Tag: love

Longing for Catharsis

I have a lot of emotion going throughout me right now. It has been a calm yet tumultuous few/several days over here, and the circumstances suggest that there will be at least a handful or so more.

And yet…

Perhaps this has been thrown at me so powerfully simply so that I might get husked into gear on a few different things… meditation…, finishing sorting…, fitness goals…, art. These are things I have wanted to be greater parts of my life, especially lately, yet I had joy taken real steps towards making that happen. Perhaps these stresses are here to encourage – read “force” – me into just going ahead and doing them already.

I shall consider this, and see what actions lie immediately before me as likely aids in further alleviating this discomfort. While running, especially with the weighted vest, had been somewhat cathartic, I can tell that it is not enough. I will run myself into the ground, if I keep pushing it the way it feels I would need to do to get this all out of me. I have already begun the meditation this past week, and have felt a pull to do even more of it – it felt right but not enough. It was the same with doing laundry. I have a feeling the others will be the same, too.

Tomorrow, my calendar is empty.

Alors, tomorrow is the day to do exactly those things I just listed. I shall begin.

P.S. Today has been 4.20, and I didn’t even realize it. It was wonderfully ironic that someone asked me to help with something at the store, and, when I pulled it out of the bag, it wreaked of marijuana. 😛

Post-a-day 2021

Solid words

“It’s just a bad day, not a bad life!”

We all would be wise to remember this, whenever the day turns oh-so-terrible… when life feels terrible, that we have failed at some important part of it all, that we have simply messed it all up somehow…

Every day begins newly within this life, and, as long as we are in this life, we can make it better than it was yesterday. And, no matter how many bad days or hours or events or moments we may have, it is always only that: a bad day or hour or event or moment. They do not define this life, those moments and events and days. Who we are, who we choose to be, how we choose to show up in this life – that is what defines this life. All the rest are just supporting details.

And yes, the details do matter. But they are not the core or definition of it all.

Like we said, when the day goes wrong, “It’s just a bad day, not a bad life!”

Post-a-day 2021

Prayer

Multiple people have told me this weekend that they are praying for me (or, from some, that they are going to start). I am grateful for all of them, for their love, and for their love for me. I think prayer is more valuable than ever it was explained to me – prayer and meditation, in my experience, are a means of consciously reaching ourselves outward into the cosmos, into all Creation, connecting our piece of energy with the abounding energy around us, and sharing an intention, that it might become a common goal amongst the atoms that make up all of this universe. Prayer is power, energy turning kinetic, slowly but surely.

That is, true prayer is such. And everything that is not quite there yet is, hopefully, working its way slowly but surely to that true connection of energy between us and the cosmos, between us and every bit of energy around us, outward and onward forever.

And, I think, that is what love is, too.

Post-a-day 2021

Thank you for saying no

I think I all too often believe that saying, “No,” to something offered me is a bad thing. But that mostly feels to be so from cultural training, so to speak, and not from my own heart, not from within. When I am in touch with myself, with all that is deep inside, that makes me, it is easy to say, “No,” with comfort, ease, and confidence, whenever it is something that does not serve me. It is easy to decline certain foods that are not medicine for my body. It is easy to decline the offers of alcohol, of participation in debauchery, lechery, unkindness, and drama.

And it has become, in recent months and years, much easier to decline even the nice things, the coveted things. They do not serve me, despite their wonder and charm and how much they might serve another. And, if I were to accept them, they would weigh on me negatively, I likely would not enjoy them much, if at all, and a part of me likely would experience some amount of distaste toward myself and disdain toward the giver, whenever I saw the given article going forward in life.

However, if I say, “No,” to the beautiful article that I know will not serve me, it is then possible for that article to move on to find its true home, a place where it will be fully loved and appreciated and used. It can bring joy in the right home. And, if I accept the item, I rob the item of that opportunity to bring someone else joy.

Two nights ago, my mom offered me a spectacular lunar-Gregorian calendar and accompanying journal. They were wonderful, truly.

And I loved seeing that they existed.

And I could tell, after enjoying them for that time of discovery, that they were not destined to be valuable or beloved parts of my daily life.

And, so I asked for whom they could be. Whom did I know who might love and treasure them?

