Thinking and Feeling (and Crying)

The other day this brought me to tears a bit. I'm not sure what exactly it was about it that broke through all my carefully constructed walls. Maybe it was just a chance of timing, maybe I was ready to start crying, maybe I was too tired to not cry anymore, maybe it was the sheer selflessness of it, the beauty and the work that had to go into each project. The anonymity of it is something I recognize too. Sometimes you just want to make something pretty for people who will appreciate it, people who need it, and you just want to get out of the way so they can just appreciate the gift without having to appreciate you too. Sometimes its about the work more than its about the ego.

The leak that those sculptures sprung in me has been dripping for days now. I seem to be ready to weep at every bit of art I see, every tune I hear, every poem I read, every bit of fiction I read, every tv show I see. Truly it seems if someone created it, took it from Idea to reality for the sheer joy of making something that way, it has brought me to tears.

I have been trying to plug that hole with proper posture and some really good, smart hip hop. Even though hip hop is creative and (at least doomtree) seems to be made from a place of love, a place of "I can't help it, I have to make this". It somehow occupies my mind in a way that doesn't leave me weak. I am no less impressed by it than I am by the book sculptures, but it seems to strengthen me, rather than weaken me. It reinforces the idea that I am able to face anything with grace and poise, that I don't have to backdown to see the beauty in things.

I think the creative part of me is trying not to be quelled by the analytical part of me which is taking center stage as I get back into school. Doomtree (and other hip hop artists like them) are a good balance of the two, they seem to make being analytic creative and beautiful.

A Sudden Forest

For the first time in 13 years of therapy I got half way through my appointment and had nothing to talk about! No issues on the horizon, no big stressful situations, no big emotional breakthroughs, nothing. So my therapist pulled out a chart that I have seen before. On one axis there is time/recovery and on the other axis there is symptom use. At the beginning of the chart you see symptom use rise and then plateau, (there is a section at the beginning of the plateau marked "denial"). After the plateau there is a drop in symptom use, but its not a smooth decline, there are plenty of ups and downs of varying degrees, eventually the symptom use line goes back to zero and a little further down the chart there is a point labeled "Recovery" and a little further down the chart there is a point marked "able to discontinue therapy". Today I got to do something I never thought I would be able to do. When my therapist asked me where I thought I was on the chart I got to point to the word Recovery. This is not to say that I never have eating disordered thoughts, but I am finally to the point where those thoughts look genuinely ridiculous to me.

I thought maybe recovery would feel like arriving somewhere. But it doesn't. I kind of feel like i am suddenly realizing i am in the heart of the forest. I was certainly aware that i was heading into a forest, i could see it off on the horizon and as i got closer the trees got thicker, but now i am suddenly actually in the forest. Like the forest caught up to me when I wasn't paying attention. But the forest wasn't my destination, and recovery isn't my final destination either. Now that I am here, I can go on to all the other things I want to do.

This Pot of Gold is Disappointing

I've got nothing going on and its kind of freaking me out. I don't remember the last time my life was so calm and so boring. I suppose it might have been this way last summer, but I don't remember. I suppose thats the thing about times like this, they aren't very memorable.

Since September I have been dealing with one thing or another pretty much continuously. And now, for the first time, I find myself without an illness of some kind, no job and not much homework (I'm still working on my incomplete from Spring semester).

I thought this was what I was waiting for. But I suppose free time is a little bit like chasing the gold at the end of a rainbow, its hard to find, and when you get there it doesn't look anything like you thought it would. I thought I would get to knit whatever I wanted (including finishing up the afghan for my aunt), but I find myself with an injured wrist, so thats not happening. I thought I would get a chance to play all those hours of video games I had been putting off while I was in school, but now that it comes down to it, it seems I can't be bothered. I thought I would finally get to read something for fun, so I started The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but I'm having a hard time seeing what all the fuss was about. I'm half way through and not all that invested. I thought I would be making a skirt a day now that I have the time, but I haven't touched my sewing machine yet.

I guess my point is, because there is nothing going on in my life, there isn't much to write about, and I am giving myself over to it. So if things seem a little quiet from my corner, don't worry, I'm just relaxing.

All This Stuff

Hello world of Blog. Its Sunday night and I find myself dealing with an unwanted guest. Edie has decided that she needs to step into my life today, which has of course left me wondering what I was doing so wrong that she felt the need to pop up and help me out. This is what I have come up with:

It would be lovely if it were a simple solution like "i did this thing today" or "tomorrow i have to do that thing" but in reality I think it started a while ago. If I'm honest with myself (and I like to think I am) I think it started a few weeks ago. Not that Edie has been here that long, just that that is when things started building up, laying the ground work for her appearance. Its not even that anything major happened a few weeks ago. Just that my May term class was ending, and I was coming home again after a few weeks of staying at Crickhollow while work was done on my house. The May term class was a little more stressful than I had anticipated, or maybe it was just as stressful as I had anticipated but I wasn't as strong as I had hoped. I'm really not sure. Either way, it was taxing.

