intrepid

is perhaps my favorite word. far, far from me now, but still. i like to believe i am an intrepid soul. when i say the honest thing, not the politically correct thing, i don't do it for any reason other than it is the truth. this does not always serve me well, and frankly, i'm tired of being told to be nice. nice does nothing for me, never has, never will. perhaps i need to learn to be political, but why? for what reason, what purpose does it serve? there are politically inclined people in my life. we don't talk politics. it has nothing to do with me. i am told i am a dullard for this. to which i reply,

i'm a specialist. there is much a specialist loses for the sake of their specialty. when i'm around those interested in my specialty, i'm quite well heard. well thought of even.

or maybe i'm deluded. maybe selling out is the only way.

but it can't be. i refuse to give anyone power over my life. i refuse to.

but right now, i'm trembling.

thinking back to something i saw that exemplifies this situation.

a four year old mustang was just acquired by a rather famous horse trainer. that mustang's whole way of survival is to be afraid. be very afraid. ask questions later kind of fear.

when that horse fell into this trainer's hands, he was suddenly in a tribe of creatures and people. the trainer's two dogs raced laps around the horse as he cantered around the arena. it was as if they were dancing, the steps of the hooves and the paws came so close in time.

the trainer dismounts center arena, and the mustang is made to lay down. he does. the dogs approach, and the horse startles mildly, but the trainer is right there. the trainer reassures the horse and the dogs come over, eventually getting close enough to stand on the horse's belly while he lay there on his side completely vulnerable.

the trainer said,

these are predators. this is prey. the only reason this horse is allowing this is because he trusts me.

it occurred to me then that i have never known this kind of trust. i have never been able to allow myself to fall into someone's hands without the worst kind of madness ensuing.

and so, i stay apart. away, fearful. until i can build up enough courage to ask the hard questions and face my fears.

it occurred to me that i need to be my own handler. to protect myself this way. but how? that is always the question.

it has started by drawing lines relationally. by erecting boundaries where they have fallen.

yet it feels so vulnerable, here alone, accountable for and to myself.

there is freedom in it, yes. but there is a whole world of responsibility i have to face, alone.

i am equal to the task. it's just sometimes the irrational fear, the besetting fears won't stop clamoring for attention. and i must tend to them. i must make them go away, but looking them directly in the eye. and trusting myself to know the path i need to take, though the way seems blocked.

it is not blocked. guides come along.

and i want to believe i'm still good at trusting the right people.

but i won't hesitate to admit i've gone wrong, and readjust.

sometimes these things happen. people are unpredictable. and i want only freedom for those around me as well as myself. to be accepted with the unconditional love i freely give. that is my only request. don't cage me. don't climb in and cage yourself. because breaking cages open is tough work. and painful.

changing cadence

my life has certainly fallen into a different cadence than before. lots more to do. trying to remain present to it all, though, i admit, sometimes i'm just a body in the room. mostly, this happens at work. i don't mind it happening there. work is mindless tedium. nothing soul stirring. sadly. but that is only a temporary condition while i work my way out of my old life and into the new. i'm molting, i guess. and there is some kind of deadness that needs to fall away.

the mayor's office was eluding me, but i'm persistent and finally have contact names and numbers i need to proceed. plan b, was to take effect tomorrow, wherein i go park myself in their office and don't leave until they assist me. i'm glad it didn't come to that. much can be handled today from my warm, toasty bed. since my play date got cancelled (adults need to play too, come on), i have much found time. though i admit, most of it i will prostrate lie.

i have to book the park, arrange for the museum exhibit, begin finding and completing forms and otherwise mastermind this entire literacy program or it ain't happening. funny, the things i get myself into. i realized how i didn't even plan my wedding well (not that this is going to be as shoddy an affair as that), it makes me laugh. that i, who arguably don't give a shit about planning have landed a job where i am the sole planner. fanfuckingtastick.

so, i will make it what i think it needs to be, not what i don't care if it is or not. does that make sense? i have a vision in my mind, some place i'm headed, if you will. surely, i can take us there, if anyone can.

i sat in the principal's office with a member of my team, and a major player for this event and had to convince them of my vision. in so doing, i secured the major points of our grant are covered.

oh, that reminds me of things i need to do in prep for tomorrow's meeting. that's the good thing about having a moment to clear my head. stuff i need tumbles out.

i did get my latest packet in to my mentor on time. (late by my day early standard, but on time enough for the program). and that is a relief. this packet had only a three week spread and i managed four books, ten poems, and one critical paper. not too bad. next packet i have the typical four week spread, which will be helpful.

i'm reading a lot of exciting works, history of the samurai, kali, things like that. source material it's called. because the works i'm writing creatively have to have that distinction between what i'm saying and what has been said. i must know. i'm convinced of this. i find both of these topics profoundly interesting and just started a samurai sword handbook. together with a book recommended by my prof, who, btw, completely gets me. go figure. i never expected that.

again, when i give myself over to it, it gets easier, even joyful somehow. it's the struggling against it that prolongs the agony. of course i know this in my head, but trying to get my heart to cooperate is like trying to walk a bunny. a most uncooperative walking pet. they are more of the darting under the bush variety.

that's it. my life is changing and i'm grateful.
so i never get here because i'm so busy.
that's the good news.

sleep baby, sleep.

i'm not sure what to say. why i haven't written. not like it matters, this. but yet it does. i've been more busy than ever before and i'm just tired. as i sat weeping at my friend's house wondering if i could do it all, she said,

you are doing it all.

which was scant comfort.

i have fewer hours next week, which is good.

a paper due monday, which is why i'm here. this is my process. come, purge. write.

i have had serious doubts about the things i'm writing, largely because they are so close to the bone. everything is so honest. even more than before. now, it feels vulnerable. that's the difference, i think, my mind knows it is, everything feels it is, and well, i'm just too tired.

so i'm encouraged to go for it. to spare no detail. to write whatever i want. and blow my prof away. which i will attempt to do. which i will do, muse willing. (i like that phrase, i just stumbled upon it)

but i'm tired now. and need to pursue my writing another way, the indirect way.

everything else for my packet is done, just this six page critical paper. that is always the way it is with me.

now to bed.

zoned

i want to get out today, to see beauty. to visit some old friends. to just be. i couldn't sleep last night, until i finally passed out around 2am. i've opened mostly this week, and a close at the end of it just sucks.

can't decide what would be better, vegging. which i love to do. or getting my ass out of bed and visiting friends.

methinks. get up.