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wyrdling
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Birthday: 4/19/1977
Gender: Female
Interests: science, philosophy, spirituality, art, music, dancing, anthropology, history
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
12/29/2001
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| I don't like being this cynicalI'd been laboring under a general working assumption that the sort of people who'd screw you over for money were actively malignant rather than banal and typical.
Granted, right now I'm working in the real estate industry, where an overpreponderence of fools with dollar signs glazed into their eyes can be found.
I just thought you had to be a toxic sort of person to lack integrity. Whereas, actually, you just need to be weak. You just need to lack integrity. Apparently that's far more common than I realized.
I didn't grow up around weak people. I thought my classmates were exhibiting the symptoms of unregulated self interested childhood when acting malignant, but I guess I just sort of assumed that most people grew into an awareness of a sense of personal responsibility.
Which explains, I guess, one reason I'm so often baffled by the behaviour of other people. I expect they already know things that to me are basic. I end up getting hurt because I assume better of people than they deserve. But I hate to be cynical, or inherently mistrustful. I can't allow myself to not give people the opportunity to express their best selves.
I don't want to be prejudiced by inaccurate first impressions.
Yet I need to learn to listen to my instincts.
Otherwise I swing on a yoyo of giving people too much benefit of the doubt, and getting hurt and retreating into my own reality, cutting off the world and wounding people who've invested concern in my regard.
I guess the trick is to work on discerning which reactions are unvalidated cultural imprinting, and which are my gut telling me to pack my bags and run for the door.
If I'd known this three years ago I might not be a mother now.
So I guess I got something decent out of that particularly extreme expression of naïveté on my part.
Still, I'd rather have a reliable partner at hand if I ever find myself gestating life again. The child is a miracle, but I'd like to let someone else do the 3 am diaper changes once in a while.
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| i don't recognize myself......the baby does, but he's known me by voice first and foremost.
they took my braces off yesterday (for the second time.) My overbite has been corrected, my jawline reshaped, and i don't really recognize the woman in the mirror. creepy, how static my image of myself is.
odd, how much of personality we can imagine from the structure of bones in the face. i look a lot less soft. disconcertingly imposing.
who is that? is that really me?
funny. pregnancy, with it's titanic shifts in bulk and balance, didn't throw me off the way a little modification of my mouth does.
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| GenericI remember why I spent so much time haunting these environs. Useful feedback on present problems is a certain mental lifeline.
I forget that. I have a stubborn tendency to try to muscle through my frustrations on my own rather than "bother" others about them, which usually ends up with me feeling isolated and alone. Where a reasonably objective perspective combined with respect will bring to my attention ways in which I've allowed my perspective to become distorted.
Which brings me to the purpose of this post.
Why are so many of my stories the same plot?
Can we put together some new storylines?
I mean, the characters keep changing, and some of them are far more agreeable than others, but I'm tired of this story arc. Can't we structure our interactions differently?
I'm looking for inspiration and illumination. I don't have the time to remain caught in a net of self inflicted misery... mine or anyone else's. If I want a world with more magic in it, I first have to feed the magic in my own life, and sitting here watching you smother yourself will not further that.
So, I can feed the fires of soul. Words have power, as we all know, both in the subtle and in the basic- to awaken the mind, heart, and spirit to new potential.
I'll be who I am. I need to stop trying to do anything else. But I will also seek my balance, to locate and solidify.
I have no place for hope. That implicates the future in living up to expectations it never promised to meet. Plan, for certain. But I have no need to wrap myself around flickering what-if's. It would help to believe in beauty, though- to keep an eye for its presence in my life.
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| decades evaporatewent dancing this thursday. in a new incarnation of an old venue. the place i started my clubbing years back at the ripe ol' age of 18.
it held a strange deja vu. old memoriesfilled with almost mythic resonances overlaid by present experience.
felt much like the first time I walked in there, though i felt a million pounds lighter. because back then I was honestly terrified of people. not so much, now.
and the door's in the wrong place. and they didn't charge me nearly enough. though back then I was under 21, so it was a different set of rules anyway.
I found out that my knee is recovered enough that it wouldn't mutiny from a night of dancing. that i've been carrying around loads more tension than i should. and that i can dance most of it out.
that if i leave after the childling is asleep and return before the bars shut I both miss the drunks on the road (or the crowds of them, anyway) and the childling doesn't prematurely awake wondering where the hell his momma' is. and i have a good couple hours to myself.
that's magic. | | |
| Two Minutes of Silenceadbusters keeps coming up with good ideas ... | | |
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