Becoming "me"

[sKePTiKal]

Hops, I have those times too.

They start out, as a well-deserved "reward" -  then drag out into a type of inertia, until I get mad at myself and shame myself into doing "SOMETHING - ANYTHING"... and then I can start back in. Now, that's just the mental/emotional rut I drag myself through. Fact is, I'm not 40 anymore and because I'm still trying to work myself back "into shape" - I NEED the downtime.

My "better self" also knows that when "doing" a person needs to stop & look at what has already been accomplished, BREATHE, and ponder what should come next - in a type of "choose wisely" scenario, to get the biggest bang for my limited physical energy buck.

I am also really coming to grips with the fact that I am, and conceivably will be, ALONE now.

I don't want to listen to my own tapes anymore; so I replace it with long tv series or movies and books and feeling like it's important to "know what's going on in the world" - from the "safe" perch I have up on the mountain. (lots of internet time, searching for intelligent life - it's rare everywhere)

So, I have moments - like Lighter described - where words come out of my mouth and I'm not present enough to understand how I sound to someone else. I talk or type; just to say "I am"... I still exist.

Meanwhile the lists languish in their semi-sorted piles... the piles of "stuff" are still sitting where they were last "plunked"... and the only thing that motivates me to even go to the grocery store is I'm close to being out of soup & crackers or company coming over. I had visions of baking bread on that new island I coveted & treated myself to. But one person can't eat that much bread. LOL. Not without having to replace one's wardrobe.

My friend the "doc" and I still talk about this "transition" I'm going through. He suggested that I need to invent a whole new schedule for myself... and work out how much time I devote to "what" and "when" - building in those times to eat at regular times, bedtime, etc. The "pouty one" didn't like that idea much; she wanted free rein to exercise her "freedom" as a teenager - regardless of the consequences. Dumb kid. There's only so much of that a person can do before it gets boring.

She - of all people - should know that being committed to a project and fully engaged on "making something happen" is where both of us flourish. Either learning something new, practicing what we know, helping someone else learn... and that BOTH of us need that kind of interaction. To feel like we have a purpose in life. That we're important in the "wheel of life" enough to be kind to ourselves and take care of ourselves.

I'm babbling; but the outline in my previous post has "cracked the egg open". It's the gist of my struggle with interacting with other people, feeling comfortable in my own skin, and yet still navigating my own little boat through life.

I dunno. I have let myself open up to my new place... learning it's pace. Looking and trying to "see" what it could be. And in the process, let myself "stop" long enough to hear what's going on with me too. I know I needed the "stop" - even though other people wanted something different for and from me. And now a few trees are leafing out; I think I have a pair of nesting geese in the pond that are going to hatch their babies in a few weeks... and I'll have fuzzy goslings to watch grow.

PACING... and a new schedule (that's not engraved in stone and enforced by a draconian overlord mind or list)... might be just what is needed now.

My lists dream big. It always puts me into the position of chasing something I don't have the energy to keep up with. I've been paring those back, too. So that I build a foundation here of reliable services and shelter... BEFORE I plant daisies, lavender, peas and carrots.

When you're swept up in the big wave of "change" - it's sometimes hard to know exactly where you "are" and what you "can" do... of all the things one thinks "should" happen. You just have to wing it, do the best you can, and hope for the best outcome.

We did finally finish Mike's estate tax return last week. I guess it's at the post office and because today is a holiday, I'll get it sign it and send it back tomorrow. And I have the other taxes to collect info for and send up there too. There's all kinds of crazy snafus going on with the mortgage for the beach house... which I've kinda resigned myself to enduring, knowing full well the universe's ironic streak means I'll sell the house once I get that all straightened out.

The separate bank I use for mundane purchasing is being sold for the 3rd or 4th time. I need to deal with that Tuesday too - because I have a bunch of forms to get notarized to get the first little cabin's deed in just my name. THEN, except for Mike's magazine subscriptions I need to cancel... I'm DONE with all that. Then, perhaps, I'll really FEEL free to move on through my own stuff.

