Summer is coming to a close quickly; I start school again on Tuesday evening.
I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.
I'm such a sucker for the long nights, Sunday evenings on the porch with friends and a suitcase of beer, deep sunsets out my kitchen window as I'm whipping up dinner for 10 people. There's something about summer that is so warm and carefree. A friend recently got a new tattoo, "Endless Summer" scrawled upon her arm, and I've been reverting to that image often this week. It's a quote from a novel that I can't remember, but I comprehend the sentiment down to my soul.
I fight change so hard, even though the whiffs of fall have stirred me into a frenzy lately. The other morning I woke up and the central air had clicked off for just a few minutes, and I swear the clear sky out my window carried a breeze. I threw on a long-sleeve wrap, just in case, and was rudely awoken by the 95 degree heat on my doorstep.
Most of my friends adore fall. I admit, I can't wait for football season. I can't wait for the heat to abide so I can play in Audubon Park on weekends and go for walks in the Quarter without sweat dripping down my back. Festival season will start up again. Friends will come to visit, and I'll have an excuse to travel home for a weekend. There's a lot for me to look forward to, even if it feels bittersweet right now. Decadence is in two weeks. I've got half my costume picked out, and I can't wait -- the glitter, the crowds, the queers, the madness. I adore it. The weekend after I'm flying to San Antonio for the wedding of two amazing gay men, and, to sweeten the pot, I'm staying with my best friend I haven't seen in months. These mitigate the end of summer, a bit.
In my head I have a list of things I wanted to accomplish before the end of summer. A trip to the beach. A night at the clothing optional pool, hopping from the sauna to the pool and back to the cabana bar. The contract work I owe my old job. A membership at a gym and a commitment to go. Quitting smoking. Taking photos of the city. I have, so far, accomplished none of this. But I have spent many fantastic evenings serving dinner and playing UNO and dancing at the drag shows and... so many things I can't cross off a list because I never dreamed to put them there in the first place. I suppose there is an ever-unending list of unaccomplished tasks. Dreams will always remain dreams until they become goals, or better yet, priorities.
I am ready for school to be done. I'm so fatigued with this degree. It's a wonder I haven't quit by now; I'm not really sure what my motivation is anymore, except to finish what I started. I haven't been enjoying my classes. I don't really know if I see any purpose, and it's looking like I won't finish until December 2012 the way I've put things off. I hope that part flies by. It always does, except when I'm rolling my eyes through three hours on a Tuesday night, ready to go home and eat and shower. I suppose I'm only finishing because education is a privilege that I have access to. Because not finishing doesn't feel like an option. Because I hope someday this degree is useful -- and in some ways, it has been already. Because the thought of quitting and beginning again terrifies me. I don't think I have the drive to do this again.
(Repeat these words to me, please, two years after I've graduated when I have some wild hair that I want to do this again.)
Oh, sweet summer, how I'll miss you.
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
Grant me a reprieve from the anxiety that comes with change.
Grant me faith to keep going, and peace to live in the moment.
And, you know, while I'm asking for shit, a pony would be great. But I'll settle for someone who will let me tie them up. :)
Showing posts with label renaissance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label renaissance. Show all posts
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Like This City Is On Fire Tonight
My thoughts are echoing through all 1700 square feet of my house, and the wind is beating on the windows, rustling the curtains through the cracks. It's hard to believe that over the last few days, there has been a rotation of thirteen people (at least) in and out of this house, with the majority crashing on couches and beds, smoking on porches and steps, cooking soul food for the masses, and drinking, drinking, drinking. Oh, Mardi Gras. This week has been a fantastic excess for me -- from sex and sleeping in to copious amounts of drinking and parades and revelry. So much chaos! By Monday night, I always start to run out of steam, and by Tuesday... I'm ready for a long nap, a hot shower, and a long reprieve.
It feels good to come back to the real world. Sometimes, I nary say I do prefer a pumpkin over a carriage.
