Jan. 9th, 2009

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Ida is in love.
Originally uploaded by raybear
I visited [livejournal.com profile] robobebe this morning! She is less than 24 hours old! Life is amazing.
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It almost doesn't feel right that I can have a person from my past emerge mysteriously from my memory banks, and within seconds of plugging the name into google and facebook and whatnot, I know exactly what they are up to. I mean, mostly it can be interesting and satisfying. But occasionally, I am weird and want to savor the wistfulness of not-knowing. I suppose I could not look it up, but I am not so good at resisting temptation that is immediately available. I'm better off just hoping to be someplace where I can't look it up (in a car, on the highway between small towns) and then I'll forget before the next time I'm at a computer. I suppose what doesn't feel right about it is the immediate solving of the mystery, which isn't very good fodder for the imagination. Because there are certainly other figures from my past who are untraceable on google searches, have been for years, and I'm perfectly ready for some of those questions to be answered.

I was about to say that my 2009 is getting off to a sluggish start, but then I glanced at the clock on the phone on my desk and saw it was only the 9th and thought, "oh, that's not too bad. Only 9 days." Sometimes I get locked in the hypermodernist way of the world and lose perspective of time passing, not everything has to be so dreadfully urgent all the time, I'm trying to retrain myself a bit on that one. Last year I didn't make a long list of new year's resolutions, I only did one, really, and that was 'working out on a regular basis' and I did a pretty great job of that last year, I'm maintaining it okay right now. This year I have appreciating the art of phone calls a.k.a. overcoming phonephobia (so far, so good), and added two more, one concrete (to get more fiscally responsible and stable) and one metaphoric (to allow myself to be happy). The latter is one a long time in the making, and I don't mean it in quite the sense of 'if you aren't happy, its your own fault' as if hard isht doesn't happen to us or effect us, but rather what I mean is that I'm frequently prone to not allowing myself to be happy when maybe I am, or maybe I could be if I would just quit talking myself out of it for a few moments. This tends to slow things down for me, and then I lose track of time and can make me panic, but I'm trying to damage-control that as well. Its January, its post-holidays, I'm grieving some things, of course I will have moments like yesterday where I don't exactly feel distraught, but just slightly perplexed at how I seem to manage to do everything wrong. Then today, I think, oh silly, its not everything. In fact, its not most things. Part of the allowing myself to be happy campaign is fully appreciating everything around me, because if I examine it, I have amazing things and experiences and people all around me. It all sounds so dippy, which is probably why I haven't written about it publicly, but oh well, too late now. No surprise, I'm a sap, I don't know what I feel compelled to hide it behind clever, wry observations. Or rather, why I don't think they can't co-exist. I think I aspire to have the mind of a pessimist and the heart of an optimist.

Tonight I was going to go to temple for all-night sitting, in honor of buddha's enlightenment day, but I'm feeling anxious about it, not up to doing it, so I think I won't, but then that inspires guilt and shame and that isn't entirely helpful either. I'm looking at those things too. I had a moment recently, during work practice at temple actually, where I was instructed to do something a certain way, because if it was done otherwise, the monk would "yell at us." It was said with a laugh, but I knew it was also real (not 'yelled' in a berating way, just in a firm, no-nonsense way), and so I was being hypervigilent about doing it right so I wouldn't get yelled at and ashamed by it, when suddenly I thought, wait who cares? So what if I'm yelled at? I'm an adult, I don't have to listen to it or take it to heart. And then I kept working fastidiously. But without fear of being shamed. It was far more pleasurable. And you know, hey, what do you know, there goes some big blockade I've been carrying around forever in my unconscious, knocked down spontaneously. I suppose I've been chipping at it awhile though. So maybe I'll got over there at midnight, or maybe no enlightenment sitting tonight, maybe next year. I might instead want to feel enlightened by the discs of Battlestar Galactica that are waiting at home for us to watch.

May 2010

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