It came to me almost instantly. I asked my mom her thoughts, and she immediately lit up, knowing how beautiful the match was.

I offered the calendar and journal to that person yesterday. She nearly cried at the beauty of how much they aligned with something she has been working on this year and lately especially, and then again when the calendar’s page for now had a photo that aligned with the entire workshop she had just been teaching.

Yes, they had found their home with her.

“Thank you for saying, ‘No’,” she said to me, after I had initially explained the path of the items.

And I knew that it was because I was in touch with myself enough to acknowledge, to accept, and to speak up about how they did not feel to be for me that they did and could find their true home.

And I’m wondering now how much more often I can do that in life… with anything… and with everything…

Post-a-day 2021

Brunch

I had brunch with a girl from my high school today. We weren’t friends in high school, but I had wanted to be. I told her today how she had mostly just seemed so angry in high school, and like she needed (or wanted) space, so I had mostly just let her be. She laughed and smiled a lot at that, but agreed with me, for the most part – she had been frustrated and angry quite a lot back then.

Being with her today, though, I saw clearly what I had glimpsed and guessed at back in school together: fear. I think she might be afraid of her own self, somehow, the same as we all seem to be, at least at some point in life. It just affects us all in different ways, some more different than others. Being with her today, I felt a pull to make it clear to her that she is loved and wanted; she, exactly who and how she is.

I had a wonderful time with her today. As we were leaving – four hours after we’d first arrived – I commented that our combined conversations throughout the four years of high school didn’t amount to as much as we had just talked with one anther. She laughed and agreed fully. They probably didn’t even amount to half the time of today’s brunch conversation.

But we weren’t meant to be friends back then. Perhaps it was merely a means to set a foundation upon which to build a true friendship later in life, now.

I do hope so.

Certainly, we shall see. 🙂

Post-a-day 2021

Just breathe

“I’m proud of you… everything that you do… Remember that.”

As far back as I can remember, it has been a bit difficult for me to be around very old people. If they are old and alone, that hurts me already, but , once they have reached a point that their bodies are beginning to fail them openly, it is as though a switch flips in my mind, and I suddenly struggle to breathe, to function, to focus.

My grandfather is at this point. Actually, he is much beyond it. As we talked today, I had to clear myself continuously in order to remain present with him. I have begun missing him more and more in recent years, as there has been less and less of him to see, with whom to speak and interact. I have seen him grow more and more frustrated with his own brain, his own body as a whole, as he has lost ability after ability… ones which he had is such intense abundance. Indeed, he was one of the smartest and most learned people I have ever known. And he didn’t even attend college. Nonetheless, he was the best resource we had growing up – even better than our teachers on most subjects, and more efficient and detailed in his answers than an encyclopedia. He was one of my greatest inspirations as a child and young adult, and I think so much of me longed to be most like he was. And he always made it so clear that we were loved by him. In almost very action, every phrase or look, every article or comic strip he saved for us or television program or clip he recorded for us, it was clear that he loved us.

He, every so often, would call me “Honah Lee” (from “Puff, the Magic Dragon”), and still does. He’s always played around with pronunciations of words, both of English nature and foreign (e.g. jalapeños with a hard j and firm n). So, it was an easy step to get to calling me Honah Lee. After I had learned German, and we had long since begun to use it with one another (college and onward for me), he called me one day, and said that he wanted to share what he’d figured out so far. He then sang to me “Puff, the Magin Dragon”… in German. He had done his best to translate the lyrics. I think I might actually have cried while he sang to me over the phone. There was just something about it, I was quite overwhelmed with the expression of pure delight and love in that act. Indeed, any time he used German, I always noticed how he sparked to life, as though becoming, just for a few moments or minutes, a young child, excited for the unexpected adventure that life could and would unfold. He hadn’t been allowed to use German in school as a boy – it was forbidden by the school. It was his language of home, fun, love, and self-expression. But he hadn’t used it much beyond his childhood. And, by the time I was born he had almost never used German at all; not until I had begun learning and using it with him. And so, every time we used German together, it was like I got to know him as a child, free from the many pressures and stresses that naturally arise from adulthood, from aging. I just got to be with him. And I reveled in that.

And I still do.