Yesterday morning, I headed to my favorite church for my ashes. Unfortunately, due to mass traffic gridlock, I missed the service by a few minutes. Instead, I turned and headed back to a Catholic church I had passed on the way, where people were overflowing out the door. I missed most of the service, but as there were easily over 400 people waiting for their ashes, I made it just in time to head toward the end of the line. I even caught a song or two by the gospel choir; I've never heard the staid Catholic hymns sung by an all-black choir in a call-and-response fashion -- so incredible. It was a gorgeous, traditional church, striding the border between the Treme and French Quarter, but clearly touched by the unique history and love and power of the community. I felt guided there, almost by serendipity.
The older white priest touched my forehead, making the sign of the cross in black, and spoke over me -- "Remember, you are from dust and to dust you shall return."
And so began Lent.
As a child raised Episcopalian, I remember debating each year what to give up. Cokes? Chocolate? There didn't seem like many options. I usually chose something I liked, vaguely, always something superficial. I don't remember Lent much until my sophomore year in high school. By then I had more or less walked away from Christianity, but for some reason that year, I wanted to practice Lent. I tried to give up swear words, and in my childish way, I would mark on my arms with a pen each time I used one. That lasted roughly a day or two, as I came home marked up on both arms, which my mother was not so pleased with.
The next year, at the urging of my girlfriend (who was raised Catholic, but was even further removed from any belief or practice than myself), I gave up soft drinks. Cokes, for those of us raised in the Deep South. All of them. That act went over much better -- in all honestly, I still don't drink them, except as the occasional mixer.
But as an adult, I find the ritual of cleansing, sacrifice, and self-reflection to be very important. Call it Lent or call it Ramadan -- I don't think the time of year, the nature of the religious affiliation (or lack of one!), or the motivation is so pertinent. I think what's important is making sure to schedule time to reflect, to focus, to prioritize, to heal. For me, I choose Lent -- even though I don't identify as Christian or practice most Christian beliefs and rituals. But I do find power in rituals, and Lent is one I have chosen to take with me into my adult life.
Especially after the mad excess of Mardi Gras in New Orleans, there's something appealing about a bit of austerity. It's so easy to get caught up in the chaos, as I was this year -- constantly going, drinking, seeing all my old friends who had come to visit, meeting new people, making sure that everyone is having a great time. My self care needs, my thoughts, get lost. There is no time to reflect and process.
This description could so easily be a metaphor for life. We get caught up in day-to-day work schedules, in school, in paying bills, in dating and partners and children, in family obligations, in dreams, in text messages, in friends and crises. It is easy to get swept away, to move from one thing to the next constantly, never giving myself a moment to think, a moment to reflect, a place and time to do so. I don't believe Lent is simply about denying myself chocolate or caffeine, but instead, it's about cutting down on some of the distractions and refocusing myself. It's a chance to make improvements. Life moves so quickly; it's difficult to slow down long enough to make positive changes. I've heard that it takes a minimum of 21 days to change or form a habit, so I feel like I've got twice as good of a chance to make that happen during Lent.
Last year, for Lent, I took on two major changes. First, I was approaching the end of a relationship, and I needed time to think and decide what I wanted -- to continue dating or to end things. But in the midst of all the frustration, anger, and pain I was feeling, I had lost sight of everything else I wanted -- I was drowning in school and work, having left those responsibilities behind. So I planned to refocus my thoughts and prioritize my needs and obligations better.
Second, I gave up something. I come from a Southern culture where gossiping is considered impolite but expected; I grew up in Mississippi surrounded by family and friends who didn't make conversation any other way. But I find it hurtful and often, downright mean -- yet, I felt like I did it much more than I should, almost as a guilty pleasure. So I gave up talking badly about people. I made an effort to refocus that energy -- to try to find something good to say about everyone, to learn to think in the positive. I find this is a long-term change, one I still have to work on some days. But it has become tremendously easier as the days go by.
This year, my Lenten goals are equally complex. I've had an incredibly busy semester, in grad school full-time and in two jobs, and I'm finding that I've taken on so much that I'm giving half-effort to everything. It's disappointing and frustrating. I want to re-prioritize. I want to make sure I still have time for myself and for my friends, and I want to make sure I'm cutting out whatever obligations aren't necessary.
