Hanging In There

August 21, 2014 at 1:42 pm (Disability, Living, Living With Chronic Illness, Mental Health, Spiritual) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

If you’ve ever had any kind of conversation with me, regardless of the medium, there is an incredibly high probability that when you’ve asked some version of “How are you doing?” I have responded with my fallback, favorite, non-pessimistic, doesn’t-drag-you-into-a-conversation-you-didn’t-want-to-have response:

“I’m hanging in there.”

Those who get to know me more intimately hear that phrase so often it begins to lack meaning. Or they’ll see a twinge, a wink, a deep exhalation; something to cue the listener to the “where” I might be “hanging in”.

I learned at a party four years ago that “How are you, really?”, can easily be mistaken for “I know you had a medical ‘thing’ recently; please tell me how miraculous your healing has been so I can feel good about the world.” I know some people actually mean “I read your blog and I have a general sense of the technical side of what’s not working for you; we’d just like some secret stuff not shared on the blog and I know some pretty awesome doctors who treat Ginger Cancer*.” But once the gathering gets past the awkward social niceties, no one is sure what the next step should be. (If you’re roleplaying 1950, I believe it is to take his hat and coat and usher him into the downstairs sitting/crochet/wielding/welding/spelling correction room while asking him about coffee preferences.)

Sometimes people really do want to know how I’m feeling, generally or right in the moment. Maybe they read this blog and want to hear some of the wacky stories straight from my mouth, or they want to ask questions about things I’ve written.

And sometimes people are super grateful when I answer with something so non-committal, so they can skip past the whole ‘Del’s life is hard’ part and get straight to the “Do you want to go catch frogs with me?” mode. Or just about any other question or conversation or activity.

People are correct that when I go to a party or fun gatherings or even just have you over for hangouts, that I am both of the following at the same time:

  • Totally willing to answer any questions or share any details about my medical journey. Remember, that’s what Baphomet said in the beginning of all this, was to share my experiences as far and wide as I can.
  • Sick and fucking tired of every conversation I have with any human being on the planet is somehow related to me being sick, disabled, or in pain. I want to pretend for an hour or three that I’m just an average ordinary Joe doing ordinary Joe things like going to the movies or setting my friends on fire. Y’know, stuff that just happens every day.

I have been getting MUCH better at setting and supporting boundaries around these things, including being totally willing to withdraw into my bedroom if we are hanging out and I’m starting to feel weak, tired, in pain, etc. I warn people before they visit that it will happen, and sometimes it happens for the majority of a visit, and sometimes it was just during the most critical moments of why they came to see me. But there’s nothing I can do about that, so I accept it and move on.

Too Intimidating?

Another social thing I’ve been trying to figure out lately is that many people think of me as being intimidating. I think the first time someone brought this to my attention was a wonderfully powerful and bodily petite Priestess. We had been to a lot of the same events and such, and when necessary we’ve have fun and interesting but politely distant social contact. I couldn’t really tell if she liked me as a person, or if she was being respectful of my experience while secretly disagreeing with any one of my many unusual beliefs or practices, or if she just thought I smelled funny.

Anyway, said Priestess comes striding into my cabin during a camping event, and sits on the edge of my bed. “Del,” I paraphrased, “I am done being intimidated by you.

This is the sort of thing I hear a lot. People saying that they read something I wrote or went to one of my classes or saw me at a party but couldn’t approach because I am intimidating. It baffles me, as I try to be open and warm and friendly, even though I am introverted down to the remnants of my toenails. But it’s a perception, and all I can do to change perception to be reliably un-intimidating (whatever that looks like).

I mean, it’s nothing like what you’re going through…

People are sometimes afraid to talk to me, especially about wellness-related issues, because they’re afraid that being worried/upset/tired/challenged with their health situation when compared to whatever they perceive I’m going through.

What you don’t see is how that reflects on me. Here are some of the things I hear between the lines when people say things like this:

  • You’re so much sicker/weaker/poorer off than I, so much so it’s only okay to talk about your struggles all the time.
  • You’re never going to take my struggles seriously because yours are so much bigger and more threatening than mine,
  • You are so, so ill that even a simple conversation causes you pain, so instead I will only engage in flighty small talk with you.

I’m sure you get my drift.

Now, this is not an invitation to grill me further the next time I tell you I’m “hanging in there”. Sometimes I really do need a little pushing to open up about things, partially because I find myself telling the same stories over and over again (Baphomet sorta promised me this blog would stop that from happening), and partially because I don’t want to waste the 20 minutes of face time I’m going to get with you at the party/gathering/concert/event to be all about my blood sugar numbers and my O2 sats.
I also have a hard time telling who really wants to hear every single detail about what tests I’ve had and what they’ve shown and who all the “charming players” there are (I not-so-secretly nickname most of my doctors and nurses, especially if there are ones that stand out screaming for one. This trip to JH has given us several – Nurses Anxious, Snake, and Afro; Doctors Bopper, Blondie, and Randomly In Charge; even techs like Pocket Fairy and New Best Friend. In fact, I’ve been asked to come up with a new cast of characters and why they got the nicknames they did, so I’m going to end this post a little prematurely so I can take a break and then tackle that. The next post will also likely have much bigger updates as to what’s going on and why I’m not discharged yet…

….and I just may have found my Zebra hunters. Oh yes, another nickname. The “Zebra” thing comes from an old medical school saying – “When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.”

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Contemplation and Dedication

December 30, 2013 at 2:18 am (Chronic Pain, Living, Living With Chronic Illness, Mental Health, Spiritual, The Panniculectomy, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Today will be a year and a day since my ordeal. It has been a very difficult, draining, painful year. I have suffered so many different kinds of loss that I don’t know if I can cleanly separate one from another. They have come at me from every direction, from places I would have never suspected, and in ways that only made any sort of sense in retrospect. I spent a lot of time mourning. This should have surprised me a lot less than it did, having struck a complex and winding deal with Death herself, but I’m still a Fool who bumbles forward ignoring all the big “Dead End” signs along the way.

And then, a few days ago, a very small light was lit. I spoke to Hel directly, and the best way to describe what happened would be that I got my “annual review”. We spoke about times when I truly contemplated in the way She had asked, and times when I did everything I could to avoid said contemplation. She showed me in that transpersonal yet compassionate way how each distraction from my Purpose had been removed. It sometimes felt like a student of meditation getting wacked on the knuckles every time they were obviously not focusing. But I learn the best lessons through pain, both emotional and physical, so it’s not like She was speaking a foreign language.

