So each morning I'm finding little things to meditate on and learn, even if it's just for that hour.
This morning the last post snowballed into thinking about the Vampire people around us, which led to me looking up leeches online.
It's really an amazing metaphor. So, here are some facts about leeches:
A leech often literally bleeds its victim dry (most don't feed on humans but on small invertebrates). They attach and consume their victim whole, only detaching when they're full and need to digest. Some leeches consume up to 5 times their body mass, meaning they only need to feed about twice/year. When a leech is sucking the life out of its victim, it secretes an anti-coagulant called hirudin. This means, if it doesn't kill the victim, the wound that's left will bleed more than a normal wound. And, finally, while it's never been proven that leeches can numb their bite, a morphine-like substance has been found in leeches. Here's the thing--it's found in their neural tissues, not in their saliva, and it's used to help their own immune system, not at all used on the victim.
The comparison is almost too on-the-nose, and I know the following is completely anthropomorphic and that a leech is simply acting how a leech is supposed to act. BUT when thinking of how we call people leeches, what we mean is put into further clarity for me.
Leeches are completely and utterly self-concerned, to the extent that they consume their victim whole. They gorge themselves far far far far far (5 times!) beyond what they need, so that they can remain secure for an extended period of time. Not only do they wound to get what they want, but the wound bleeds longer than others because of the method a leech uses to get what it wants. And a leech helps its own defenses and neurological needs rather than imparting any of that to its victim.
A cautionary tale--well demonstrated, God!
I guess I'm left with a few takeaways. One, I needed to get some perspective on this ish because I frequently let people become leeches in my life. But when a character trait is put so starkly, I feel like I understand it better. People who latch on and try to suck you dry not only are entirely self-consumed but they could succeed, and suck you dry, and then assuage their own guilt while they leave you bleeding longer than you normally would. Two, I wonder if a leech knowingly wrongs its victim or if it's pure instinct, no thought beyond the grasp and scrape for survival. If it's the latter, then when you encounter a leech stretching towards you and looking to latch on, the most appropriate response is to run like hell.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Jail Bird
so i wrote my friend who's in prison. She stole a bunch of money from immigrants through her legal practice--charging them extensive fees and then dropping out of site without providing the work. Horrible. She definitely belongs in jail. But still I worry about her, and don't want her to feel alone, and so I wrote her. She hasn't written me back--I wrote her a week ago and sent her some money--I wonder if she will write me back.
I think about her a lot lately. There's an option to buy an inmate a tablet, a cheap version I'm sure, and then they can write you letters and play games and listen to music. If I got her that tablet I wonder what kind of music she'd listen to. When I went to see her once we were listening to the same album. And while we can find areas we intersect, we are intrinsically different. Not just in that she has no patience for harder music whereas I love it, but in other ways. Like how she thought it was horrible/cheap/low-class to build your own things (bookcases, furniture, whatever) and I strive to learn as much as I can in that department. Anyways, she used to say how alike we were, and was offended when I said we were very different. Differences aren't bad, I would tell her.
Before jail, years ago, I went to see her a few times. Once she called me out of the blue and asked me to come babysit for a weekend. She had a deposition and hiring a babysitter for 2 days was the same price as flying me out there. And she was moving. She basically just needed support and was insanely stressed. She bought me a 1-way ticket and I flew from Portland (where I couldn't find work) to her home. We attended mommy & me Yoga, took the dogs to the dog park, ate Mexican food, and went on long walks. As I helped her pack up her old place I noticed that every towel had baby shit on them. Every single towel. I was using them to wrap up fragile things and at first it didn't register. Because who blatantly leaves out towels with huge shit marks on them? But that's what it was. During the process of moving she was cruel to the movers, and honestly she's lucky they didn't accidentally break all of her things.We went to coffee and the baby got just slightly fussy and so people looked. No one judging, just glancing. One young college girl stared too long (she was spacing out, unfortunate for her) and my friend snapped "And what are you looking at?!?" at the poor girl. Everyone was out to get her. She described her insides as full of bouncing balls. I stayed with her for a week and then hightailed it out of there as soon as I could. I'm lucky my other friend had a travel pass, or I would've been stranded.