I'm giving up one of the biggest hindrances in my life: guilt. I have a horrible guilt complex, and I find that I can't work past it, even when I feel guilty about issues and problems I can't control. I find that many of my decisions and actions are powered by guilt in ways that aren't healthy. I want to make sure everyone around me is happy, and I feel guilty if I'm not working to do so. I feel guilty about saying "no" to anyone's requests for help, even when it's in my best interest to not take on more obligations. I feel guilty when I don't perform 110%, when I don't accomplish what is probably superhuman. I feel guilty when I fear someone else is disappointed in me, even when I feel completely justified and sure of my actions.
Guilt has a place, yes. It drives me to apologize when I need to. It reminds me that there are some actions I shouldn't take because there are long-term consequences, even if they seem pleasurable in the short-term. I'm not writing it off completely. But guilt can also be disabling, especially when that guilt surrounds things out of my control. It's a powerful motivator, yes, but also a negating one. I would prefer to find my drive through love and strength, through my interests and passions, not through the fear of not accomplishing something, not through the fear of not satisfying everyone, and definitely not through the guilt that stems from that fear.
So for Lent, I'm going to refocus. I'm going to prioritize. And I'm going to find strength, not guilt, in doing so. I'm going to empower myself to rise above my fear and guilt, to give up indulging in those very powerful emotions. And hopefully, at the end of 40 days, I won't be carrying so much baggage around -- but instead, I'll find that indeed, positive change and austerity can become a lifestyle -- not simply 40 days without potato chips and chocolate bars.
It feels good to come back to the real world. Sometimes, I nary say I do prefer a pumpkin over a carriage.
Yesterday morning, I headed to my favorite church for my ashes. Unfortunately, due to mass traffic gridlock, I missed the service by a few minutes. Instead, I turned and headed back to a Catholic church I had passed on the way, where people were overflowing out the door. I missed most of the service, but as there were easily over 400 people waiting for their ashes, I made it just in time to head toward the end of the line. I even caught a song or two by the gospel choir; I've never heard the staid Catholic hymns sung by an all-black choir in a call-and-response fashion -- so incredible. It was a gorgeous, traditional church, striding the border between the Treme and French Quarter, but clearly touched by the unique history and love and power of the community. I felt guided there, almost by serendipity.
The older white priest touched my forehead, making the sign of the cross in black, and spoke over me -- "Remember, you are from dust and to dust you shall return."
And so began Lent.
As a child raised Episcopalian, I remember debating each year what to give up. Cokes? Chocolate? There didn't seem like many options. I usually chose something I liked, vaguely, always something superficial. I don't remember Lent much until my sophomore year in high school. By then I had more or less walked away from Christianity, but for some reason that year, I wanted to practice Lent. I tried to give up swear words, and in my childish way, I would mark on my arms with a pen each time I used one. That lasted roughly a day or two, as I came home marked up on both arms, which my mother was not so pleased with.
The next year, at the urging of my girlfriend (who was raised Catholic, but was even further removed from any belief or practice than myself), I gave up soft drinks. Cokes, for those of us raised in the Deep South. All of them. That act went over much better -- in all honestly, I still don't drink them, except as the occasional mixer.
But as an adult, I find the ritual of cleansing, sacrifice, and self-reflection to be very important. Call it Lent or call it Ramadan -- I don't think the time of year, the nature of the religious affiliation (or lack of one!), or the motivation is so pertinent. I think what's important is making sure to schedule time to reflect, to focus, to prioritize, to heal. For me, I choose Lent -- even though I don't identify as Christian or practice most Christian beliefs and rituals. But I do find power in rituals, and Lent is one I have chosen to take with me into my adult life.
Especially after the mad excess of Mardi Gras in New Orleans, there's something appealing about a bit of austerity. It's so easy to get caught up in the chaos, as I was this year -- constantly going, drinking, seeing all my old friends who had come to visit, meeting new people, making sure that everyone is having a great time. My self care needs, my thoughts, get lost. There is no time to reflect and process.
