I just got off the phone from talking with my Dad, then Butch Holsey, then Lukas. Wow. That is a lot of intense familial contact in one session. I spent over an hour on the phone. It was fantastic.
Talking with my Dad was a bit stinted. He has his jargon, and that's pretty much how he speaks anymore. It sucks, but there were moments where is was just me talking to my Dad, albeit estranged. I was really glad to be able to tell him I'm doing so well. He seems to have a pattern going that works for him, something I'd probably call a rut, but if he's happy then I'm happy for him. What I wonder about, though is if he's really happy, or if he even really knows what that is anymore.
Butch, sort of my surrogate dad from forever ago, is in town with his new wife for some old friends of the family (The Blivens) 50th wedding anniversary. We've had a special bond since I was a tiny little girl, and he loves me. It was fantastic hearing all the things I wish my dad had said coming out of his mouth, things like "as long as you're safe and happy." He talked about his culture (growing up black & in the south) and how that influences his thinking about family, and now I think I know where I got so many of my values. He lives in California, we exchanged numbers, and he told me if I ever needed anything to call him. Even if sometimes it feels like "what could we possibly have in common anymore?" it's amazing to know there is someone out there willing to cross that chasm consistently over and over again. There is a picture on the Sunflower House snack kitchen fridge door that I drew one night that I was nearly too drunk to remember having drawn it, and it is of Butch's face. What a positively fantastic person.
Lukas (my nephew) came in while I was on the phone with Butch, so I got to talk to him for a while. He speaks a little strangely and stilted, but I'll give you a few guesses where that comes from. He opened up to me about a falling out with his mom (my sister, who I also happen to have a falling out with at the moment). I think I said things I'm proud of with reference to that, both validating his feelings, not disrespecting his mother, but being realistic, and understanding that this whole thing could be made up. Lukas has been known to do that. I got his number again (I lost it in the last phone smashing) and promised to call tomorrow to see about his coming to stay here over some break.
So, wow, I reconnected with some family. I'm kind of glad my mom wasn't there. I would have been too tempted to talk to her, and she is really the hardest to talk to with out unhealthy patterns cropping up. Maybe I'll try talking to dad again sometime, but I doubt he'll ever be able to talk like Butch does, so I'm glad I talked with Butch.
That's about it. It'll be a while before I've gotten enough space and perspective to know if there's anything else I think about all this.
Oh! And by the way - I've pretty much quit my therapist. She wasn't helping out much anyway. Yahoo!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Moments of clarity on a brisk night
I've been having conversations with a friend lately. Tonight was our second one. They begin by talking about sexual issues & consent and end up a little further from the center of the map. Honestly, I whine a lot about my problems with the human condition and she tries to give me some perspective. It's less authoritative than going to my therapist, and far more helpful. In fact, I'm thinking about quitting therapy, at least temporarily; if it's taught me anything it's that I usually have most of the answers, and the ones I don't have can generally be summed up in the word "patience." Life is a journey; slow down & enjoy the scenery. Tonight I got that.
At our conversation tonight I focused on being real, honest, in the moment, and relaxed. It didn't happen the whole time, but just often enough to make a difference. We were talking about that painful & precarious situation when you have "feelings" for someone and they don't exactly return them. In fact, they're not interested. But say you still have a relationship of some sort: friends, housemates, workmates, neighbors, student/teacher, etc.? You can't simply avoid the person and, let's face it, you don't really want to. In fact, you can't help staring dreamily at the other person as they scrape the encrusted eggs off the plate they've had sitting in their room for the last three weeks; you begin to imagine them scraping the eggs off a plate in your dream cabin in the woods, the kids playing outside and, of course, having wild passionate sex right there in the kitchen. You know the way they smell, the mole on the back of their thigh, and you can practically feel them nibbling on your ear.
Snap back to reality, though, and suddenly you realize the chasm separating the relationship you're having with this person in your head and the actual relationship you have with this person in real life. And it's conspicuously lacking in passionate sexual encounters in the kitchen. The thing is, while it's perfectly okay to have fantasies about whatever floats your boat & gets you off, you're only making the present situation worse by feeding a romance that simply is not happening. It isn't. Say it to yourself. I am not having sex with this person. I am not snuggling up against them in the middle of the night and feeling the coldness of my nose in that warm area around the back of their neck. I've never even actually felt that area of their neck and, for all I know, it could not even exist. We did not just escape to Paris last weekend, and it is terribly unlikely that I will ever carry their child. I will never have to worry about introducing them to my parents or meeting theirs. Chances are good we will never, ever, ever kiss. Our relationship isn't within 700 miles of being anything like this.