I know she needed help, but so did I at that point and I couldn't provide her with all she needed. It felt like I was being sucked dry.
I wonder now if she feels better, or if she's clawing at the walls without her daughter. Perhaps she can calm down in prison, where she knows her needs will be met and there's a routine to each day. Perhaps not, and those bouncing balls inside of her are just getting more intense.
I like to think of her as calmer. I like to think if I bought her that tablet that she'd download Joni Mitchell songs and listen to them with her hands over her ears, eyes closed, and head tilted slightly back.
In the end we cannot save anyone. Those years ago I waffled between trying to convince her to go to therapy and calling DCFS. But DCFS would have been destructive (her daughter wasn't in physical danger, it would have been a preventative measure but that seemed too far.) and recommending therapy would've caused her to cut me off. She wanted me to save her, that much was clear, but wouldn't have accepted any of the ways I would have chosen to go about it.
So many people are this way. We look for a savior, someone we can rely on and use and use and use until we suck them dry. We are restless and needy, grasping at whatever we can reach. But it will never be enough.
I think about her a lot lately. There's an option to buy an inmate a tablet, a cheap version I'm sure, and then they can write you letters and play games and listen to music. If I got her that tablet I wonder what kind of music she'd listen to. When I went to see her once we were listening to the same album. And while we can find areas we intersect, we are intrinsically different. Not just in that she has no patience for harder music whereas I love it, but in other ways. Like how she thought it was horrible/cheap/low-class to build your own things (bookcases, furniture, whatever) and I strive to learn as much as I can in that department. Anyways, she used to say how alike we were, and was offended when I said we were very different. Differences aren't bad, I would tell her.
Before jail, years ago, I went to see her a few times. Once she called me out of the blue and asked me to come babysit for a weekend. She had a deposition and hiring a babysitter for 2 days was the same price as flying me out there. And she was moving. She basically just needed support and was insanely stressed. She bought me a 1-way ticket and I flew from Portland (where I couldn't find work) to her home. We attended mommy & me Yoga, took the dogs to the dog park, ate Mexican food, and went on long walks. As I helped her pack up her old place I noticed that every towel had baby shit on them. Every single towel. I was using them to wrap up fragile things and at first it didn't register. Because who blatantly leaves out towels with huge shit marks on them? But that's what it was. During the process of moving she was cruel to the movers, and honestly she's lucky they didn't accidentally break all of her things.We went to coffee and the baby got just slightly fussy and so people looked. No one judging, just glancing. One young college girl stared too long (she was spacing out, unfortunate for her) and my friend snapped "And what are you looking at?!?" at the poor girl. Everyone was out to get her. She described her insides as full of bouncing balls. I stayed with her for a week and then hightailed it out of there as soon as I could. I'm lucky my other friend had a travel pass, or I would've been stranded.
I know she needed help, but so did I at that point and I couldn't provide her with all she needed. It felt like I was being sucked dry.
I wonder now if she feels better, or if she's clawing at the walls without her daughter. Perhaps she can calm down in prison, where she knows her needs will be met and there's a routine to each day. Perhaps not, and those bouncing balls inside of her are just getting more intense.
I like to think of her as calmer. I like to think if I bought her that tablet that she'd download Joni Mitchell songs and listen to them with her hands over her ears, eyes closed, and head tilted slightly back.
In the end we cannot save anyone. Those years ago I waffled between trying to convince her to go to therapy and calling DCFS. But DCFS would have been destructive (her daughter wasn't in physical danger, it would have been a preventative measure but that seemed too far.) and recommending therapy would've caused her to cut me off. She wanted me to save her, that much was clear, but wouldn't have accepted any of the ways I would have chosen to go about it.