This description could so easily be a metaphor for life. We get caught up in day-to-day work schedules, in school, in paying bills, in dating and partners and children, in family obligations, in dreams, in text messages, in friends and crises. It is easy to get swept away, to move from one thing to the next constantly, never giving myself a moment to think, a moment to reflect, a place and time to do so. I don't believe Lent is simply about denying myself chocolate or caffeine, but instead, it's about cutting down on some of the distractions and refocusing myself. It's a chance to make improvements. Life moves so quickly; it's difficult to slow down long enough to make positive changes. I've heard that it takes a minimum of 21 days to change or form a habit, so I feel like I've got twice as good of a chance to make that happen during Lent.
Last year, for Lent, I took on two major changes. First, I was approaching the end of a relationship, and I needed time to think and decide what I wanted -- to continue dating or to end things. But in the midst of all the frustration, anger, and pain I was feeling, I had lost sight of everything else I wanted -- I was drowning in school and work, having left those responsibilities behind. So I planned to refocus my thoughts and prioritize my needs and obligations better.
Second, I gave up something. I come from a Southern culture where gossiping is considered impolite but expected; I grew up in Mississippi surrounded by family and friends who didn't make conversation any other way. But I find it hurtful and often, downright mean -- yet, I felt like I did it much more than I should, almost as a guilty pleasure. So I gave up talking badly about people. I made an effort to refocus that energy -- to try to find something good to say about everyone, to learn to think in the positive. I find this is a long-term change, one I still have to work on some days. But it has become tremendously easier as the days go by.
This year, my Lenten goals are equally complex. I've had an incredibly busy semester, in grad school full-time and in two jobs, and I'm finding that I've taken on so much that I'm giving half-effort to everything. It's disappointing and frustrating. I want to re-prioritize. I want to make sure I still have time for myself and for my friends, and I want to make sure I'm cutting out whatever obligations aren't necessary.
I'm giving up one of the biggest hindrances in my life: guilt. I have a horrible guilt complex, and I find that I can't work past it, even when I feel guilty about issues and problems I can't control. I find that many of my decisions and actions are powered by guilt in ways that aren't healthy. I want to make sure everyone around me is happy, and I feel guilty if I'm not working to do so. I feel guilty about saying "no" to anyone's requests for help, even when it's in my best interest to not take on more obligations. I feel guilty when I don't perform 110%, when I don't accomplish what is probably superhuman. I feel guilty when I fear someone else is disappointed in me, even when I feel completely justified and sure of my actions.
Guilt has a place, yes. It drives me to apologize when I need to. It reminds me that there are some actions I shouldn't take because there are long-term consequences, even if they seem pleasurable in the short-term. I'm not writing it off completely. But guilt can also be disabling, especially when that guilt surrounds things out of my control. It's a powerful motivator, yes, but also a negating one. I would prefer to find my drive through love and strength, through my interests and passions, not through the fear of not accomplishing something, not through the fear of not satisfying everyone, and definitely not through the guilt that stems from that fear.
So for Lent, I'm going to refocus. I'm going to prioritize. And I'm going to find strength, not guilt, in doing so. I'm going to empower myself to rise above my fear and guilt, to give up indulging in those very powerful emotions. And hopefully, at the end of 40 days, I won't be carrying so much baggage around -- but instead, I'll find that indeed, positive change and austerity can become a lifestyle -- not simply 40 days without potato chips and chocolate bars.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Made a Wrong Turn Once or Twice
"Someone once wrote, 'If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.' Yes – & I’d add that if something is worth doing, it is also worth doing halfway & then quitting. It’s also worth brooding over, and making lots of plans, & then going off & doing something else. Having many little interests, amateur enthusiasms, & failed ambitions creates a rich stew out of which you can boil fresh ideas." -- James Kennedy
I’m feeling mired right now, and I know it’s because I need to face this decision in the face.