After we went through the Year of Contemplation, I asked if my failures and misdeeds meant that I had to Contemplate for another year again. “Oh no”, She replies with a slightly amused grin, “It’s not like when a new lesson begins, the old ones end. It just means you are building upon the foundation, and contemplation was the first layer.” Oh yippie skippy.

The next theme came to me slowly. I saw some opportunities start to swirl and manifest around me, and having learned some of my lesson, I wondered if this was a test to see if I would give in to another diversion. As quickly as I could, I went back to Her and asked for clarification. I’ve made enough terrible mistakes already; I was willing to risk being told to figure it out on my own if it meant She might share more insight.

That’s when 2014’s theme was given to me, much in the same way that 2013 was the Year of Contemplation. This year is to be the Year of Dedication. I will still spend much time, likely even more than last year, in spiritual contemplation, but I will also be taking on the responsibilities of sorting out what people/places/things fall within my calling, and which ones only serve as distractions or hidey-holes where I can run away from the difficulties of my station. Some of the plans I have for 2014 have already shown how they are part of my Dedication, and other plans have already been deemed unfit.

I am still sorting out one aspect of Dedication, and I think my confusion is because I really want Her to give me a straight answer, and She wants me to find the right answer on my own. When I first was in preparation for the ordeal, I knew that She wanted some form of oath or promise that would bind me to Her. I had first toyed with the idea of becoming Her consort or spouse, and honestly the reason I didn’t explore that further was because I listened to someone I shouldn’t have who had big stakes in the outcome of that decision. But now I am unfettered (for the most part) and the question lays on the table again. For now, I am offering her my celibacy, which is going to be a very big challenge for me. For I am not only forgoing sexual contact as part of this experiment, but I am also consciously not looking or even really fantasizing about finding a new lover. (Right now, I have a mostly non-sexual relationship with Rave, and a few romantic relationships that are not only long distance, but that I rarely ever see; so the temptation has been present to try to find a new dating situation of some sort.) What I understand as the long term goal of this experiment has less to do with establishing a sexual or romantic relationship with Hel, and more about accepting the reality of my life at 40 years old.

I have tried, more than a few times, to establish a “family”. In some cases, I married or created a partnership with a person whom I felt was able and willing to establish a family unit with, only to have the relationships fall apart and with that, a complete cut-off from their life. Other than that, I have tried starting covens, communal families of choice, and other group dynamics that focused on a long-term familial devotion to one another, but most of them (really, save one) have all eventually given in to entropy. I know this yearning for family is partially due to the instability of my childhood; and that has become even more of an issue with my mother’s passing early in December. I have never met my father’s extended family, and my maternal one has become estranged from me over time. The feeling is even stronger and sadder now that both of my parents are dead; even my brother voiced his concern to me that without my mother, we may all lose touch with each other.

I also have always wanted children. I had the opportunity once when I was much younger, but I opted out thinking that I would someday reach a more stable relationship in which to bring offspring. I have tried, both in the unofficial “hey, let’s just stop using protection” path, as well as with a more formal “let’s track my ovulation and basal body temperature and have sex when things look ripe for it”, and other than a few miscarriages it just never happened. Now I am having unmistakable signs of perimenopause, and I don’t have a fertile partner of the right biological sex in order to give it one last try. And even if I did, my life is just not conducive to the responsibilities inherent in having a child, which is why adoption is not an alternative. My best hopes is to try to remain an active part of my godson’s lives, and accept my childless lot.

It’s a lot to give up. When other people were dreaming of stellar careers and fancy trips, I’ve always had a far simpler vision of what I thought my life would be like. I just wanted a stable family life wherein all of the people involved had made a lifelong commitment to love and respect each other, and work collaboratively in raising some kick-ass children. I never really cared about what I would be doing or how much money we had, just that there were both adults and children in my life and that we had a loving, fun-filled home.

Then again, when I surrendered, first to Loki and later to Hel, I never asked for the family package. In fact, I consider myself lucky that I have been able to have the relationships I have experienced in the last fifteen years, and I have fond memories of all of them, even the ones that ended on bad terms. I know plenty of spirit workers who have been denied the opportunity to have mortal lovers at all, so I know they were a blessing. And there’s nothing written in stone that I won’t be able to have them in the future (yet); it’s just that I need to take this time to dedicate myself to the reality I am in, have been given, and to stop pining and/or trying to create a reality that is not mine to have. So the celibacy is less about not having sex (I am still allowed to masturbate, thank you Hel), and more about letting those dreams slowly rot on Her altar. If I were to take time to find and pursue a new lover, it would very much distract me from that process, and rekindle my hope.

And She has said that this is not forever, and that any changes to that I will have some say in. If Mx. Perfect-for-Del shows up, then part of that perfectness will have to be the understanding that sex is not on the table right away – not that it was with lovers in my past, either – and that my calling as Her shaman-and-sometimes-consort takes a huge precedence over any mortal, any day. It means that the tasks and responsibilities I take on this year as I begin to hone-in on what I am dedicating myself to are very much more important in terms of time, energy, focus, and availability. I will have to be very clear and unrelenting in my communication about what I am able to share with a lover, and if they can’t accept that, it’s better we know that up front, than spend a long time both hoping that things will somehow change.

I know that this year of dedication will be a lot of work. Not only personal work in the same way contemplation was, but also actual “must be awake, alert, and able to engage” types of work. My pain has been bad enough for the last two months that my doctor is very concerned, and I am also showing some early signs that I may have a new abscess. But part of what She wants from me is to find the balance between making time to do the things that allow me to be as functional as possible – like going to doctor’s appointments, seeking out therapies, eating well and getting what exercise I can tolerate, etc – but at the same time, not falling into another dark hole of counterproductive nothingness just because I feel shitty. I don’t know where that balance is quite yet, but I will sure be trying to find it.

I have so many other things to write about – obviously, my mother’s death being one of them – and honesty, I’ve started six or seven different entries and I eventually realize that I’m just not ready to share so openly yet. Another sad consequence of 2013 is that I had to learn to be much more circumspect about what I share online, as I have found more than once, someone using my words, my experiences, my life, etc as a way to attack, belittle, hurt, shame, or punish me. Some of the entries that I have deleted were purely emotional responses to such things, and I know that sort of pettiness does nothing but make me look like a jerk – I know this, because the people who did these things sure looked like jerks when they did it first. Instead, I am taking some time to note important thoughts, feelings, and insights, and when I am able to write from a less tumultuous perspective, I will get back into the swing of things.