So many people are this way. We look for a savior, someone we can rely on and use and use and use until we suck them dry. We are restless and needy, grasping at whatever we can reach. But it will never be enough.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Back to life, back to reality... ♬ ♪ ♫
i'm trying to write again. Scratch that, I'm starting to write again. And to feel like myself. So here I am.
Today I am thinking of Impostor Syndrome, and my strengths and weaknesses, and allowing myself to feel like crying every time I read/hear something about self-worth or about passion and pursuing your dreams.
Nobody belongs here more than you.
I read that today and I'm going to focus on it. Both sides--I belong here, and everyone else belongs here. Even playing field.
I think I'm ready to dream again. And even if I'm not, God's ready for me to and we're moving whether I like it or not, so I mitaswhale get on board.
....i might just add to this post as the day goes on...
It's so hard to be alive. Like, really honestly livingbreathingfeelingvulnerablechasing ALIVE. Not just living. It's painful. I'm opening myself up today, tentatively, and with each opening comes a little pain, a little quickening of the blood. A little hesitation, and then the choice to stay open and alive.
Today I am thinking of Impostor Syndrome, and my strengths and weaknesses, and allowing myself to feel like crying every time I read/hear something about self-worth or about passion and pursuing your dreams.
Nobody belongs here more than you.
I read that today and I'm going to focus on it. Both sides--I belong here, and everyone else belongs here. Even playing field.
I think I'm ready to dream again. And even if I'm not, God's ready for me to and we're moving whether I like it or not, so I mitaswhale get on board.
....i might just add to this post as the day goes on...
It's so hard to be alive. Like, really honestly livingbreathingfeelingvulnerablechasing ALIVE. Not just living. It's painful. I'm opening myself up today, tentatively, and with each opening comes a little pain, a little quickening of the blood. A little hesitation, and then the choice to stay open and alive.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Thursday, May 24, 2012
i became extremely stressed out yesterday for a few hours. thinking about my apartment and starting a new life. i'm terrified...and i have nothing. do you know how stressful it is? for real, i almost broke out in hives thinking about it.
i'm a firm believer in God working things out. bless my heart, the way i navigate through this world is atrocious. i live from the heart. if my heart doesn't feel what i'm writing, i erase it. what i'm singing, i turn the music off. what i'm watching, i change the channel. my heart is the well spring of my life and it's messy. i kind of tumble around loving people and things unabashedly throwing caution to the wind doing what feels right.
this has way of living has a tendency to be soooo very detrimental to any kind of plan that i could possibly put together which often leads me to having no plan. this stresses out everyone in my life.
i moved to chicago because i had a feeling God wanted me there. i hang out with people because i have a feeling they are just great people. i hug/call people because i feel like they need it. i talk to people on the street and smile from my heart because i just feel like it's necessary. i moved to GA because i felt like my heart would implode if i didn't. all of this has lead to where i am now.
without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out, as my dad would say.
which leads to my next moment of insanity. i've "claimed" an apt. i feel like this is the one. i feel like God's leading me here. i toured the facility but it was rushed and...not REALLY a tour. more of a "let me show you the largest apt which is nothing like the one that i'm going to offer you when we get back downstairs." but it was cool. i just accepted it because i knew that was home.
my new home.
and i feel the renewal creeping up behind me. the chance that so many people wish they could take...a chance to start over. to take this City by storm. to be the person God has planned for me to be. all of the regression i feel, the anger i've felt, the tears i've cried...they're all leading to this moment.
my moment of renewal.
i may not have toilet paper. or an iron. or furniture. but i'm so excited to start over. my life in chicago was becoming more counterfeit by the day. i was in love with a man that was in love with someone else. i was working at a job that wasn't suited for me. i had frenemies surrounding me and discussing my every move. my life right now is the real deal.