But it's not all bad. While you've been dwelling on all the things you're not doing (and turning them into wet dreams), you're entirely missing what part you do play in each other's lives. You're taking them for granted. And that's a shame because someone to split the bills with or say "hi" to when you pass in the park or to teach you valuable information and answer questions about something you're interested in is not chopped liver. That has value too, not just hot kitchen sex (which isn't happening, by the way).
So this is the long drawn out version of just a short part of our conversation, but it obviously stuck with me and packed a hard punch. And to tell you the truth, to see all that fantasy fly out the door was a huge relief. Talk about a one-sided relationship! Reality's a hard thing to get used to living in all the time especially when so much of my life has been lived and nurtured in a complete fantasy (I'm not just talking about the sexual kind here). Tonight I made a point of being here, there, wherever I was at that point and just taking it for what it was and, though it was sometimes hard or fleeting, I kept coming back to it & finding it easier every time. I bumped into my biology lab instructor who I have a decent-sized crush on, so tonight had it's challenges. But a few (hundred) more times to practice, and I think I might have this down.
Anyway, things felt a good bit clearer tonight on & off and that's well worth reporting for me.
At our conversation tonight I focused on being real, honest, in the moment, and relaxed. It didn't happen the whole time, but just often enough to make a difference. We were talking about that painful & precarious situation when you have "feelings" for someone and they don't exactly return them. In fact, they're not interested. But say you still have a relationship of some sort: friends, housemates, workmates, neighbors, student/teacher, etc.? You can't simply avoid the person and, let's face it, you don't really want to. In fact, you can't help staring dreamily at the other person as they scrape the encrusted eggs off the plate they've had sitting in their room for the last three weeks; you begin to imagine them scraping the eggs off a plate in your dream cabin in the woods, the kids playing outside and, of course, having wild passionate sex right there in the kitchen. You know the way they smell, the mole on the back of their thigh, and you can practically feel them nibbling on your ear.
Snap back to reality, though, and suddenly you realize the chasm separating the relationship you're having with this person in your head and the actual relationship you have with this person in real life. And it's conspicuously lacking in passionate sexual encounters in the kitchen. The thing is, while it's perfectly okay to have fantasies about whatever floats your boat & gets you off, you're only making the present situation worse by feeding a romance that simply is not happening. It isn't. Say it to yourself. I am not having sex with this person. I am not snuggling up against them in the middle of the night and feeling the coldness of my nose in that warm area around the back of their neck. I've never even actually felt that area of their neck and, for all I know, it could not even exist. We did not just escape to Paris last weekend, and it is terribly unlikely that I will ever carry their child. I will never have to worry about introducing them to my parents or meeting theirs. Chances are good we will never, ever, ever kiss. Our relationship isn't within 700 miles of being anything like this.
But it's not all bad. While you've been dwelling on all the things you're not doing (and turning them into wet dreams), you're entirely missing what part you do play in each other's lives. You're taking them for granted. And that's a shame because someone to split the bills with or say "hi" to when you pass in the park or to teach you valuable information and answer questions about something you're interested in is not chopped liver. That has value too, not just hot kitchen sex (which isn't happening, by the way).
So this is the long drawn out version of just a short part of our conversation, but it obviously stuck with me and packed a hard punch. And to tell you the truth, to see all that fantasy fly out the door was a huge relief. Talk about a one-sided relationship! Reality's a hard thing to get used to living in all the time especially when so much of my life has been lived and nurtured in a complete fantasy (I'm not just talking about the sexual kind here). Tonight I made a point of being here, there, wherever I was at that point and just taking it for what it was and, though it was sometimes hard or fleeting, I kept coming back to it & finding it easier every time. I bumped into my biology lab instructor who I have a decent-sized crush on, so tonight had it's challenges. But a few (hundred) more times to practice, and I think I might have this down.
Anyway, things felt a good bit clearer tonight on & off and that's well worth reporting for me.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
This horse is too high
There's a zine I have at home Krys gave me a long time ago. It's called "Dysfunction Junction" and it has all kind of information I agree with related to people connecting to each other and society in general. One thing it says, though, that I've had trouble practicing is "It's okay to pick & choose your friends, but judge not."