But for now…

Hail Hel, Lady of Mercy and Patience.

Hail Hel, Who is as Warm as She is Cold.

Hail Hel, Who Loves Silly Fools Who Take Too Long To Learn.

Hail Hel, Giver of Life and Death in Equal Measure.

Hail Hel, Entropic Transformation.

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Own Your Own Happiness

March 19, 2013 at 12:00 pm (Living, Mental Health) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Your happiness relies on you. You rely on your happiness. It’s a reciprocal relationship, one where you feed into your happiness bank, and it pays you in dividends. When you are feeling less stressed, more relaxed, more focused, more satisfied with your life, it’s easier to achieve your goals, whatever they may be. If you don’t feed your happiness bank, your life becomes a constant struggle to find a moment of peace, and you get diverted from the things that you want to be doing, in an emergency-like feeling of desperately needing that release.

happiness piggy bank

The problems may start because the people in your life – your lovers, partners, friends, co-workers, clients, employees, etc – also somewhat rely on your happiness. When you’re not feeling sad or stressed, you’re easier to work with, more fun to be around, and more able to give and receive love without hesitation. So it’s in their best interest to try to make you happy, in whatever way they can intuit that. Because it’s hard to ask, and get an honest answer to, the question, “What would make you happier?” And even if you ask it, and get an honest answer, it may be hard to manifest exactly what that person needs.

We all want to nurture the people we care about. It’s an innate feeling, hard to fight. If they are physically harmed, we want to be there with band-aids and antibiotic cream. If they’re suffering from grief, we want to give them a shoulder to cry on and things to distract them. If they’re feeling unloved, we want to give them as much attention and affirmation as we can. And if we’re not careful, two very unhealthy and unfair things result from this.

The first is that we give so much that we aren’t feeding our own banks. Everyone has heard of burnout, but few people are savvy enough to recognize the beginning symptoms, so it gets discovered too late. We spend so much time feeding other people’s banks that we aren’t doing things that make us happy, or only make us happy as a side effect. Even if making other people happy feeds you in some way, if you aren’t getting anything in return – and it’s very hard for sad, depressed, angry, lonely, neglected-feeling people to give much, since they feel empty themselves – then you’re spending what little you have supporting others. This can work in short-term situations, like when your friend loses someone close to them, but in the long term it leads directly to burnout.

The other side of this, the more insidious and dangerous side, is that the other people comes to see you as their sole or primary provider of the happy. If they aren’t taught to find their own happiness, but instead are taught that complaining to others about their bad-feeling feelings results in getting time, attention, support, money, or whatever else makes them happy, they become mice in an experiment, pushing the “happy” button over and over again, addicted in a way, to whatever it is that others have done to make them feel better. They become resentful and angry when you can’t feed them as much as last time, or if you have other things to focus on, or even if you just need a break to refill your own ability to engage.

It’s a trap we all fall into. We see each other on both ends of the spectrum, the one burned out from trying to make everyone happy, and also desperately trying to milk whatever happiness we can get from those who support us. In this cycle, we totally forget that we are able to do both of these things on our own, and in the end, it’s a better and more reliable way to get what you need.

We all suffer

Think of it in terms of money, because it’s an apt analogy. If your friend is unemployed, and you give them enough money to live on (not just an emergency fund to pay a bill or keep them housed), eventually the motivation to get their own job and support themselves starts to evaporate. As you realize that you can’t keep it up long term, and you start to lessen or withdraw your financial support, the friend blames you for not being able to pay their bills, or to buy food. They can’t see past the fact that really, that responsibility was always on their shoulders, and they just chose to rely on someone else rather than their own ingenuity and self-worth to get it done. There’s nothing inherently wrong with taking a break from supporting yourself – whether financially, emotionally, or spiritually – as long as it’s a “break”, and not “a new reality”.

I heard somewhere recently that “depression is the grief that comes from the death of part of you”. That when you realize you have to make a big life change, where something you’ve relied upon for your strength, identity, or survival (or some combination thereof, like a marriage) is over; you go into a state of grief. Sometimes – oftentimes, mayhaps – this starts not when the change actually happens, but when you (consciously or subconsciously) realize that the change needs to happen. I had already phrased this differently, for my own life, as “depression is a sign that you’re afraid to change something.” So when I get sad, angry, lonely, frustrated, or depressed, I look around my life and start to sort out what change I’m resisting or running away from.

running away from home

What makes things difficult and complicated, is that sometimes – oftentimes, mayhaps – the gut reaction is to try to fix or change whatever is making you depressed, rather than facing what it really means. And this is where we start to look to others to feed us; instead of facing the fact that you’ve become radically insecure about your place in the world, and that you need to bone up and face that, work on it, change it into something better, you start to rely on your loved ones and family to make you feel more secure. Again, though, that’s something that’s best only done in an emergency-type situation – if it will keep you from, say, killing yourself or turning to self-harm (alcohol, drugs, cutting, indiscriminate sex, going into debt shopping, etc) – but it’s not the solution. It might feel like it, because in the short term you do actually feel better; but it’s only skin deep. You can’t keep burning people out in hopes that they will fill the hole in your heart; if you can look back and see a trail of dead relationships, well, you know what they say about seeing a problem happen over and over again – it means the problem is you.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

But it’s sounds so easy on paper – make yourself happy. In reality, it’s hard work. Sometimes it sucks, especially in the beginning. You need to figure out what you’ve been doing that keeps you unhappy – staying in a bad relationship, giving too much of yourself away, not focusing on what makes you feel good, etc – and get it under control. That’s where most people resist the hardest – they don’t want to do it. They don’t want to break up a bad relationship, they feel like they can’t, for one reason or another. And we’re fucking talented at creating bullshit reasons why we can’t do something that will severely mess up the status quo. “But this job that pays me shit wages will lead to better things!” exclaims the person who doesn’t have enough money to pay the bills, “And it’s fun, and it doesn’t feel like work to me, and I like the people I work with, and I don’t want to have to take a job that isn’t fun or convenient. So I can’t do it.” Yes you can. It will suck, and you’ll be unhappier in the short term, but when you go to sleep at night knowing that your bills are paid, you have better health insurance, and you don’t have to sweat out the next car repair, you’ll thank yourself. Not only that, but you’ll appreciate the hard work and sacrifice that you made to get to where you are – believe me.