it's spacious and inviting. it's full of expectation and hi-fives. i have all the love i need and am surrounded by family and good people.
my heart. my expectation. my future. it's all bright. it's all right. it's a chance in a lifetime.
i'm a firm believer in God working things out. bless my heart, the way i navigate through this world is atrocious. i live from the heart. if my heart doesn't feel what i'm writing, i erase it. what i'm singing, i turn the music off. what i'm watching, i change the channel. my heart is the well spring of my life and it's messy. i kind of tumble around loving people and things unabashedly throwing caution to the wind doing what feels right.
this has way of living has a tendency to be soooo very detrimental to any kind of plan that i could possibly put together which often leads me to having no plan. this stresses out everyone in my life.
i moved to chicago because i had a feeling God wanted me there. i hang out with people because i have a feeling they are just great people. i hug/call people because i feel like they need it. i talk to people on the street and smile from my heart because i just feel like it's necessary. i moved to GA because i felt like my heart would implode if i didn't. all of this has lead to where i am now.
without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out, as my dad would say.
which leads to my next moment of insanity. i've "claimed" an apt. i feel like this is the one. i feel like God's leading me here. i toured the facility but it was rushed and...not REALLY a tour. more of a "let me show you the largest apt which is nothing like the one that i'm going to offer you when we get back downstairs." but it was cool. i just accepted it because i knew that was home.
my new home.
and i feel the renewal creeping up behind me. the chance that so many people wish they could take...a chance to start over. to take this City by storm. to be the person God has planned for me to be. all of the regression i feel, the anger i've felt, the tears i've cried...they're all leading to this moment.
my moment of renewal.
i may not have toilet paper. or an iron. or furniture. but i'm so excited to start over. my life in chicago was becoming more counterfeit by the day. i was in love with a man that was in love with someone else. i was working at a job that wasn't suited for me. i had frenemies surrounding me and discussing my every move. my life right now is the real deal.
it's spacious and inviting. it's full of expectation and hi-fives. i have all the love i need and am surrounded by family and good people.
my heart. my expectation. my future. it's all bright. it's all right. it's a chance in a lifetime.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
...thinking on screen...
Grief is a crazy thing. It doesn't just affect the person who is hardest hit by it, but it affects everyone around that person. Everyone they come into contact with - especially those closest to them. I have never had to deal with grief on this level before. I have been through all kinds of trauma. I've grieved many losses - of situations, relationships, people - but never have I grieved like this. It's an interesting experience.
This grief is so potent that it is literally strangling my family to death - and I don't know what to do. We are all scrambling and clawing at our little gods while searching for a way to make it stop. I keep seeking the true God but not enough. The busyness has taken over and I don't realize that I'm at a deficit until I can't sleep, I'm drinking more, working too much, overwhelmed, stressed out - just not at peace. I need the world to stop so we can get this train back on the tracks.
My sister used to be my friend. Now she's a woman being strangled by grief. She is a woman doesn't know who she is anymore. She doesn't know where she's going or where she needs to go. Direction - she has no direction. He was her direction. He was who she is - she has no identity without him. Wow - that's a hard thing to process. Because I am who I am - alone, together... She was one with him to the point where she just was him - and I'm not sure that it was in the best of ways either. I'm going to have to think about that more - that would explain a lot.
It would explain why she's struggling with her morality. Why she's struggling with perception - spiritual, other people's. Why she has no peace. If your peace is wrapped up in someone else and their spirituality and you lose them, your peace will be gone as well.
I keep asking God why this has happened to us. Why this grief is happening to me. Why this pain has settled in my family. I've gotten some answers but right now a big one has settled in for me. gods. He was her god. He was a spiritual man that always prayed, read his Bible, spoke truth from his heart - but she relied on that. Now she has no peace because she trusted in the wrong thing. God removed the god from her life - it can't be the whole reason, but wow - what a revelation. Her whole foundation has been taken away.
