Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Thoughts at the end of the year

New Years is a deep time for me.  It marks something.  Even before those first promises my new love and I exchanged that night 33 years ago, it has been a time of musing and promises for me.

Oh, not the resolutions to lose weight or do better, but more solemn vows, and more silly.  There have been years of prayer and years of tears, parades and parties, quiet and loneliness.  I think it is a time that we feel the most disappointment and yet always look for hope.

I don't know what I hope for this year, exactly.  There has been good changes for my family lately, and so knowing things will be better is not exactly a hope.  I want my hand to say busier this year, but that is a choice, not a hope.

I could hope for love.

A relationship is hard work.  I'm not saying it isn't worth it, I'm just saying I don't know if I have enough heart left for another grand passion.  Still, I think it would be nice to have a special friend - someone good for an occasional quiet dinner and some good cuddles.  I would like some of that caring and acceptance.  It wouldn't be a bad thing to feel a little desired from time to time.  Mostly it would be nice to have someone hold my hand when I really need to talk, and when I really need to just be quiet.

I would like to see the drama at my workplace just stop, or at least, to not live in fear that it is going to bite me in the ass if I just ignore it and do my job.  Why is it that bored people pick at each other?

I would like to be in that place that I have visited from time to time, that place of feeling centered in God's will and purpose.  Intellectually, I know that is the truth.  I just long for the heart stillness of walking in it, of being aware of the gentle guidance, of seeing with his eyes, hearing with his ears, and loving with his hands.  I want the prayers of my heart to be the desire of his love.

And I hope for you as well, whoever your are reading these words.  I hope that you have what you need: rain and sunshine in season, times that challenge and times of rest.  I hope for you love, I hope for you light, I hope for you life.

Happy New Year.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Sometimes I want to quit, too.

I have spent years healing.  For me, a great deal of this has been learning that it is ok to be me.  It is important to me to be a person of integrity; that what you see is what you get.  If I have done a kindness or made you feel cared about at some point, it is because that is who I am, not because I'm trying to make people like me.  If I don't really like you, I will be polite, but I will not let you close and will not seek out spending time with you.  I don't play those games.

I do play a game, my hobby, where people profess to hold high the ideals of chivalry and honor. Yet from time to time, and especially over the past few weeks, I have heard stories of people who have hurt other people playing this game.  Now, I know I don't know the whole story, and I know that you can't judge an organization by the bad behavior of a few members.  But people are quitting.  Sometimes I want to quit, too.

Sometimes I don't think I fit.  I don't have it in me to play manipulative games.  I don't form reality show type alliances.  I don't pretend to be someone's friend then stab them in the back.  I take my commitments seriously.  I like to be inclusive.  I like it when everybody feels valued, when everybody wins.

Sometimes I think I don't get it.  I think there are some unwritten rules someplace, and these rules are about being mean and leaving people out as a way to show power.  These rules are that if you are older or weaker, sicker or poorer, then you should expect to be pushed aside, overlooked, and have your work accepted, even expected, but not valued.

Sometimes I think I'm not wanted.  I know that this can be because of my own rejection issues stemming from a very difficult childhood.  But there are still broken places in my heart, and no matter how much I heal there will still be times that no being invited, even for reasons that have nothing to do with me, brings all the sad feels.  And I have learned I just have to ride the feels out, they are what they are and beyond reason.

Sometimes I don't think this is working.  It shouldn't be this hard to have fun.  I shouldn't feel this vulnerable.  I don't have time for this.

I like the play pretend, I like the creativity, and there are friends I love.  I just don't know, sometimes, how to deal with the uglier sides of the game.  So far, the reasons to say have outweighed to quit, sometimes I can practically feel that scale wobbling and shifting.

Sometimes something just isn't worth it.  If I have to compromise who I am to be accepted, it isn't worth it.  If I have to accept bad behavior because someone thinks their pretend power gives them some real power over me, it isn't worth it. If all that I can give right now is not enough, then I guess I am just not enough and it isn't worth it.  When I hear that people are disparaging me behind my back, it isn't worth it.  And even though I know that the actions of individuals do not reflect the whole, I have a great deal of understanding for those who have quit over these kinds of issues.

Sometimes I want to quit, too.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Most unlikely

People ask me from time to time, so here it is…would I want to get married again.  That seems like a simple enough question, but really it isn’t.
Would I get married again?  I might, if the right person came along.  My dear departed hated loneliness and he would have wanted me to marry again, or at least find another love.  But there are just so many reasons I don’t think it will happen.