I have faced this sort of thing so many times in my life, I start to wonder if my diagnosis of “Major Depressive Disorder” (having many depressive episodes over a long period of time) isn’t a misdiagnosis of something more simpler – “Afraid of admitting you’ve made a mistake and don’t want step up and fix it.” I’ve made tons of mistakes in my life; maybe more than most people. I had a vision in my head of what I really wanted, but every time I got close to it, I started sacrificing things that were vitally important to my sense of self to attain and maintain it. I married Mike because I wanted something resembling a normal home life – I wanted a husband, and children, and I wanted to feel safe and comforted in that sort of arrangement. Even when it became clear that children weren’t going to just show up on their own, I still clung to this idea that he and I were a family, not a relationship, and you don’t break up with your family, right? So when he emotionally manipulated me, lied to me, cheated on me, lied to my friends, cheated on his other relationships, used money to control and manipulate me, and demanded that I keep up this appearance that everything was okay; I fell into it. I fell so deep that when it came to leaving him, I ended up waiting until he left. Yes, even after I called him on all the bullshit, I was willing to stay and work it out, because you don’t break up with your family. Even after we were separated, I tried to keep him involved in my life in some way, keep him in the role of being my family, and the more he rejected me, the worse I felt.

But anyone who’s been by my side while this has all been going on, can easily tell you that the separation has done miraculous things for me. It has freed me from all of the things Mike was afraid of, namely my transition, but a million other things, too. I was able to reclaim the course of my life, and took power in sitting down and figuring out what was really important to me, because I had learned the long, hard lesson that other people was the wrong answer. I truly believe that’s why Hel did two things in the course of my ordeal – one, she wouldn’t accept other people as a valid reason to allow me to continue living, and two, she declared that I could never make other people my main focus in life.

But things are getting dangerous in that realm of my life, because so many people are trying to get my focus. All of them seem to only want a part of it, but when you add it all together, I can point to many little issues in my life coming directly from this. I have insomnia because often it’s late at night when one or another one of my friends, lovers, clients, etc, think/know that I’m not actively working/writing/doing spirit work, etc (even though often they are very, very wrong) and so they pick 1am as a great time to process what’s going wrong with our relationship. (It doesn’t help that many of my friends/lovers/etc have jobs or lives that allow them to have these conversations at 1am, either.)

...and that has it's own effects on my health and well being.

…and that has it’s own effects on my health and well being.

I get frustrated at myself, because a terrible side effect of this is that even when a person only contacts me once, asking when they might get a piece of my time and attention, I overreact. I react with all the stress, frustration, and unhappiness that has built up from each one of these requests, and there have been many. I also feel like crap, because I should be overjoyed that so many people love me so much that they want my time and attention, and I sound like a privileged brat when I complain about it. “Oh, I’m too popular! I only wish more people didn’t give a shit about me! Woe is me!”, right? It also has the added detriment of making the people asking for my time – probably because they’re lonely, or sad, or depressed, or in some other way feeling negative about themselves or their life – feel even shittier, because I’m complaining about getting exactly what they wish for; people who want to spend time with me.

There have been warnings, too. I’ve had two very clear, verified by outside sources, knocks on the Del skull that other people are starting to take focus away from what the Gods want me to be doing; which right now, that means mostly writing, resting, and contemplation. All three of those things don’t seem like they are as important as spending time with people, nor do people tend to feel bad for interrupting such things. I was ranting the other day, when someone dared hint that maybe working on the book was really my problem, that if I had a regular 9 to 5 job, in an office somewhere, that was going through a crunch time (I have a deadline coming up that I have to meet if I want my first book to come out in June, which is very important to me emotionally as well as financially), no one would dare insinuate or state that I should just stop working and spend more time with my family/friends/lovers. Now yes, if someone was in “crunch time” for, say, a year, I could see advising them to not forget that life exists outside of work. But I only got the book deal three or four weeks ago, and the “request” of spending the year in contemplation three months ago, so it’s not like I’ve been in my hidey hole for too long. I also do go out, although mostly to events, but there’s a social element to those things and it means I’m not just spending my time in front of my computer, getting a severe lack of Vitamin D for lack of seeing the sun.

I even got some outside verification that this current frustration could be a test – whether or not I will bail on my promises to Hel at the first opportunity, and make other people a priority, rather than manage to set clear and unbending boundaries around what Hel and I both want out of what time I have left. It’s not like either of us didn’t expect this; I spent much of 2012 spending time with people, making them my focus, and so like the friend who starts expecting you to pay their bills, I’ve made many people accustomed to getting my time and attention fairly easily.

The deeper lesson here, as I am beginning to realize, is this “happiness bank” analogy. I have a lifelong (even in my childhood) issue of being so afraid of not being liked, of being alone, of not having any friends or lovers, that I go way further than most to make my people happy. I mean, again, look at my last marriage; I stopped myself from doing things I really wanted to, to keep Mike happy. I wanted to change my last name. I wanted to bottom more often. I wanted to start taking testosterone. I wanted to buy more men’s clothing. I wanted to keep my hair short/shaved. I wanted to date other people. These, and so many other things, I deprived myself of because it might make Mike feel the least bit uncomfortable. He was so used to me doing these things, he didn’t even see them. And when I brought them to light, he would blame me for doing these things without being asked. That’s true. He never outright said, “Never bottom in public, it really upsets me and reminds me that you don’t bottom to me anymore.” What he did, was get very sad and withdrawn when I bottomed to someone else. I didn’t like seeing him like that, and didn’t like being around him. Easy answer, right? I fed his happiness bank with a little of my own; I gave up bottoming in public so he would feel better.

But where I seem to be failing in this lesson is that when I take a step back, and try to illustrate to my people (my shorthand for “friends, family, lovers, clients, etc”) that I need them to start feeding their own happiness bank, and stop expecting my weekly direct deposits, they feel like I’m doing something directly to hurt them, or am being mean to them. It feels hurtful for me to ask them to be responsible for their own sense of peace, because I’m taking something away from them. It is hard to stay resolute in that, and stand by my own boundaries, even with the God-threat of losing all of my relationships over my shoulder the whole time, because like every other human, when I see people in pain I want to make them feel better.

I can’t. My happiness bank is currently overdrawn, and I have to fix it now.

What everyone's happiness bank should look like!

What everyone’s happiness bank should look like!