Also, she was one of mine. I would never have admitted it before. I would have denied the truth of that statement. I would have shunned the person who revealed it to me - annoyed that such a statement be made. But now I can see it's truth. She was always someone I could run to when I should have been running to God instead. And the relationship that I always wanted and tried to foster was never going to happen.
This experience has been a lesson in placing faith in the wrong gods. Working from the wrong place. Loving from the wrong place. My foundation was wrong - it was twisted. A semblance of operating from a belief and love of the One True God but really it was all wrong. A lie shrouded in righteousness. I'm working to get back to where I need to be. I'm working to put myself in a position where I can reach back and help my family wihtout becoming overcome by grief, loss and anger of those situations.
At some point, a hard conversation needs to be had. There will be tears as the grief slashes at me and the anger of the loss tears into me attacking my character and relationships. But it needs to be done for the sake of our family. I dread it. I dread the moment, I utter the words "we need to talk". It's going to be a long, arduous undertaking that I have no emotional reserves for right now. But in order to move forward in a healthy way, we need to work it out. In order to preserve the love that is there, we have to work it out.
We need to work out our God situation. We need to work out our sister situation. We need to work out our family situation. And we need to stop letting so many things take over our lives. Chasing after so many gods just makes you tired and takes your focus off of what is important. I don't need anymore distractions.
This grief is so potent that it is literally strangling my family to death - and I don't know what to do. We are all scrambling and clawing at our little gods while searching for a way to make it stop. I keep seeking the true God but not enough. The busyness has taken over and I don't realize that I'm at a deficit until I can't sleep, I'm drinking more, working too much, overwhelmed, stressed out - just not at peace. I need the world to stop so we can get this train back on the tracks.
My sister used to be my friend. Now she's a woman being strangled by grief. She is a woman doesn't know who she is anymore. She doesn't know where she's going or where she needs to go. Direction - she has no direction. He was her direction. He was who she is - she has no identity without him. Wow - that's a hard thing to process. Because I am who I am - alone, together... She was one with him to the point where she just was him - and I'm not sure that it was in the best of ways either. I'm going to have to think about that more - that would explain a lot.
It would explain why she's struggling with her morality. Why she's struggling with perception - spiritual, other people's. Why she has no peace. If your peace is wrapped up in someone else and their spirituality and you lose them, your peace will be gone as well.
I keep asking God why this has happened to us. Why this grief is happening to me. Why this pain has settled in my family. I've gotten some answers but right now a big one has settled in for me. gods. He was her god. He was a spiritual man that always prayed, read his Bible, spoke truth from his heart - but she relied on that. Now she has no peace because she trusted in the wrong thing. God removed the god from her life - it can't be the whole reason, but wow - what a revelation. Her whole foundation has been taken away.
Also, she was one of mine. I would never have admitted it before. I would have denied the truth of that statement. I would have shunned the person who revealed it to me - annoyed that such a statement be made. But now I can see it's truth. She was always someone I could run to when I should have been running to God instead. And the relationship that I always wanted and tried to foster was never going to happen.
This experience has been a lesson in placing faith in the wrong gods. Working from the wrong place. Loving from the wrong place. My foundation was wrong - it was twisted. A semblance of operating from a belief and love of the One True God but really it was all wrong. A lie shrouded in righteousness. I'm working to get back to where I need to be. I'm working to put myself in a position where I can reach back and help my family wihtout becoming overcome by grief, loss and anger of those situations.
At some point, a hard conversation needs to be had. There will be tears as the grief slashes at me and the anger of the loss tears into me attacking my character and relationships. But it needs to be done for the sake of our family. I dread it. I dread the moment, I utter the words "we need to talk". It's going to be a long, arduous undertaking that I have no emotional reserves for right now. But in order to move forward in a healthy way, we need to work it out. In order to preserve the love that is there, we have to work it out.