For years, I’ve felt that if I went back and did things differently, I would have gone to nursing school. Last semester, facing mountains of uncertainty, I began to seriously consider the idea. My school was (is) losing funding at a mind-numbing rate. I’ve been there a year, and I think we’ve lost at least 6 million from the annual budget – and this is a school still in recovery, still facing serious repercussions from Katrina damage. Even when programs, professors, and staff aren’t being cut, the professors are often smart enough to leave before they’re left with no job and no notice. My undergrad faces the same issue – even though it’s a private college – and the thought of putting in so much time and effort into two degrees from institutions that probably won’t exist in five to ten years was a bit overwhelming. Hell, for awhile (and even now, though I try not to think about it), I wasn’t sure I would make it out of the University of New Orleans in time to graduate before my department ceased to exist. Unhappy with my job prospects in the last year and feeling already emotionally overwhelmed, school became a nightmare I couldn’t face. So I checked out for most of last semester, committing only minimal time and energy, and started considering my options.
Transferring is a last resort, at this point. I’d be able to take 12 credits; I have 21 plus 6 more from this semester. I don’t have the energy or drive to start over again from that point, and I would be forced to move. The only other program in state is Baton Rouge, and hell no, I would rather cut off a limb than move there. Commuting is out; the program isn’t even nationally accredited and my tuition would double, plus I couldn’t work and commute. Fuck that.
So I chose to stay put. I also didn’t want to leave New Orleans. I’d been here a year, was on shaky emotional ground, and wasn’t ready to give up on this city or the possibilities here.
Instead, I considered investing in a different career. Nursing would be something I’m interested in. I’d never have to worry about not finding a job – there’s a worldwide shortage of nurses. I’d have an income I could depend on, instead of working in social services, which is infinitely unpredictable (see: federal/state budget shortfalls, dependency on donations, and political chaos), underpaid, and emotionally taxing. So I looked at my options, and talked to several people. I still had two biology and microbiology courses I would have to take as pre-reqs to apply, so I figured these would be a test – to see if I wanted this, if I had the drive to do this. If I was crazy enough to get another fucking degree.
Fast forward.
So. I’m doing ok in biology class – I have a 86 in lab and a 89 in class, which I could bring up to an A. But the experience is really showing me that maybe this isn’t the right path. A part of me feels guilty for jumping into this, for looking for other ways to bail ship because I’m scared of all the chaos. Both my bio classes are sucking the life out of me. I’m still taking a full masters’ course load, and working two part-time jobs – and yet, because my bio classes require so much work, they’re getting put first. But I enjoy them the least. I really don’t have the interest or passion in science that I do for sociology and public health. It’s brutally clear to me what a difference I experience when I go to a bio class and when I go to soc class. There’s a part of me that wants to prove to myself that I can do this, if I want it badly enough. But I fear that’s the part driven by guilt, driven by the fear that – what if I’m not good at this? – and I want to bite back and say – I don’t have to be good at everything.
And good God, the thought of three more years of school sounds so brutally intense that I can’t imagine. I got my undergrad in 3.5 years, and I had a 3.9 GPA. I’m going to graduate with a Master’s by the time I’m 24, and right now I have a 4.0. I’m not sure what I’m trying to prove, or who I want to prove it to.
But there’s a limit to how hard I can push myself, and I’m staring into that mirror right now.
I realized last week that everything I was doing was really half-assed: work, homework, studying, friendships, sex, all of it. I hated it. I constantly feel like I’m doing damage control lately, paying attention only to what is immediate and necessary, what is going to explode first.
I want to write grants to fund a more permanent place for me in the work I'm doing now. I want to fund my own research. I want to plan more events for the trans community. I want to have a few nights where I can just get a fucking beer without feeling like I need to be studying for eight hours a day. I want to be able to go on a date, without having to go home after dinner and study. I want what I love, what I’m good at, to be good enough – and if it isn’t, I don’t want to spend now worrying that the only way I’ll be able to support myself is to keep working service industry for the rest of my life. If I keep sinking so much time into pursuing so many different plans, everything I do will always be half-assed.