I was really hoping my May term class would end when the class ended. Instead I am STILL working on my final project for that class. And on top of that I have started meeting with my phonology professor to work on finishing the Incomplete I took this spring. Turns out I still hate phonology. Even when I understand it, even when it makes sense to me, I hate it. Even just looking at the data for a problem-set kicks my anxiety into gear. When I walk away from it, even when I have solved a problem well, I feel dragged out, worn out, empty and sad. Even just writing about it bums me out. I know there is a point to it. I know there are people who put this study to good use. I, however, don't give a shit. I think this is what bums me out, that I have to do it even though it means nothing to me. I have to put a lot of mental energy into it, and I don't get anything back, not even the satisfaction of solving a puzzle.

On with the list: My mother. It seems she is always on the list of reasons Edie pops up, this time is no exception. I made a skirt, a beautiful skirt that I am very proud of, and I emailed my mum about it because she is the one who taught me to sew and our shared love of all things crafty and hand made is one of the last things we have in common. And, since I am being totally honest: I wanted her to be proud of me. I probably wanted her to see that I don't need her, I wanted to show her the personal touch I had put on the skill she had given me. I wanted to show her myself through a lens she could understand, since I can't show her much of myself anymore. I didn't hear from her for a while. I was starting to wonder if she was mad at me for the beautiful thing I had made, if she was jealous, or somehow else crying about it. (I know it sounds crazy, it is, she is) Finally she got back to me, she left me a voicemail saying she couldn't open the photos I had sent her on her phone, that she had been visiting my grandparents and that my grandma had had some kind of medical emergency the night before. She didn't elaborate, didn't bother to give me anymore details than that, and admonished me for not visiting them enough. So instead of the pride and praise I had been looking for, I got guilt and worry. Awesome. (the lesson here is don't do things because you want a particular response, don't expect much from people, especially the crazy ones)

Next up: the renovations. I hate renovations. I stayed at Crickhollow for a few weeks, which was alright, I love the Crick very much. But its not mine. I don't live there. I was/am so glad to be back to my bed and my room and my cat and my stuff. I'm so glad to be here in fact that even when I knew there was going to be some potentially noisy stuff going on in the morning I opted to tough it out. But if I had known there would actually be more loud mornings than not I would have grudgingly packed up my shit again and headed back to St. Paul. I did not know this though, so I was left with a few good nights sleep, and mostly a bunch of shitty nights sleep. I don't do well without sleep.

So I'm back to Crick for a few days starting tomorrow, and then my aunt and uncle are in town, I adore them, but it means another week of not sleeping in my bed, also a week of being social. I'm really tired of being social. I feel like I haven't had a moment to myself for weeks. Which is sort of true, but partly just because a lot of the time I do have to myself is full of school and other shit I don't want to have floating around my head. What I really want is a goddamned summer vacation! I want some time to lay around and play videogames and knit whatever the hell I want and design and make skirts and read all the books I haven't had time for.

So all of those things combined make a sort of perfect storm for Edie to step in. I'm feeling boxed in and like I need to rebel somehow, so here she comes, giving me a way to rebel, to express myself and my frustrations. The trouble is, I'm the only one who gets hurt by this rebellion. She wants me to slow down, she wants me to take some time for myself. She wants me to stick to my guns and tell people I don't want to do things when I don't want to do them. She wants me to ask for what I need. And she is right. Which is why I am at home writing this tonight rather than out at a movie with a friend of mine like I had planned. But there are some things that I can't have, even if I ask for them. For example, I can't not finish phonology. I can't make the carpet guys come at 4:30pm and work until midnight or however long it takes them to finish. There are always going to be things I don't want to do, but have to do anyway. Edie and I need to work out some kind of plan for when this is the case. Not to worry, I'm back at the Emily Program again after a month long break. I'm so glad to be back I can barely stand it. And it looks like its just in the nick of time too!

If I won the lottery tomorrow.

If I won the lottery tomorrow, you know what I would do? Well first I would listen to the old This American Life podcast on what to do when you win the lottery, THEN I would buy the property next to the one I live on now, I would build myself a small, sturdy and loving house. It would have a lovely deep warm bathtub (and a really big efficient water heater, a room just for making art of all kinds, a beautiful kitchen of just the right size and shape, a dining room, an office, two bedrooms and a library. I would find some way to have a sound system that ran through the entire house that could hook up to my iTunes, and could also be accessed remotely, so no matter what room I was in I could change the song and volume. It would have all kinds of cool architectural features in it. There would definitely be some nooks and at least one secret passageway. I don't need a lot of space, but I want the space I do have to be interesting, comfortable and useful.

Once my land was paid for and my house was designed and built, I would put a new bathroom in my parents house, they deserve better than what they have now. I would then buy myself a smart phone, because really, its time for me to catch up with the rest of society. I would also buy myself every available season of Community, and Oceans 11 and Amelie. I would probably buy myself a kindle too, which is not to say I would give up on books. I just want to be able to bring a million books with me wherever I go without having to actually drag a suitcase with me.

When I was done buying myself all these little toys I would settle into my new house and start taking one or two classes at a time, rather than a full 14 credits every semester. That way I would stand a chance at actually enjoying school and retaining more of the information I learn. While I was relaxing my way through school I would make skirts and knit a million things, write lots of letters, make some books and cards and generally spend my time being creative.