It starts with the most direct and dire situation – I need time to write, edit, re write, and produce the book. It’s not an exercise in ego, this project; it’s a direct line to making more money. I don’t want to get into numbers, but let’s say my alimony is barely enough (and sometimes frankly, not enough) to keep living life the way I have been living it. Events think I’m getting big in my britches when I tell them I can’t afford to pay for my own hotel, but really, it’s because I’m living on about an eighth of the resources I had a year ago. This weekend, I attended an excellent workshop on how to make more money as a presenter, especially how to do it without just demanding that events give you more in terms of compensation, and it wouldn’t be terribly hard to do some of those things. Of course, however, that they require my time and attention. This book is only one step in that direction – of being able to continue doing pastoral care counseling, teaching classes, writing blogs, facilitating ordeals, mentoring, etc – and not charge an arm and a leg to do it. It would be easier on me, and on the world at large, if I can ask many people to give me small amounts of money (paying for a download, buying a book, getting a reading) than it would be to only require my clients to pay me larger amounts of money in order to survive. I can help so many more people if I distribute my financial need among all the people I’ve touched with my words, my actions, my rituals, my classes, etc.

But I need the time, energy, spoons, to set these things up. That’s, understandably, have to come from somewhere.

Like many people who have found themselves in this situation, when I talk to people about this, they’re completely understanding – as long as that time, energy, attention, spoons, etc, doesn’t affect them. Like I have this secret cache of people to whom it’s much easier for me to say “fuck off, I need to do this other stuff.” Clients think I should tell my friends to fuck off. My friends think I should tell events to fuck off. Events think I should tell my lovers to fuck off. My lovers think I should tell everybody else to fuck off. And my Gods?

There’s that scary threat. That I’ll lose it all if I don’t do the Work. And like any good submissive, the prime directive is “take care of the property”, in this case, my life and ability to live.

So instead of writing sixty different emails to people about feeding their own happiness banks, I wanted to write a blog post that might help even more people. Maybe you need to feed your own bank. Maybe you’re burnt out from feeding other people’s banks. Maybe you’re suffering from depression because you’re afraid of the piece of you that has to die in order to make a change.

First of all, this is a universal experience. Every single human being experiences all of these feelings, at different points in their lives. Some people have it harder, especially if they have biochemical predispositions for feeling depressed, insecure, out of control, or in some other way not able to rely solely upon themselves for their own happiness. It is important to reach out to someone who gets paid to help you with that, though – because that’s the reciprocity. That’s why a therapist is better than relying on all your friends; the money makes it worth their time, and they can feed their kids and pay their bills at the end of it. (This weekend, I learned about the “resentment fee”, that is, how much money will it take so I don’t resent you for asking me to do this thing for you? It’s a useful tool for entrepreneurs who are trying to figure out how to price their services.) So if you are scared of the prospect of feeding your own happiness bank, especially if the need feels too great, it might be a good idea to seek out a therapist or other professional to get you on the right path.

Secondly, you need to know what makes you happy, and learn how to achieve those things without anyone else’s assistance. And before you tell me that “being around other people” is one of those things, you can go to a concert. Join a book club. Go to a bar. Throw a party. Do things where you create and control the situation, rather than relying on others. As I recently said, it’s so much nicer and easier for me to make time for other people if I don’t also have to invent the fun thing we’re going to go do. If you ask me out to a dinner and a movie, and you pick the restaurant and the film, I’m so much more likely to feel enthusiastic and willing to futz with my calendar to go; whereas if you just whine “I want more of your time!”, thus dumping the responsibility of finding said time, and then filling it with something more than just staring at each other, which makes it feel onerous and work-like.

wambulance

Take control! Make things that make you happy manifest. Throw your own party, instead of waiting to be invited to one! Go out and meet people, rather than expect your friends to invite you to places where potential new people might be. Put on your big kid pants and if you have to fake the confidence, the self-esteem, the security in your self, your attractiveness, do it. Practice little steps, if you have to. But I promise you, when you feel more in control of our own happiness, you’ll have more love and devotion to pour onto those around you, rather than sucking them dry of theirs.

So if you’re burned out? Say so. Don’t lay the blame at the people who have burned you out, because you chose to feed them as much as you have. It may be difficult to wean them, but in the end it will be worth it. Please remember that taking time for yourself, and solitary activities, is not self-indulgent. It is fucking necessary in order to be healthy and peaceful enough to engage with others without a bad attitude. Read books. Watch documentaries. Write a shitty novel (or a great one, whatever, just don’t pressure yourself about whether it’s good or not), it’s the doing, not the result! Take up a solo hobby by watching videos on You Tube. Make “office hours” – days of the week, hours of the day, that you respond to emails from friends, or take phone calls from them, or in other ways give to others – and make them public if you have to, so people know when you’re willing to engage, and when you’re busy taking care of yourself.

You can do it!

You can do it!

Don’t be afraid to unplug. Many of my friends have been reveling in the feeling of turning off their phones, disengaging from the Internet, not watching television, and then figuring out what to do with their time. We let so many things suck us in, distract us from the real flow of our lives, that sometimes we stop living. Mike was infamous for his “clicky games”, spending hours playing Farmville and online poker, and then complained that I didn’t spend enough time and attention with him. I understand the need for these things to help you relax, but honestly, I find they are usually just as stressful as they are relaxing. Maybe promise yourself two hours a week – a week – where you turn off your phone and disengage from the computer. Tell people if you have to, but sometimes it’s better when you don’t.

Remember that in our age of everything-on-demand, that you don’t owe anyone an immediate response. No matter if they call you, text you, email you, send you a chat, a message on social media, a comment on your blog, whatever; you have never made a promise to respond in a certain amount of time. Teach your friends by example that they shouldn’t expect you to be available to them at every hour of every day. If they complain, ask them what they expect in terms of response time, and then respond with something reasonable, taking the rest of your life into consideration. I had to make the decision that no one – not my mother, not my lovers, nobody – is owed immediate responses. If it’s an emergency, they’ll tell me so, and then I can decide if I can engage with their emergency or not. They have other people they can turn to, and if they don’t, that’s on them.