(I can hear my advisor giving me two pieces of advice, yet again: a) slow down and b) focus – don’t think so broad)
A lot of this is tied up with guilt about failing. A lot of it is tied up with guilt and anxiety and fear about money.
So I’m writing this to let that guilt go.
So far, every decision I have made this semester I’ve been immensely pleased with. Truly, there aren’t a lot of decisions in my life I regret – and being a sociology major, conducting research, and working in the non-profit sector, have been some of the most fulfilling and amazing opportunities that I have had. So I’m looking for peace in this decision – I’m looking for peace in letting go, recognizing that I gave myself the chance to pursue this dream, but it turns out that it’s just not right.
My dream is to work in a sex-positive context for the rest of my life – to work with sex education and HIV/AIDS prevention, to empower people to connect with and embrace their sexuality, to address sexual health issues, to work against the social constraints which limit gender and sexuality expression in our society. If I went into nursing, I knew that I’d either work with mothers or with HIV/AIDS prevention. There are a lot of paths to get to where I want, but I’ve just got to accept that I can’t take them all.
Instead, I’ve got to start prioritizing and discriminating. I’ve got to let go of my guilt. And, as I keep hearing over and over and over in the last few months, I’ve got to be physically, emotionally, and psychologically present. I want to be here, now, not tied up in anxiety about where I want to go next, what I haven’t finished yet, or who and what I’m putting off.
So, starting Wednesday -- Lent, for those of you who aren't paying attention -- I'm giving up feeling guilty. And hopefully, before then, I'm going to drop both classes, and I'm going to start investing my time in what I already have on my plate -- and not try to find a quick-fix for all the questions I haven't even been asked yet.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Both Hands
and both hands
now use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing
graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
how hard we tried
Almost a year ago, I saw Ani play at Tipitina's. I remember hearing this song and feeling like I had been hit by a brick -- it was as if she was singing about me and my girlfriend. I felt like I was hearing this song for the first time. It was an illuminating moment, and for me, a really important step in recognizing a failing relationship and starting to let go. It was months before I was at peace with that decision, and sadly, over those months I lost a lot financially and emotionally that probably could have been avoided. But sometimes, you just have to hit rock bottom to start to rise again.
2010 was, in a lot of ways, a miserable year. It started out amazing with the Saints winning the Superbowl, but so quickly that became overshadowed by my girlfriend's bullshit, the BP oil spill, and my own inability to exorcise myself from a really bad relationship. I cried almost every day for the first five months of the year. Sometimes, it felt like I was doing nothing but crying for days straight. There were a few moments that shine through that darkness -- my first day at Jazz Fest, visiting family in Mississippi, a few great conversations with new people in my life, a mess of amazing festivals and food, and more. Summer was, for me, a saving grace in a lot of ways. It's always a great reprieve after winter ~ I always treasure warmth and sunlight, long evenings outside, summer dresses, and being barefoot. But this summer was unique -- I quit a job that had been weighing heavily on me, I found a new energy in 3am beers and late night conversations, I got the nerve to save up and start traveling out of my comfort zone, and I got a therapist. I found myself facing a lot of what made me unhappy, and I started the upward climb into a post-relationship renaissance. I realized that by not investing in many of my friendships, I had missed out on a lot. So I cut that shit. I started, slowly, to analyze and exorcise everything in my life that wasn't making me happy. And by December, I had done a whole lot of cutting and cleaning.
December has been such a whirlwind of travel and spending time with friends. It's been exhausting and rejuvenating at the same time. But more on that later. In the last month, I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I want from myself in 2011. Of course, the year will bring a thousand things that I can't predict. It will be drastically different from the last year, simply because I am starting this year in a totally different place. I don't want guidelines or hard and fast rules. But I want a list (I love lists!), a beginning point. So, this is more about hopes and dreams than resolutions and rules.
1) The older I get, the more I find the edges of my personality are filed down -- I become slower to anger, faster to understand and empathize, more accepting, less stressed and reactive. I want that. I want to learn to center myself when I most need it. I want to take a breath first, not after.