[sKePTiKal]

Bereft

There's an interesting word. That's often how I feel waking up, the day after there's been someone here. Whether it's the workmen I'm bringing over to sort out the things I can't (or choose not to try to) do properly... or friends looking for a refuge to vent, empty it all out, set burdens down and then SLEEP until they don't want to sleep anymore.

I'm left with myself - whatever floaty stuff is in my brain, echoes of dreams, and the cat.

And it would seem my internal judge finds that self pretty wanting. Not good enough. Someone who needs to be watched closely before they open their mouths and say something "stupid" or "politically incorrect"... and who can't be trusted to go about the requirements of living without someone watching over her shoulder to prevent any authentic emotional expressions to escape into the general atmosphere of this day.

God forbid it would make someone angry, or think less of me, or transgress the many thousands and millions of individual "offense triggers". Only carefully crafted, written statements of "being" allowed - or I'll be exiled to the Siberia of socially misfit children... locked away in a dark closet forever, invisible, so I don't horrify and upset the "nice" people, who "know how to act" (I guess in lieu of being authentically themselves)...

ie, I deserve to live alone in solitude because I am unfit for human interaction.

I dunno why the judge doesn't just scream "Burn the Witch!" and stop dancing around the burning bush.

Short. Sweet. To the point.

I can only conclude that this judge is a major Victorian prude with a corncob vying for space with the location of his five senses in a less-pleasant orifice. A judge whose system of values, holds ritual and rigid precedent as more important than common sense, mercy, and a shared sense of being part of humanity... as in, "there but for the grace of God, go I". Someone who DARES to stand in the place of the Creator and pick a number from 1-10 as to the value and worth of a person. In toto. Without even taking into consideration the "whole" of a person... and applying sentences, punishment and penance applicable to a major sin... to a minor offense.

A judge with no concept of proportion or scale.

I heard a new descriptive phase about people. Comes from a German friend of mine... "They're someone you could steal horses with". It means someone who's loyal, can do what is needed and keeps the shared secrets... and is FUN, daring, and not afraid to bend the rules. It's a great image. I would want someone like that to be a friend. Mike was a bit like that too.

It's 180 degrees from that old stuffy, stick in the mud judge in my head. (Sorry, mud - that was unintentional and not directed at you; just a turn of phrase.) OH... let me tapdance drunk through the minefield... cross canyons on the highwire... and sift pepper out of fly poop.

It's better than "bereft".

[Hopalong]

"...sift pepper out of fly poop"?

I LOVE you!

(Sorry for the lack of substance but I'm surfing for meaning and there I found it.)
Crazy with too much to do...

xo
Hops

[lighter]

Hmmmm, Amber.

That Judge of yours... in your head..... I think part your mom, part pouty child and all fear present and close at all times,  lurking in your sub conscious.  You're so bright and pragmatic..... you'd never let the Judge get away with that out in the open. 

In fact you spend a lot of time trying to prove the Judge wrong..... maybe.  Sure seems like that could be true.

 I think this saying fits.......
 "What we fear will find us."

We can't get to the unconscious demons through our frontal cortex.  There's no way to get there from that place.... and trying just makes things take longer, IME.   The path INTO our subconscious minds isn't as as scary as we fear it'll be.  Never as scary as the Judges and demons tell us they;ll be... they won't really kill us.

You're naming it.... this Judge/mother thing in your head,  and ... paying attention to what it has to say.  Noticing, observing instead of doing doing doing to fight it off, make it wrong, go away, leave you in peace.... which leads to spinning, not putting it behind us... just spinning in it.   Not helpful, IME.

Cultivating the ability to notice, and pay attention to our responses is....good.  Choosing something new is how to get around the demons maybe.  Letting them have their say, understanding why they say it, and not judging them... just giving our attention....refusing to spin. 

I'm curious what comes up for you next.... regarding the Judge in your head.  I think it keeps your brain locked in fearful clutch..... doesn't leave free space to engage other parts of the brain.