However, talking with him today, discussing how, though he is to turn 91 years old in a few months, he hopes yet is not sure he will make it there, it was somewhat terrifying how easy it was to be with him. He was 100% present as we spoke about that, though is isn’t always these days. He said that he has lived a wonderful life, that he is grateful, and that he is not afraid of dying (despite the fact, as he said, that people say not to say that). I merely nodded, and cried as I said that we very much would miss having him here with us. I held his hand for a bit, and we shared multiple kisses on the cheeks and I love yous and Hab’ dich lieb’s before I had to leave.

And then, just before I had to leave, he said to me, slowly and intentionally, looking me directly in the eyes, – something he has struggled to do lately – “I’m proud of you… everything that you do… Remember that.”

And I will.

And I would not be surprised if today was the last time the two of us see one another in his life. We might see one another again, but it is not very likely. He cannot seem to eat almost anything anymore, and his body is, frankly, falling apart and shutting down on him. A could be causing B, and B could be causing A, but both are contributing to the other, and the result is the same: he does not have much likelihood of living in his physical body on this Earth for much longer.

And it’s terrifying for me.

My paternal grandfather died when I was in middle school. It was expected and not. And it was difficult yet not. The same was true of my paternal grandmother. I was in college when she died, but I was still very much in the child mentality, much more so than the adult mentality. Now, I am very much more on the adult side of life than I am on the child side, and it is an entirely different kind of experience to have this happening now. I suppose that, since my maternal grandparents had survived my childhood, something in me had felt that they would be forever present in this life. They had made it to adulthood with me, so to speak, so they were here to stay.

But they aren’t. No one is, really. But they are more obviously likely not to be here for that much longer. A small part of me had felt disappointed in myself for not providing them with what feels like would have been some of the greatest gifts I could have given them. I do not have a stable career. I do not have a partner in life. I have no children. I don’t even have a pet. I know they do not need those things for me. But that is why they would be gifts.

However, when Opa said that to me today, that he is proud of me… of everything I do…, it reminded me of why those other things have always seemed to matter. They are most often expression of success in living one’s life fully. At least, they are mostly seen that way. But, when the ultimate goal is that we live life fully… that we be true to ourselves and fully self-expressed…, I cannot say that I have failed my grandparents or that I have let them down. Indeed, I have fulfilled every wish they could have for me in relation to success in my life. All the other stuff – the marriage, the children, the house, the career – are tiny details by comparison.

I do not say this lightly nor boastingly when I say that I am one of the most loving people I know. I do not do well with keeping people at the standard ‘comfortable distance’ in life. I do not chat about the weather easily. Either I do not know you at all, or I want to know you, embrace you fully. Like Ender Wiggin said, the moment I get to know you, I get to love you. And I love loving people. It is terribly difficult and stressful for me to ‘try to get to know someone’. Just be yourself with me, let go of whatever you are hiding, let me see you, be with you…. let me love you. That’s all I want from the people around me. And that’s how I want them to see me, too – see all of me now, so that you can love me for me. Let us not waste time on pleasantries and weather. Let us dive right in, and have an absolute blast together. Indeed, that is exactly why dating is so difficult for me, why I cannot seem to ‘figure out’ how to interact with this guy with whom I went on a date recently. I don’t do surface level. I do the real you, the real me. And when people avoid that, turn or step away from it, usually in fear, it is so hard for me… it only makes me want to come even closer, that I might love you even deeper. And though this might sound like I am socially awkward, I truly am not. I can be quite quiet in certain circumstances, but I probably am the only person at the party who will know everyone else by the end of it.

And I am grateful for that. So much of who I am is love. And I have no idea what comes next for me in life. (Like… genuinely, I have no idea… please, grasp that for a moment…) But I know exactly who I am stepping forward into that unknown. And I love her and I am grateful every moment for her and for all that she is and for all that she is not. And I learned today that, more than I ever saw, my Opa feels the same way about her. He knows I’m not married, not settled in any way, not career-stable or financially stable. But he knows that I am stable, and that I am ready for whatever is through that next threshold as I step forward into it. And he is proud of that, and all that it involves. He is proud of me, of who I am, of all that he knows I will create out of who I am in this life, even though he will not be here in person to see most of it with me.