I'm sure somewhere along the line I would hire a fabulous accountant/financial advisor, who would find ways for me to invest some of my money so I could live off of it for a long time. I'm also sure some would go into some savings account somewhere. If I were really really rich, I would pay off the debt of the Hindu Temple in town and I would donate a ton of money to the Emily Program Foundation.

This daydream might be a little selfish, but I think selfishness is safe in a daydream, don't you? Isn't that what daydreams are for?

Just Show Up

I went to temple the other day (I like temple, its peaceful there, especially with little kids running around or even with little kids crying). Anyway, the first Saturday of every month there is a Abhisheka for Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge, (she also is given credit for language and music, so obviously she is one of my favorites). I like to go to the ceremonies for her, because I love her. but I don't really understand what is going on, or what is being said, the chants and prayers are all in sanskrit. As I was sitting the other day with a hand ful of other devotees I had a moment when I wondered what I was doing. What good it was doing me or Saraswati for me to be there but not understand what was going on. I didn't come up with any answer better than "to show willing". That sometimes you have to give, even when you don't understand the gift you are giving or why the receiver wants/needs it. Sometimes its enough just to show up.

I was reminded of this again while reading the Jay Z biography for class. There is a section about obama and the inauguration. Anytime anyone talks about that campaign I get a little choked up. It was just so hopeful and felt so true and genuine, it felt like the way politics are supposed to be. Anyway, there is a photo in the book of the inauguration crowd stretching back for miles, packed in tight. It made me cry (of course) but it also reminded me of my time at temple. There is no way those people could see Obama, they were essentially watching it on television sets, outside, in the cold. But it was important that they be there, they weren't there for themselves, necessarily (although I'm sure there is something to be said for being able to say you were there), but to bear witness. To show willing, to show that it was important, that he was important, that they all believed in the cause enough to show up. Because sometimes thats the important part, just showing up.

Please Don't Take this Away From Me, But Help Me See It From A New Perspective

I miss my meteorology class. I miss my classmates, I miss my professors, I miss my TA, I miss the subject matter. I miss having people to talk to, people I looked forward to seeing, people who cared what I had to say. I miss hearing about, and caring about their lives. I miss the way I learned in that class. I miss the way I could learn something inside and out, I miss how concrete it was. I miss knowing facts. I miss the lack of opinion. I miss the way everything I learned was directly relevant to my life, no matter where in the word I was or will be. I miss talking about the weather. I miss the way I knew for sure what I was talking about, I miss feeling smart. and not smart like "I'm smarter than you are", but like "hey look, my brain must work because I didn't understand this before and now I do."

This class I'm in now is the exact opposite of my meteorology class. Where I thought I would love this class because its about something I find interesting (poetry and hip hop), I am hating it. Where I thought I would hate my meteorology class because it was about something I thought I wasn't interested in (hard science), I loved it. Where I forged unexpected connections with my classmates and professors in my meteorology class, I am left stranded and alone in this poetry class.

I thought this class would be an opportunity to learn more about myself and language and poetry and society and culture. But what I'm finding is that I'm not learning much of anything. It is confirming some of what I already thought, but not telling me why I was right or wrong. All in all its making me resentful. I resent the teacher for not having anything more interesting to show me, for not digging deeper, for not having a deeper overarching theme to the class. I don't think he's lazy, but somehow the topic seems played out already, and there are no signs of us digging any deeper into it. I resent my fellow classmates for not holding up their part of the discussion. I resent them for not looking deeper, for not being open to new ways to look at the same old thing. I resent them for not speaking up, not telling me what they think about it. I resent both their ignorance, and their arrogance, as both are holding me back from exploring the matter at hand.

I'm not trying to say I am a model student and that everyone should do as I do. But the way it stands now, I feel like I could be teaching myself everything I have learned so far. Somehow rather than having discussions in class, I feel like everyone is just trying to get their opinion heard, they just want to convince everyone else that the way they see it is the best way to see it. And my god that is boring, because at that point, its becomes less about what they are actually saying and the fact that THEY are the ones saying it. It becomes more about them than about the ideas they are trying to share, which means if you try to engage them in debate about it, they argue, rather than discuss. Rather than trying to explain, they try to tell. Everyone makes things so personal, but instead of bringing us closer together, it is driving us all apart, like magnetic fields, like everyone has to defend their individuality, like shifting your opinion would somehow make you weak.

The worst part about this class, is the way it makes me feel about myself when I'm there: "If these people aren't able to accept themselves, they probably won't be able to accept me, so I had better keep my mouth shut and my head down." Thats no way to learn.

So I guess the only thing to do is shift what I am trying to learn. Instead of trying to learn something new about the connection of hip hop and poetry I am going to try to learn how to navigate this minefield of egos and stay true to myself. I am going to learn how to sit in class for 4 hours every day for a few weeks. I am going to learn how to listen to and talk to people who are not that interested in what I have to say. I'm going to learn how to be in a very draining social situation and not get completely worn out by it. I'm going to learn to leave what I don't need behind, and take only what I do need.