First, it truly is unlikely that I would meet a man that would be compatible to me.  Notice, I did not say that I would be compatible to him, I am a pretty accepting person.  But I have observed that most men in my age range are not.  I am a spiritually minded follower of Jesus that doesn't go to church, a geek of several magnitudes (sci-fi and SCA being the two most obvious), viciously competitive at board games, and hopelessly, squishy, sentimental about the oddest things.  Also, there is my family.  Nice bunch of people, but we have quick mouths attached to weird humor.  It would take a unique man to be able to swim in that stream.

Oh, I do have a few standards.  I like a guy to be clean and fairly able to care of himself.  I don’t like motorcycles, tobacco smoke, or sports.  Don’t care if you like sports, as long as I don’t have to, but the other two are a bit non-negotiable, as the risks and odors are always there.  Also, I don’t lightly suffer fools.
But suppose I did meet someone compatible; then I would have to start that whole getting to know each other dance.  Do you know how much work that is?  I have been alive almost 59 years, and I’m assuming Mr. Interesting will be in a similar age range.  I don’t know if we would have enough sand left in our hour glasses to get caught up with each other.

But then, let’s say a miracle occurred and I met someone that I might consider starting a relationship with.  Relationship.  That implies, at some point, getting naked and stuff.  I haven’t gotten naked in front of a new man (not counting Doctors) in over 30 years.  I do not feel attractive and sexy, and if some man tried to tell me I was, I would figure either he was lying for some nefarious reason of his own, or perhaps deeply kinky in a way I don’t want to know about.  Then three is “the act.”  From what I hear, people have all kinds of expectations anymore that involve extreme hair removal.  Not only that, but I have never once in my entire life needed to use a condom.  I understand that they are basic now, but I don’t know the etiquette, the ins and out, so to speak.


If you are a mathematician, a statistician, a wizard of odds, you do the figures.  I think the chance of be getting married again are less than the chance of me winning the lottery.  Would I want to meet a man who could make me laugh, stand back to back with me when life’s battle get tough, and fill in the lonely places?  You bet.  I’m just not holding my breath.  Why do you ask, do you know someone?

Monday, February 24, 2014

Planning for future joy

Well, despite my best predictions, it looks like I'm going to keep living for a while.  Don't get me wrong.  Despite being one of the most cheerful depressed people you will ever meet, I am not actively seeking death.  I just haven't been actively seeking to not die, either, and given family history...

So, if this current state of affairs continues, in July of 2015 Disneyland and I will be turning 60.  So I was thinking about this the other day, and thinking that it would be fun to get an annual pass again next year and celebrate our great age together.  I should be able to save up and plan and make that happen.

But, I better not want it too much.  If I want something, just for my own joy, and want it too much, the universe will conspire to make it not happen.  I could tell you stories, oh yes I could.  I would just as soon prefer not to, though.  I want to try to remain a cheerful depressed person.  Thanks for noticing.

And then there is this.  I haven't been doing anything in particular to keep living. This is how it looked to me: I live in constant pain, I am going to be broke the rest of my life, and I am most likely not going to have another significant other.  Well, the pain is better - not gone, but better.  And don't try to blow sunshine up my skirt, the other two still apply.  The odds of either one changing are minute.

That still doesn't mean that I have the umph to drag my fat old butt around Walt's Dream as I once did.  So I guess I better work on, well, this and that.  I'm a pretty open person, but there is some stuff I'm pretty private about for twisted reasons of my own, and what I'm eating is none of your business unless we are sharing a meal.

So why am I even talking about this at all.  Because I am a stubborn old woman who is going to fly in the face what I feel to my fate in this life, and plan for a future joy.  And sit here in fear and trembling that just by saying I want it, it is sure to be snatched from my eager little fingers by some horrible life situation.  But, just on the off chance I can pull this off, I hope some of my friends will plan on spending some time with me, some time next year, in that happiest of Kingdoms.  And if you see me getting, um, healthier, please don't mention it or my contrariness will rise up in rebellion.

Yeah, I'm that sick and twisted at times, you have no idea.  But at least I know.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Some random thoughts on fear and learning.

This is how I jumped on the thought train the other day.  It was mentioned to me that some people where I work hide work sometimes instead of doing it.  The person mentioning was frustrated, because the system in place has other options if it is a learning issue, and some forgiveness if it is a time issue.  And as I thought about it, it occurred to me that part of it may be about fear.