2) I want positivity in my life. I want to surround myself by people who don't talk shit about others. I want people in my life who spread compassion and love. I want to do so, myself. I want to look for the good in everything. I don't want to ignore the rest, but I want to learn to acknowledge it and respond accordingly.
3) I want to work on my own honesty. I have a tendency to run or shy away from questions and truths that make me uncomfortable. I tend to gloss over talking about my emotions. I have to force myself to be emotionally honest and open, and I think that process will become easier as I work through it.
4) I want to encourage my creativity.
5) I want to take time to enjoy where I am, every day, as much as possible. I want to spend more time in the moment than looking back or looking forward.
I want 2011 to be a year I look back on fondly, not one I wish would go by faster. :)
now use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing
graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
how hard we tried
Almost a year ago, I saw Ani play at Tipitina's. I remember hearing this song and feeling like I had been hit by a brick -- it was as if she was singing about me and my girlfriend. I felt like I was hearing this song for the first time. It was an illuminating moment, and for me, a really important step in recognizing a failing relationship and starting to let go. It was months before I was at peace with that decision, and sadly, over those months I lost a lot financially and emotionally that probably could have been avoided. But sometimes, you just have to hit rock bottom to start to rise again.
2010 was, in a lot of ways, a miserable year. It started out amazing with the Saints winning the Superbowl, but so quickly that became overshadowed by my girlfriend's bullshit, the BP oil spill, and my own inability to exorcise myself from a really bad relationship. I cried almost every day for the first five months of the year. Sometimes, it felt like I was doing nothing but crying for days straight. There were a few moments that shine through that darkness -- my first day at Jazz Fest, visiting family in Mississippi, a few great conversations with new people in my life, a mess of amazing festivals and food, and more. Summer was, for me, a saving grace in a lot of ways. It's always a great reprieve after winter ~ I always treasure warmth and sunlight, long evenings outside, summer dresses, and being barefoot. But this summer was unique -- I quit a job that had been weighing heavily on me, I found a new energy in 3am beers and late night conversations, I got the nerve to save up and start traveling out of my comfort zone, and I got a therapist. I found myself facing a lot of what made me unhappy, and I started the upward climb into a post-relationship renaissance. I realized that by not investing in many of my friendships, I had missed out on a lot. So I cut that shit. I started, slowly, to analyze and exorcise everything in my life that wasn't making me happy. And by December, I had done a whole lot of cutting and cleaning.
December has been such a whirlwind of travel and spending time with friends. It's been exhausting and rejuvenating at the same time. But more on that later. In the last month, I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I want from myself in 2011. Of course, the year will bring a thousand things that I can't predict. It will be drastically different from the last year, simply because I am starting this year in a totally different place. I don't want guidelines or hard and fast rules. But I want a list (I love lists!), a beginning point. So, this is more about hopes and dreams than resolutions and rules.
1) The older I get, the more I find the edges of my personality are filed down -- I become slower to anger, faster to understand and empathize, more accepting, less stressed and reactive. I want that. I want to learn to center myself when I most need it. I want to take a breath first, not after.
2) I want positivity in my life. I want to surround myself by people who don't talk shit about others. I want people in my life who spread compassion and love. I want to do so, myself. I want to look for the good in everything. I don't want to ignore the rest, but I want to learn to acknowledge it and respond accordingly.
3) I want to work on my own honesty. I have a tendency to run or shy away from questions and truths that make me uncomfortable. I tend to gloss over talking about my emotions. I have to force myself to be emotionally honest and open, and I think that process will become easier as I work through it.
4) I want to encourage my creativity.
5) I want to take time to enjoy where I am, every day, as much as possible. I want to spend more time in the moment than looking back or looking forward.