Maybe just noticing will provide the respite necessary for other parts of your brain to come on line, and take it's place?  At least for a while?  That's how I interpret my day of noticing my babble to the boarding school gal, the WHY around it then BAM!  Other parts of my brain just came online..... the switch in my brain flipped... at least for a while.

I am so resonating with this post, Amber.

Ah... I just burned a piece of butter slathered gf toast.... smoke.  Everywhere.  And you know what?  Two weeks ago that would have had me spinning.... I would have heard that Judge in my sub conscious shouting doubt about my ability to keep myself alive, my children alive, etc.  It would have tapped into my deepest fears, and shut me down. 

It didn't.

This is better.....
just burned toast. 

Not proof all will end in a giant hellball. 

This feels like huge progress to me.

:nodding::

Lighter







 

[sKePTiKal]

Maybe the ability to find "what's next" has become a petrified fossil. Outlasting, being more stubborn and more patient than the "judge" -- and indulging in a pouty, sit-down strike of massive passive-aggressive proportions... has turned the part of me that "wants" into the little Peruvian mummy girl that was sacrificed so long ago... and that was found by one of our Mountain Institute explorers some years back.

Fear is, in some cases, a valid motivator I think. I don't fear "fear itself". I was terrified of waking every morning and being surrounded by reminders of my losses at the beach house, for years on end. Talk about being mummified. I dealt with it - within what I calculated I could realistically do with some help. Change on the other hand; change invigorates me with life-energy. The conqueror spirit of Twiggy gets to unfurl itself and focus on something real, turning a fantasy-dream into reality... the essence of creativity.

So, the IRS will have Mike's estate tax return by the end of the day tomorrow. One more thing crossed off the list. But the very LAST piece of it was a major struggle & snafu. FedEx found the returns themselves in their Memphis office; the envelope was torn. I have a backup set arriving today! LOL. We're on the final days before the extension deadline.

That's kind of like typing "The End" on the last page of a manuscript. The epilogue consists of continuing to lighten my load under the 21 tons (literally) of stuff the movers relocated from "there" to "here". I spend a lot of time outside, because I still can't bear the claustrophobia feeling of the "stuff" inside. And I haven't found my pencil box yet... and don't even have a pen to make lists out in the studio. And I still have to drop my 1040 tax stuff in the mail - after I locate a few more things.

And then get serious about rethinking my estate stuff along with future planning for the business. My brother is AWOL again. And an insurance matter is still languishing as a result. But I don't really care enough about that to nag him.

I am attempting to simplify that kind of stuff - which I've come to despise - as much as possible.

Purpose, meaning, a sense of being "important" for my ego/monkey mind -- but not in the material success sense -- is coming up. Finding my new role... niche... in this life. Even if it's just bringing a sense of order the jumble of rocks here and being the steward of this little bowl shaped hollow on the side of a mountain.

A lot of my past interests mesh well with this place: herbs & food production, creating a self-perpetuating, regenerating "spot" on the earth from a rocky, barren, almost sterile starting point. Making things - practical & silly... and claiming the space where I am "Queen of the Mountain" (although I don't have dragons...). Where the animals don't fear me, nor do I disrupt their instinctive behaviors and patterns... with my other projects. Amber's Walden? Khalasar?

I'll need an army of "helpers" to get started I think. More social interaction will be good for me.

The winter was a good time to revisit these old neural "ruts in the road" that don't really go away - but simply continue to fade in their power over my ability to impact life around me. We have a series of warm days coming up. There aren't any bulbs here - no grape hyacinth, no daffs - and it seems inconceivable to me that no one thought to plant them among the impressive rocks. That's a fall project. But with spring comes a lot of bouncy, bright, and active energy again... doing energy... that distracts from polishing turds, picking pepper out of fly poop, and moves my focus to nesting at another level.

I am seeing more outspoken women - talking about how strong they are. All their descriptions of what makes them "incredible" are male attributes - the yang. They are ignoring the yin completely - caring, giving, the soft maternalism that just isn't natural for guys, although they can "go there" at times. I think there are going to be a whole lot of unhappy and lonely women in 40-50 years, as a result.