In the reverse, there’s nothing nicer than getting a message from someone that explicitly says that no response is necessary, or expected, or that I can get to it whenever I have the time. (Just, be truthful about this; if you know you’ll get pissed if you don’t get a response in two months, don’t say you don’t care at all.) So when you send someone something that requires a response, let them know they can take their time with it. After all, I’d much rather receive an answer when my friend is calm, collected, relaxed, and has time to spend on it, rather than a dashed-off, two word response that makes me feel disregarded and bothersome. Decide that quality is more important than quantity, and that you’d rather have a single email a month that was chock full of attention to detail, and interesting information, than six emails a day that are written while they’re simultaneously doing four other things.

short reply

If you’re in a relationship, be brutally honest about how much time you need from another person to feel engaged with them. Even if you’re afraid they’ll tell you they can’t meet it, it’s better to not be in a relationship where you feel hungry all the time, than to be in one where your partner is constantly feeling like they are neglecting you. It creates this terrible loop where no one is happy. And if the person you want can’t give you what you need, you have a decision to make. If you can get supplemental happiness from other sources (namely, yourself, but also other people, things, hobbies, etc), then know that you’ll be expected to feed yourself from those things in perpetuity while the relationship is happening. If you can’t, then no matter how sexy, charming, interesting, or stellar-in-bed they are, you’ll both feel crappy all the time, and it’s better off not to engage. If you’re already in the relationship and realizing that you have vastly different expectations in terms of time and attention, you have to be radically honest with yourself about whether or not you can live what what they give, and if you can’t, then you need to “take care of the property” and walk. Not every break up is about the lack of love or desire; sometimes, incompatibility is more than just liking different kinds of movies or having different hobbies; it can also mean that what you envision a “relationship” as, and what they envision, are too different, and neither of you will be happy. Fuck, read 50 Shades of Gray if you want a good example of what that kind of relationship looks like.

50 shades sucks

Beware of emotional manipulation. It can be really subtle, and most of the time, the person doing it isn’t even aware of it. But a statement like, “Oh, I really want to go with you on the cruise, and I think it would be good for our relationship, but alas, I don’t have the money…if only I could find some…” may sound like an honest statement about one’s financial situation, but it can also be a form of manipulation – implying that if the person wanted good things for the relationship, they’d happily pay your way on the cruise. But that way lies dragons, my friends. Big, ugly, nasty ones that I’ve fought time and time again. It starts out small, but once someone realizes it works, they will continue to do it. Model good behavior by stating your needs and wants in direct statements, rather than wishy-washy emotional ones. “That cruise sounds like fun, but I don’t have the money. Is it possible for you to pay my way?” I had an ex who would come over to hang out, but every time we left the house to do stuff, they wouldn’t tell me they didn’t have their own money until we were there. I remember standing outside of a nightclub, her having gotten all dressed up, driving over there, and only letting us know that she didn’t have the cover until we were on our way inside. It worked, though – for years, we paid her way into everything. I had another ex who, instead of telling us she didn’t have money for food, would just choose not to eat, and make a big dramatic show of it. But it worked; we paid for her food more often than not.

But what did those people also do? They also became exes. Because over time, they kept taking without giving. It’s okay if you don’t have the money once in a while, or if you’re up front when you’re invited – “I’d love to go, but I don’t have the money.” or “I’m coming for a few days, but I need to watch my budget when it comes to ordering food.”

The same goes from time, attention, emotional energy. It’s easy to give time to someone when you don’t have a lot going on. If you are asking me to give up time I need to be working on the book; then when I ask you for time during finals week, you better be ready to give it back. If you know you can’t afford to make that sort of sacrifice, then don’t ask someone else to do it for you.

tally

It’s not like you need to keep a tally of who did what for whom when. It’s more of a feeling. You should feel like spending time with your people is a fun, happy, feeding you sort of thing. It’s okay if once in a while, you decide to spend time with someone else because it makes them happy, even if it’s a little inconvenient for you. But if you see your friend calling, and always press “ignore” because you know phone calls with them inevitably last three hours; if you turn down invitations to things you enjoy because someone will be there who will monopolize your time; if you feel guilty posting about a fun night out with a friend because you know you’ll get five nasty emails asking why you had time for that but not for them; it’s time to take a step back and figure out where the problem(s) are.

At the core of it all, though, the one thing you have completely and utterly within your own control, is your own happiness. If you catch yourself thinking, “If so-and-so would only do things differently, I would be happy”, you need to take a moment and rephrase that. “Why is so-and-so doing things that way, and do I necessarily need to engage with them while they do it?” is a start. But really, the better questions are things like, “Okay, regardless of what my calendar says, what would make me happy this weekend?” “Instead of sitting at home, moping about having nothing to do and no one to do it with, I can be researching groups in my area that do stuff I like, or find a party to attend, or call up some friends I haven’t spoken to in a while.” Ask yourself, “What can I do, all by myself, to make this situation better?” If the answer feels difficult, or emotionally challenging, know that you’ve hit a much deeper hole, and it may take some time and attention to fill it, but you can. In a way, you have to. Because if you aren’t the arbiter of your own happiness, then you’re surrendering a level of control over your life; and you’ll still only have yourself to blame if it isn’t making you happy.

Do it. Make a list, right now, either in the comments, on your own blog, on your Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr, or even just on a piece of paper – five things. Five things that would make your life a little happier. A little less stressful. A little more carefree. And it’s okay if these things aren’t inherently fun in and of themselves – “saving up enough money to pay off the car note” doesn’t sound like a lot of fun, but if not having to worry about getting repossessed will make your life happier, then it’s still worth listing.

Then, hold yourself accountable. Each day, ask yourself what you’ve done to make one of those five things come to fruition. You don’t have to do them all in a day, and I’m sure many of them are actually made up of several microsteps of their own. “I brought leftovers to work for lunch, rather than ordering out, and took that $20 and put it in the ‘pay the car note’ fund.”

..and we all know how I feel about awesome metal lunchboxes, right?

..and we all know how I feel about awesome metal lunchboxes, right?

You, my readers, know that ordinarily, I’d post my own as an example. But in this case, some of them are involve other people, and I don’t feel comfortable posting that. But know that I have my own list, and I’m doing this too. And I welcome emails or messages about this exercise, as long as you understand that until my writing deadline is met, I have a limited amount of time I can spend on email (#3 on my list).

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Bound and Unbound

May 16, 2012 at 3:06 pm (Death and Dying, Living, Living With Chronic Illness, Mental Health, Spiritual) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

What we Westerners have come to know as “Enlightenment”, a state of union with All That Is, can also be translated into English as “Unbinding”, disconnecting the self from all that holds it back from communing with the Universe at large. It is important to note that there is a distinct difference between loving something and being attached to it. Attachment comes from the fear of loss; we desperately cling to something because it feels like it is valuable and somehow that adds to our own sense of value. Love is ephemeral and, when applied correctly, comes with few or no real attachments. So unbinding ourselves from the attachments of this world means losing our fear and seeing our value as intrinsic, rather than based on the things that we own, the places we frequent, or the people we surround ourselves with.