I want 2011 to be a year I look back on fondly, not one I wish would go by faster. :)
Monday, December 27, 2010
Rebirth
Rebirth Brass Band is one of the most well-known brass bands in NOLA. They can bring anyone to the dance floor -- yo mama, yo girlfriend who don't dance, yo second cousin twice removed you haven't seen in ten years. This is exactly how I feel about being back in NOLA today :)
Sometimes, it doesn't hit me that I live here until I'm driving down St. Charles or Louisiana and I'm struck by the majesty of the oak trees... or I'm walking through the Quarter, or headed to a Saints game, or dancing in the streets at a festival, and then, it's like lightening strikes -- how could I want to live anywhere else?
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Preparation.
I’m hanging out at the house, trying to pack for my trip in three days, but my cat has decided that my lap is decidedly more comfortable than the window seat. If he wasn’t so adorable…
As part of this workshop, I’ve been told to do some preparatory homework – thinking, if you will, about what it is that is driving me to go across the country for a weekend.
I like lists, so it's easy to start there.
Things I’m bringing: layers of clothes, new comfy yoga pants from Target, two (or more?) books, the remnants of a shattered heart, a whole lot of curiosity, a craving to experience the leaves falling in upstate New York, a lot of confusion about where I am and what I want next, a newfound sense of community and addiction to New Orleans, an irrational fear of losing my luggage or getting mugged, a dream of seeing the Stonewall Inn, a crazy libido, some moneys, two scarves, a lot of indecision, a history of sexual assault, an interest in kink, a body exhausted by work, and my camera and new CF card.
What motivates me to do this:
Good question.
Renaissance. I’m in a very pivotal place in my life, and though at times it feels like I’m free floating and directionless in a terrifying manner, I am forcing myself to dream and jump in and play with new experiences. I’ve never been to upstate New York, I’ve never been to a workshop/retreat with a group of strangers, and it’s been years since I’ve had to do the kind of emotional and introspective work these workshops require. Plus I’ve never done this kind of “work” in a way which embraces eroticism and sexuality. Yet, all of these things interest me intently. There’s a national (and maybe international?) network of people who are playing with sexuality and queerness in ways I’m fascinated by. I’ve let this part of my life wane in the last few years, and I want to reconnect with my interests and what other people are doing with sex education, kink, sexuality discussions, conferences, readings and workshops, erotica, and other venues.
Intertwined into this mess is a need for healing. I’m still reeling from the pain and chaos of ending a relationship over the last few months and all the insanity in between. I wish I could simply go to Albany and leave all of that pain there, but I know better. Healing is a slow and intensive process. I’m moving through it – I went from miserable, to functional, to ok, and now I’m grateful that the bad days are fewer and further between. But I still have those days, and I will have them after I get back. I do think having to really put myself in a place to work through that anger and pain and frustration, to face it when I’m sad instead of brushing those feelings aside, will be a big step in this process. I need to find places where I don’t feel the need to be a hard ass, where I feel safe enough that I don’t shut off, where I’m challenged to move past the protective defenses and into confrontation. So that’s what I hope to achieve: movement forward.
I’d love to say that maybe I could come back from Albany and know where to go next. I have some big decisions to make – to go to nursing school or not, to finish this degree at UNO or transfer, to to stay in NOLA or move, to apply for new jobs or take out loans, how much I need to or want to work, etc. I have some minor decisions, too, which don’t always feel so minor – what to do about Elles, whether to walk away from a potentially sticky situation, whether to go home for Thanksgiving, etc. I don’t know if I’ll find the answers to any of these questions in New York, but I think emotional, physical, and psychological journeys can coincide. At the least, I’d love to have some clarity – or blind confidence that things will be ok. Heh. Those aren’t the same thing, but really, I’ll take either at this point.
What else do I want from this workshop? To become more comfortable with my body. To find the drive to rediscover horseback riding, yoga, painting, and other interests I have let slide. To start exploring tantric, or at least, get some foundation for doing so. To relax. To meet new people. To check out of my daily life for a bit. To start investing in this blog more, writing more, exploring erotica more.
On that note, this is my second day off in three weeks, so I don't want to spend the time writing. And it’s fucking Halloween! So I’m off to start packing, go watch the Saints game, and hopefully wash my costume in time for tonight. :)
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