I pray only that his love, his support, his guidance help me to move forward confidently and comfortably throughout the rest of my life. I am grateful for him always. And I love him dearly, deeply, truly. Thank you, God, for allowing us the opportunity to spend so much wonderful time together in this life.

In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Danke, Gott.

Post-a-day 2021

P.S. Frohe Ostern, folks!! Happy Easter, allen!! (Not to deny the weight of all of that ^, but it was because of Easter that I was able to spend the time with my Opa today at all. And I am grateful for that. And the Easter Egg Hunt in which I got to partake. Today really was a great day, filled with silliness and love and fun. But it also was very real one, in which, I believe, God was helping me to prepare for part of what comes next.)

Body Image

I intentionally look at myself in the mirror, nude – or almost entirely – every single day.  I look and I see all that there is to my body.  I fill myself with the experience of all that my body is, standing before that mirror.  And I love myself.  Through and through, from the tiniest hair to the German skin to the inherited bowels that are all too sensitive – I love my body for all that it is and for all that it is not.  This is my vessel, my space, my temple, my power, my source in this life.  And I am ever grateful for and in love with it.

That does not mean that I do not want to improve upon it.  One can love something and still want better for it.  Indeed, I believe part of loving something means always wanting better for it.  Such is the case with my body.  Every day, as I see the improvements from only a week ago or days ago, I am grateful that I have blessed it with such love… such love as it takes to get out of bed when I want to snuggle in deeper to the cozy covers, to get myself ready for bed early enough to have enough sleep, to choose these foods over those, to deny the casual pressure of those who do not have the same intentions with their food and drink and schedule, not to take the easy route, and just to accept the current and temporary convenience of eating this standard meal that I find before me, possibly even for free.

They mean no harm to me, I am sure, but such a meal is not free for me.  It has its costs.  Yes, it is utterly convenient, and significantly less socially odd and, sometimes, less embarrassing.  But, it is not blessing my body when I consume it.  Often, it causes my body actual pain, in some small way or other.  And, occasionally, it causes pain in some not-so-small ways… things I never noticed until I began to pay close attention.  I always thought eating meant one would feel ever so slightly ill afterward.  But that is only with certain foods, with the ones that do not serve my body, that I feel that way.  I have learned.

My food is my medicine – I take no other – and it is my daily blessing that gives me the energy for tomorrow.  It gives me my strength to exercise at 5:15 most mornings, as though it were a normal hour of the day.  It gives me the nutrition I need for my deep slumbers at night to restore and improve my strength and energy.

And it is not always easy.  Indeed, it often is difficult to manage getting myself the food I need, whenever I am doing things away from home, with others or alone.  Even at home, it takes effort.  And yet, after all this time, the effort seems like almost nothing.  Why?  Because it is so incredibly worth it.  I don’t even have to think about giving myself the right foods to serve me best, let alone thinking twice about it.  All because I love and want to take loving care of my body.

My body is merely the starting place.  If I am comfortable in my body, and it is ready and able for anything, then my spirit, too, with my body’s support, can take on whatever comes my way, and with a ready heart.  So, as I gaze at myself in the mirror each day, easily noticing the room for improvement, I also marvel at the beauty of all that I am, of all that I have become, and of all that I see I can become… all because I love myself for exactly who and how I am. I once was afraid to see myself naked – I couldn’t stand it.  Now, I look forward to that time of intimacy and being attuned to and connected in all ways with my physical self.  It is one of the most beloved times of my day, and it fills me always with love, joy, and gratitude for this life and for this current step within it.

Post-a-day 2021

Feel the burn

Today, I got to spend some in-person one-on-one time with a dear friend of mine.  She and I have not spoken much lately, because, whenever we do talk, it usually lasts a couple hours or more, and I tend to think of calling her when it is a little too close to bedtime for such a long call.  And our schedules have been kind of opposite – I go to bed early, and she late – which hasn’t helped her be able to reach me either.  We just both accepted that we were in a bit of a scheduling break (break due to scheduling, that is).  

We used to spend at least one evening a week together, spending quality in-person time with one another and a few other good friends.  Then, we actually lived together.  And then I moved away, then back… the latter of which happened right before she moved away.  (Not too far, but far enough that even weekly hangouts were out of the question.  So, instead, we talk on the phone a lot, which is actually quite nice.