Pagans have conceptions around the word “bind”. We think of a binding spell or working as something done to keep someone from engaging in maladaptive or destructive behaviors. We bind people whose magickal decisions we disagree with. We bind politicians who fight to silence us. We bind the visions of the past to keep them from tainting our future. It is an ending, a banishment, the making of an outcast. When I have a bad breakup, I bind the ex from influencing my future in any but the most positive ways. (No, it doesn’t always work.)

We also spend a lot of time “grounding”, binding our energies to the Earth. People who seem focused, centered, and in the moment are said to be grounded. We think of those who are too open energetically, unfocused, vulnerable, and slightly disassociated as being in need of grounding. People tend to ground after a ritual or other ecstatic experience. We value an attachment to the Earth; it makes us feel purposeful and connected to the flow of energy that comes from it. However, this can also work against us. Those who are too “earth bound” tend not to be open to visions, or to work magick, or to influence the flow of Wyrd. “Block heads” (a terrible term, but one that is used in my local community) lack the ability to experience possession, and that is sometimes due to an over-attachment to their bodies, or being too tightly tied to the Earth.

So it was with an interested eye that I thought of this concept, this idea that Enlightenment=Unbinding. And as I wrestled with this idea and this entry, more and more facets of it came to light. It makes perfect sense to me that Buddha would see that a sense of complete non-attachment is equal to achieving the highest state of spiritual bliss and insight.

As I think about dying, I look at the attachments I have that I am wary of losing. There are aspects of life that I am definitely not finished with and will be quite sad about if they are radically different once I am no longer bound to a meatsack. Most of my attachments are in the shape of relationships and sensations; and then, I look a little deeper, and I see the Gods stripping these things away already, in slow and careful strokes so as to not arouse my suspicion. It was only as I started looking into this whole idea of Unbinding that it became clear to me. I do not feel as though my fear is being worked away from me, however; I do fear losing these things, but I do not feel stronger when they are gone. I mourn them, all the time, and I do not feel whole now that they are gone.

It started with my birth family. Over time, I have grown further and further away from them. I probably only see my mother once a year, if that, and my sister less, and my brothers even less than that. My half brother I now only see at family functions so laden with expectation that for one or both of us to skip it would be taken as some sort of statement (like my grandfather’s funeral). Now, they are like fictitious characters that I interact with in a very conceptual way; I speak to my mother on the phone, I read my sister’s Facebook updates. But really, they are voices and words; and they only see the parts of me that fit into a short conversation or a 140 character update.

Then my social circle shrank from feeling quite expansive to very intimate. Granted, I “know” a lot of people, but very few of them actually make the effort of spending time with me in the flesh or even in something slightly more intimate than reading a blog entry written for the general public. I can probably count on two hands the people I see between big events on anything resembling a regular basis. Now, I know some of this is me, and my body dictating my calendar; some of it is also that I have become much the introvert as time has gone on. I rarely go to big social functions out of any sense of community obligation anymore; I go if I feel like going or if there is a specific reason to be there.

As for my intimates, I remember somewhat fondly when I had so many “date nights” that I yearned for a simple “laundry night”; now I sit at home while Ninja goes out with his girlfriend or to a game night. The only relationships that are local enough for in-person time are Ninja and Rave, and both of them have active lives and other loves (or potential other loves) to spend time with as well. I have two long distance relationships, but rarely do I get any real intimate time with either of them unless it’s so orchestrated it’s practically rehearsed.

So I look and see my attachments to people slowly fade away. I make silly, sad comments to Ninja all the time about how I think a month after I am dead, people will likely barely remember anything good about me at all. He tells me I am wrong, but I have seen other people in my social circle die and fade into the ether. And there’s part of me that thinks that’s the right thing to happen. One person I can think of who died was practically trapped on Earth in spirit form after hir death because hir people kept “remembering” hir over and over again. Sometimes unbinding is an important step. Sometimes unbinding leads to ascension.

Then tonight, while once again I watched Ninja eat something made with chocolate and gluten and think, “What do I have left, in terms of sensations?” I remember when I was a smoker, I would tell people that I smoked because I was a hedonist, and it was more important to me to die having experienced the good sensations in life than to live a longer life without them. Not that I want to take up smoking again, but this moment of craving made me think hard about the sensations I have left. Some of the things that are gone are better off gone: I’m pretty proud of having quit smoking, but it’s not something I’d like to do again. Of all the “bad” choices I can make, not smoking is pretty easy. But now I have lost two things that are key to my enjoyment of having a body, and I don’t know how to fix it.

The first I have lost by choice. I’m doing this paleo-esque diet because someone I trust has said that they think good things will come of it. I’ll say this much: I have not seen a reduction in weight, or blood sugar numbers, or pain, or fatigue, at all. Now, it may be that the intersection of this diet and me needing surgery was unfortunate, but I also tried acupuncture while detoxing off of fentanyl, so it’s not like I can create three medically uncomplicated months in order to try a different approach. And there’s plenty about this diet that is easy for me: I don’t miss most grains, although rice would be nice to have once in a great while. What I miss is decadence – and for me, that is very closely tied to sugar. The few times I have cheated on this diet, it has been not for cheese or bread or potatoes, but for sugar. I have not had the experience of losing my taste for sweet things; if anything, I feel acutely aware of that lack all of the time. And not just went Ninja noms some chocolate donuts; I dream about eating ice cream. I literally broke down and cried I wanted a milkshake so badly. I went to my favorite diner and stared at the dessert case, fantasizing about ordering two or three different things all at once.

Whatever makes you happy, kid.

I’m a fat kid. Food has been there for me when nothing else has. When I was poor, I couldn’t have comfortable clothes or bright, shiny toys or even a functional bike; what I could have was three ice cream sandwiches, if I quietly took them from the freezer when no one was looking. I could have as many of those terrible frozen pizzas we’d get in bulk from some wholesaler or donation place. As I have grown older, I recognize that sometimes I eat for the “wrong” reasons, but we all do things for the “wrong” reasons.

The other thing I have lost is sex. This didn’t leave by choice; it snuck out the back door and left me a note saying it would be home in a few days, but never returned. It started when I lost my libido. A combination of pain, fatigue, and dysphoria made sex complicated, and no one likes complicated sex. So for about six to eight months, I could care less; I thought that was terrible. But then it got worse.

