bedroom (Gwyneth Paltrow doesn’t mind, really we go way back)
Apparently I like things that hang and swing in my house, lmao!!!
Secret: I’ve never had a macaroon and I’m not having one until I get to Paris. I’ve never been to Paris.