Today, after getting pretty annoyed with Sunflower Bike shop, I headed over to Jefferson's for some crayfish & fried pickles. Both of the outside tables were occupied, one surrounded by girls, the other with jut one guy at it. I wanted to sit outside pretty badly (at least partly to read for school), so I figured he might not mind sharing a table. The waitress at the bar confirmed that (he works there). When I asked, he was pretty friendly, which was nice. This is not a story about him, but rather the girls at the other table.
They were the sorority type: bleached hair (2/4), thin, fashionably dressed, whining about nothing to each other. I couldn't help listening in a little bit as one chatted on her cell phone; really, it was nearly impossible not to eavesdrop given her volume & tone. I was just beginning to sneer when I realized nearly anybody could be having the conversation she was having; the speech patterns were all that were different, a sign of her culture. This was the first moment of cohesion.
The girls continued to chat: some mild drama they were turning into something bigger. I applaud the guy for not being dragged into it when they tried, though that may just be 'appropriate male activity.' That topic died down as it became apparent (more from the way they teased each other than any major loss of composure) that they were drunk, one girl more than the others.
The drunkest girl was, by far, though, the nicest & most outgoing. She mentioned that one girl (not at the table) tended to embarass everyone, but that the embarassing activities also endeared her to everyone. Maybe she was speaking from experience. Many dressed up people started to walk by, groups in quick succession, some of the more dressed-up women with small boquets. Emily (or was it Amanda? - she introduced herself later) started offering her congratulations to anyone obviously in the wedding party (despite the conspicuous absense of any bride). She pulled the waitress back when she noticed I wanted another beer. She introduced herself, asked about my book, and offered suggestions for some she'd recently read (admitting they were the only two she'd read in a year). She'd just graduated KU, and asked about my major. One of her other friends felt obligated to mention her name in the introductions, though without any tangible warmth. Conversely, Emily/Amanda reached out to shake my hand & smiled.
Do I expect these girls to say hi next time we pass in the street? No, I don't even expect them to remember me. Obviously, I can't even remember their names. But for that moment, two people really unlikely to ever communicate or connect did. And for that, I have "Dysfunction Junction," beer, and a desire against fragmentation to thank.
Today, after getting pretty annoyed with Sunflower Bike shop, I headed over to Jefferson's for some crayfish & fried pickles. Both of the outside tables were occupied, one surrounded by girls, the other with jut one guy at it. I wanted to sit outside pretty badly (at least partly to read for school), so I figured he might not mind sharing a table. The waitress at the bar confirmed that (he works there). When I asked, he was pretty friendly, which was nice. This is not a story about him, but rather the girls at the other table.
They were the sorority type: bleached hair (2/4), thin, fashionably dressed, whining about nothing to each other. I couldn't help listening in a little bit as one chatted on her cell phone; really, it was nearly impossible not to eavesdrop given her volume & tone. I was just beginning to sneer when I realized nearly anybody could be having the conversation she was having; the speech patterns were all that were different, a sign of her culture. This was the first moment of cohesion.
The girls continued to chat: some mild drama they were turning into something bigger. I applaud the guy for not being dragged into it when they tried, though that may just be 'appropriate male activity.' That topic died down as it became apparent (more from the way they teased each other than any major loss of composure) that they were drunk, one girl more than the others.
The drunkest girl was, by far, though, the nicest & most outgoing. She mentioned that one girl (not at the table) tended to embarass everyone, but that the embarassing activities also endeared her to everyone. Maybe she was speaking from experience. Many dressed up people started to walk by, groups in quick succession, some of the more dressed-up women with small boquets. Emily (or was it Amanda? - she introduced herself later) started offering her congratulations to anyone obviously in the wedding party (despite the conspicuous absense of any bride). She pulled the waitress back when she noticed I wanted another beer. She introduced herself, asked about my book, and offered suggestions for some she'd recently read (admitting they were the only two she'd read in a year). She'd just graduated KU, and asked about my major. One of her other friends felt obligated to mention her name in the introductions, though without any tangible warmth. Conversely, Emily/Amanda reached out to shake my hand & smiled.
Do I expect these girls to say hi next time we pass in the street? No, I don't even expect them to remember me. Obviously, I can't even remember their names. But for that moment, two people really unlikely to ever communicate or connect did. And for that, I have "Dysfunction Junction," beer, and a desire against fragmentation to thank.
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