We need to work out our God situation. We need to work out our sister situation. We need to work out our family situation. And we need to stop letting so many things take over our lives. Chasing after so many gods just makes you tired and takes your focus off of what is important. I don't need anymore distractions.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
So i went and bought the Kirk Franklin cd. FINALLY. After months of putting it off. OMG!! It was so worth it and speaks exactly to where I am right now in my relationship (or lack thereof) with God. It's amazing to think of where I used to be and where I am now. I'm almost back to the beaten path but now I'm a little weary. I'm not skipping and excited to get where I'm going. I'm just tired and now I have a walking stick to help clear the path and push back the foliage that keeps threatening to smack me in the face. A few good branches have gotten me good but I'm on the lookout for shenanigans now.
Lately I've been feeling like I should be fasting. From so many things. Men. Food. My phone. TV. Secular radio. Secular books. But I haven't done it. In fact, I've been wrapped up and thoroughly enthralled in said addictions. I just realized yesterday (well, i realized it before but let myself admit it yesterday) that all of these things are gods in my life. I'm torn between them and the real thing. It's eating me up inside. I'm in a constant state of discontent.
So back to Kirk (Franklin, not Cameron). There's this song on his cd called A God Like You. It hit me. Like bricks falling off a 4-story balcony. That all these gods were keeping me from focusing and truly living up to the plan that God has for me. I've felt for years that I was living a counterfeit life, but I thought it had to do with a particular person and not because I'd chosen counterfeit gods to lead my life. But I see it now.
So that being said, I've started turning them away and getting back to where I need to be. It's not easy. At all. Because as much as I want what God has for me - the real, I always panic and settle for the least. Which is no good. So during what some might call a "psychotic/emotional break" I let go of Seri for good. Then drank and cried my way through the rest of the weekend. The next one will either be the phone or the alcohol. We'll see. It's a pain in the ass but so freeing at the same time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FiemOD9wEWs
My favorite lines are:
"Healer, Father, Savior. Counselor, Friend, Provider. Was, is and forever. That's why I just want to be where you are. I'd travel life with You no matter how far."
Even though I'm so far away and not living like I need to, it's so true. No matter how far I stray I'd still travel life with God - the true God - no matter how far. And even if I end up being tortured like Paul or sentenced to a terrible death like Peter...I'd rather travel that WITH Him, than without Him.
Lately I've been feeling like I should be fasting. From so many things. Men. Food. My phone. TV. Secular radio. Secular books. But I haven't done it. In fact, I've been wrapped up and thoroughly enthralled in said addictions. I just realized yesterday (well, i realized it before but let myself admit it yesterday) that all of these things are gods in my life. I'm torn between them and the real thing. It's eating me up inside. I'm in a constant state of discontent.
So back to Kirk (Franklin, not Cameron). There's this song on his cd called A God Like You. It hit me. Like bricks falling off a 4-story balcony. That all these gods were keeping me from focusing and truly living up to the plan that God has for me. I've felt for years that I was living a counterfeit life, but I thought it had to do with a particular person and not because I'd chosen counterfeit gods to lead my life. But I see it now.
So that being said, I've started turning them away and getting back to where I need to be. It's not easy. At all. Because as much as I want what God has for me - the real, I always panic and settle for the least. Which is no good. So during what some might call a "psychotic/emotional break" I let go of Seri for good. Then drank and cried my way through the rest of the weekend. The next one will either be the phone or the alcohol. We'll see. It's a pain in the ass but so freeing at the same time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FiemOD9wEWs
My favorite lines are:
"Healer, Father, Savior. Counselor, Friend, Provider. Was, is and forever. That's why I just want to be where you are. I'd travel life with You no matter how far."
Even though I'm so far away and not living like I need to, it's so true. No matter how far I stray I'd still travel life with God - the true God - no matter how far. And even if I end up being tortured like Paul or sentenced to a terrible death like Peter...I'd rather travel that WITH Him, than without Him.
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