Admitting you don't know something can be scary.  Admitting you don't know something at work, especially at a job you have been in for a long time, especially in this economy, can be terrifying.  Even if it doesn't threaten your job, you can feel embarrassed or shamed.  That is a lot to overcome to be motivated to admit you need help.

But then, how much of our ideas about learning are based on fear.  We hear "discipline" and most of think punishment.  How much of our whole learning experience, our whole life experience, has been about avoiding pain and loss if you get it wrong?  I am a big proponent of allowing children to experience natural consequences as part of the learning process, but let's be real, a lot of natural consequences suck big time.

Yeah, I feel fear.  I don't want to be homeless or hungry.  I don't want to be hurt.  I don't want to be lonely.  Fear is a natural response to the uncertainty of our world, to being small in a life that can suddenly be overwhelmingly huge in all the wrong ways.

But I still can't think that fear is the best motivation for learning, and there has to be a better way.  But it is what most of us have grown up with, how most of us have learned to function.

And my thoughts have only begun to try to wrap around "the fear of the Lord" vs. angel always starting off with "Fear not!"

I don't know.  This is not the beginning of my thinking about this, and I'm sure that it will not be the end.  I am pretty convinced that the opposite of fear is love, but I'm not sure how that can be applied to most everyday learning situations.  Still, I can't help feeling it is worth the time and effort to try to figure out.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Guess what I learned today

It was a silly little test in a magazine years ago, but I like silly little tests, something like "How much of a Southern Lady are you?"  For someone who grew up in Southern California in the 60's, quite a bit really.  I don't know why I was surprised.

Ladies don't sit like that. Ladies don't go out with their hair a mess. Ladies don't talk loud, laugh loud, walk loud.  Ladies are always polite.  Ladies don't giggle about boys.  Ladies don't like sex (and if they do, they never talk about it).  My mom may have been a dustbowl transplant, but that Southern Lady training runs deep.

So I grew up with a deep, emotional understanding of right and wrong, sin and shame.  And sex is sin and shame.  Talking about it, doing it outside of a sanctified marriage, even the occasional risky joke, that is all naughty and shameful and rebellious, and probably needs to be punished.  Oh, it is so deliciously attractive, but oh, the shame!

But I also grew up in Southern California in the 60's.  I came to adulthood in the disco era.  And I was a reader with an avid interest in psychology (not surprising, if you knew how crazy my dad was).

I understand a lot about the range of human sexuality.  I know about how people can get twisted up, but also how very much is normal.  I accept everybody else's attractions and passions as being, well, acceptable as long as we are talking consensual adults.  Yeah, it's all good.

As long as we're not talking about me.  (If we're talking about me, then I know that I have am probably about as twisted up as they come.)  Nothing to see here.  Move along.

Because I still remember what it was like, those first powerful feelings of my own attractions.  I remember the hunger of first kisses, and how thrilling it was to feel some boys undeniable proof that he liked being close.  I remember nights....

I remember shame.

Today I was listening to a podcast (I do this at work, it keeps me sane while doing a very boring job).  http://2ndstory.com/2013/12/change-stories-new-year/ if you are interested.  And this guy was telling about his experience coming out, and how he felt being real about his physical feelings, and his first sweet kiss.  And suddenly, this wasn't an out there, clinical story.  I was so identifying with his feelings.

And suddenly this weird flip happened.  Academically acceptable sexuality of other people suddenly was very heart for me, very real with all the feels.  And so suddenly my unacceptable sexuality with all the shame became, well, more normalized, more acceptable.

Do you know that it is OK for me to just feel attracted to someone?  I didn't.  Did you know that the attraction I feel for men is actually how I was born and not just cultural conditioning?  I didn't know that either.  Not at a heart level.  Shame wouldn't let me know that.

Rainbow issues, and rainbow freedom, isn't really just about LGBT stuff, no matter what you might think or believe.  It really is about all of us becoming more accepting and aware of our own sexuality and emotions, no matter what they are.  It is about all of us being able to love without shame, no matter who we love.

Don't know how this is going to change me yet.  Maybe profoundly.  I hope so, but I've spent a lot of years hiding and beating myself up.  Bad habit, but it is what it is.  On the other hand, who knows?  Maybe next time I see some guy I think is, um, interesting, maybe I'll be able to let my mind go there... without shame.