Anyway, today, we spent time together in person.  And it was amazing.

The other day, I had almost cried when someone held my hand – it was a surprise for me to have such a reaction, but it was an important but near-forgotten sensation from what feels like oh-so-long-ago.  I was nearly overwhelmed by the feeling, by the comforting warmth and pressure in just the right place.  Just as our hands were growing slightly damp in the middle, and my insides were breathing with pure comfort and delight at this specific, if odd, comfort from so many moments in my life, he dropped my hand.  Naturally, I went a bit crazy in my mind about the possibilities as to why he did that.  And I don’t just mean then. I mean mostly afterward, and borderline obsessively.  (Fortunately, I can acknowledge when it has been enough, and I can just let it all go, but I certainly allow myself to delve, if only for a short time.)  From a logic standpoint, it was likely due to the sweat that he dropped my hand, although it was because of the sweat that I was so filled.  

Nonetheless, as I considered this over the next couple days, I began to see how much I had not seen regarding my need for physical comfort.  My brain, body, and psyche need physical contact to survive, not just to thrive.  And I have been getting by on the absolute bare minimum lately, and so certainly not thriving.  Life has been just that much harder because of it.

And so, this evening, as that all was not news to this friend, I was given a good, solid rub-down.  Her strong, firm, warm hands placed intentional, loving pressure on my back, both massaging my muscles and giving me comfort.  Then she purposefully rubbed all along my arms and each finger, my neck and shoulders, and each leg.  I asked her to treat me like a dog, and give me a rub-down, and she did.  And it was extremely comforting at the time.  Then, further along in our hanging out together, rather than just giving hug after hug at things, we just sat together in an embrace, I somewhat in her lap, arms around her waist.  Her strong arms held me tight around my shoulders and back, as my head pressed against her upper chest, and she rested her chin atop my head.

When she had first arrived, there was no doubt in either of our minds that I was struggling.  I have a lot of things causing stress in my daily life at the moment – a lot.  And those things have begun taking a greater hold of my attention each day, as their volume and significance have increased.  Now, about to go to sleep, I don’t necessarily notice feeling any specific way, but that I notice a lack of something.  There is something gone that was previously here, weighing me down.  I am not tense and stress-y, clenching somehow with my whole being.  I am comfortably standing, wide-legged, shoulders totally chill and relaxed, breathing very calm and easy, all without effort.  Now, I am merely getting ready for bed.  I see those things that have been stressing me, but they are just something I see – they are not taking me over anymore.  I am breathing easily, without restriction or strain (that, though I could push through them, they certainly were there before).

And I can breathe, simply because my body can handle it all again.  My skin and muscles and hair follicles were rejuvenated by her hands and arms, and they are all breathing freely once again.  All because I got a rub-down.

It may sound silly, but there’s a reason that has become an actual job in some countries – people need it.  Remember, babies die without physical contact.  It’s a wonder we haven’t come up with something for this for people sooner, I suppose.

Man…

Post-a-day 2021

^Meh… got it, but had to consider

Tomorrow is…

Monday!

(!!!!!!!!!!)

And I can hardly wait.

(!!!!)

That being said, I also got clear tonight that this could also just be an opportunity for me to be able to date, for me to learn how not to let fear stop me from being myself in such a relationship opportunity. Also, it could just be giving me a friend. And it could be giving me one of those friends I’ve secretly wanted for so long, where we get to be completely loving as friends, and we have a history of dating and being loving in a different way.

It doesn’t have to be it or disaster. And I think this person is very likely to be wonderful, no matter the circumstances.

Though I still find it difficult not to begin down that ever-deepening swirl of my not being good enough and therefore being rejected by someone I like, I am doing better than ever at catching myself at the edge, well before falling (or diving) into it, and turning myself upward and outward to the light of my inner soul and who I truly am.

I am wonderful, and wonderfully amazing, too. I deserve immense and intense love, just as I give it. I am made for it, I do believe.

That being said, I am still very excited about tomorrow’s being Monday, at last. 😉

Post-a-day 2021

^I still keep wanting to put 2020