My drive came back, but things in my relationships had adapted to me not wanting so much of the sex, and trying to get things back on track have proved, uh, challenging. I’ll be forthcoming and say that right now, it’s been almost two years since I’ve had any sort of sexual activity where my hitachi wasn’t the focus. And that is much worse than not wanting it, because at least when I didn’t want it, I still got messages from lovers and the Universe that I was sexy and desirable. Now I feel invisible and forgotten and I don’t know how to fix it. I have tried to radically accept my relationships the way they are, but at the same time I can’t force my girlfriend, who would oblige me in a heartbeat, to suddenly drive nine hours, abandoning her wife and children, so she can come fuck me silly for a week. Nor my partner, with whom I’ve never had much of a physical relationship with, suddenly decide to change his decision making process where he puts me nearer the top of his priorities.  And my poor spouse, who suffered the most when I dried up, is now having his own struggles; I can’t show him any less compassion than he showed me.

I look at my day to day existence and I’m kinda foggy on why having a body is a good thing anymore. I don’t get to use it for the things that bring me pleasure at all, and I’m not really interested in trying to find new ways to evoke those feelings. I know, I know, some people find solace in vigorous exersize or fasting, but neither of those are really options for me. I spend more and more time in disassociative states, through meditation and watching television and generally having a dissociative disorder. I disconnect from being a meatsack, unbind myself from being grounded, and yet I feel no closer to being Enlightened.

What attachments do I have left? What do I fear? I have been watching two different portrayals of men who, upon learning of their cancer diagnosis, make interesting, wild life choices to make up for the doldrums of existence up until then. (Breaking Bad is one example; the other is the last few episodes of House, MD.) How can I let loose, go wild, celebrate the fact that I’m still alive? I can’t go eat the food I want, or fuck the people I want, or spend the money I don’t have, or rent a car and drive aimlessly away from all of my obligations. And worse yet, I don’t have the convenience of a clear diagnosis to explain my behavior anyway. (I do think I might be able to pull some of that off if I could say, “I have cancer” or “I have AIDS”.) Not that I want these things, per se, but having a diagnosis unbinds you from the expectations of the living, and frees you onto the plain of the maybe-dying. I get to be grounded; Ninja won’t even let me talk about dying with him, much less try to convince him to add crazy adventures into our lives under the pretense that I don’t have many more days where leaving the house and doing crazy things are an option. The predictions for my future are pretty dire.

I stand at a rather complex crossroad. I have an intense, heart-gripping crush on someone, but I haven’t told them for a number of reasons; one of which is because I don’t know if starting a new relationship is the kind thing to do to someone. My diet choices are my own, and I can say Bugger Off and go eat a Vermonster, but it’s not like the plan set before me made no sense – it does , and is sensible, and has a lot of merit. I just don’t like it very much. I could resign myself to no more sex in this lifetime – just take it off the table so I stop thinking about it altogether – but someone would have to communicate this to my hormones and my genitals so they stop asking. (I now think I know what it’s like to be a young boy experiencing erections outside of his control, because my body doesn’t know the appropriate time to remind me that sex is fun, so it happens at the weirdest moments, like during a life insurance ad.) I could dive in, retie myself to living life, and risk more attachments; or I can fly out, move away, and detach and remove until there’s nothing left at all. Neither sound like the right choice, but I don’t see much middle ground, either.

In some ways, I feel very unbound. I see lots of things I used to feel very attached to, whose presence in my life defined who I was and what I was here for, taken away or having been given up. I have very few actual ties; other than friends who might miss my presence, I could disappear tomorrow and the hole left wouldn’t be all that big. Already in my life have I literally left everything I owned and everyone I knew behind and started on another journey; I know I have the strength to do it again if it is asked of me. When I was told that I do not have much time left to breathe air and dance around fires, I knew that part of the reason I was given that information in advance was so I could disentangle myself slowly, prepare myself for my departure, which is actually something that brings me great comfort.

At the same time, I am completely bound to this plane. I have big plans for the next year, including three book projects, a super secret project that I really hope falls into place, some kick ass teaching opportunities, and other life experiences that I feel very connected to. I have unresolved business in the form of relationships that need tending, and exploring, and finding that sweet spot of interdependence that brings me joy and pleasure. I have much to teach, not only the general public, but my apprentices and students and others. I know that I need to leave a very big legacy; ways for people to access my voice for years to come.

I have been accused of being Enlightened. I am, at my core, a deeply spiritual person of faith. My faith is one of the most important parts of my life, if not the most important. I see the interconnectedness of many things that others do not, and that vision gives me insights that others crave. I am blessed to have a fairly clear and accurate “god phone” (two way communication with Gods and Spirits) that I use to facilitate others having a better, more deeply rooted experience of their own spirituality. Other people have used words like Guru and Bodhisattva to describe me; inside, I think of myself as a fellow journeyer who happens to have a better map than some – and not even the best map, or Gods forbid, GPS. I use the words Shaman and Spirit Worker because Loki told me that I had to; I had to use words others understood so clients could find me. (“Shaman” still sometimes rubs me the wrong way, and sometimes I wish I could use a more traditionally Norse word for the job instead; however, I work with clients who worship all sorts of Deities.)

I have also been accused of, spiritually, not knowing my ass from my elbow. That my insights are not all that earthshattering, and my practices can be dangerous. Heck, there is even one detractor who thinks I’m a sociopathic predator who seeks out impressionable people to turn into sex slaves. (I am not exaggerating.) I work extremely hard to remain humble, and to emphasize to those who idolize me that I am merely a meatsack just like they are. I work closely with Hanuman to remind myself that the servant is as holy as the king, and most of the time moreso. I know I get lost sometimes, and think that I know the right answer or have the only right opinion, but the Universe is pretty swift at kicking me in the asshole when I do.

So all this leaves me to wonder where I really am in this journey of Unbinding, of Enlightenment, of really seeing All That Is in a way that my head organ meat can understand. I don’t know if giving up everything that is perceived as unhealthy to my body has done me much good overall. I am still confused as to whether I’m actually as prepared for what lies ahead for me, both physically and spiritually, as I think I am. Heck, sometimes I can barely figure out what time it is. But I accept that this is an ongoing process, and the process is sacred. The process is the Work; the products of that process don’t matter as much. We get too attached to the end results, and overlook the holiness of liminality. And it’s in those spaces where the real insights that matter are found.

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