Not everything can be acquired by "conquering" or competing or over-compensating; there's a whole big bit of being that requires giving up, letting go, and just falling into. And you have to feel your way into that; thinking is the antithesis of it. Blindfolded. Trusting.

[lighter]

Hi Amber:

I'm really understanding one of your recent posts....
 where you wrote about going over and over your process verbally...
how it no longer is productive for you....
you'd been there, done that, and it just wasn't moving you forward like it had in the past.

THat's where I am, right here and now, even as I'm drawn to DOING DOING DOING things that will improve my day/year/life.....
intellectually they would, of course......
who wouldn't benefit from having an organized office where everything is in it's place?
Starting that children's book they've wanted to write, catching up taxes, and financial decisions, etc?

But I'm also aware that I'd just get more of what I've always gotten. The office would slide back into chaos, etc.....

 There's an expiration date on relief we manufacture....
when we're motivated by fear of what's been chasing us from our pasts......IME.  It doesn't last.

I want to build something lasting and rooted in the present.

::nodding::

I'll resist doing for now.


I just don't know exactly what I'll replace it with......
how to respond, or find a way to learn to respond...
circular thoughts, here....
I feel like I'm following a trail of bread crumbs while going deeper into the dark forest.

What's behind may not be good for me, but it's comforting bc it's what I know, and have always depended on.

Sure, it's harming me now, but...
the comfort of the devil we know.

We lose that.

I know I'll find new coping strategies.... the Alchemy, the relief and deliverance into being present in the moment.  It's down the path..... of course it is.

After a lot of thinking about that....

of what comes up for me around letting my old patterns go is....

what I'll LOSE if I turn them loose......

 if the familiar tension and anxiety in my body is gone,
which I've depended on since before I can remember.....

what is left....
 for me?

Of me?



It feels like my entire framework would fall away... what holds me erect in the world,
what I lean on....
 like my skeleton evaporating... POOF!

OW.

My mind won't even let me have that, and carry it through to a logical conclusion. 
WOULD I FALL?  

I could fall.

I could be untethered from the earth, and float into madness....
maybe?

Not likely,
sure, but.....
 

I don't want to live running from past fears that're no longer relevant in my life, and so I'll see what comes up next.

The journey continues.

Lighter

[Hopalong]

Lighter,
What you wrote reminded me of an anecdote I probably shared here years ago (this is what happens with aging board-mates) but I'll tell it again.

In a women's support group that launched me into drawing strength (instead of fear) from other women for the first time in my life, one participant was: sooo driven, sooo tense, sooo guarded, sooo traumatized by her past, sooo unbelieving in the love around her, sooo scarred, sooo courageous, sooo exhausted, sooo sooo sooo careful of what other people would think or judge that she barely opened up...

One day I said to her that she reminded me of a Viet Nam vet, come home, who didn't viscerally realize he was now in peacetime.

It was the first time I saw how deep listening could reach someone. And it was transformative for both of us, that moment.

I hear what you're doing, what you want to do. The only thought that rises to the surface is, you can't force this, plan it, outline it on a list, shape it to your will. The kind of healing you're talking about, I think, will come from trusting. Not specific people or teachers or the next special therapy. But trusting yourself IN life. Not OVER life.

Yourself, in life. Trusting life in you...letting it thrive even when you don't know how.

Hugs,
Hops

[Hopalong]

((((Amber)))--

Now that some of the adrenalin rush of the move is ebbing a little, other things are seeping into the canyon of change you've walked bravely into. Fear is natural and okay. Grief too.

I wonder if you're looking hard for explanations of everything. Who is this sole woman in the mountains? Mainly, I hear you always asking under a very confident narrative...do I have a right to be here? Do I have a right not to know so many answers? Do I have a right to be lost with faith? Do I have a right to steer with one hand instead of two? To float and trust that the shape this takes will have beauty?

Beauty doesn't mean a perfect plan. Sometimes beauty is also rough and fierce. But then gentle life breaks through rock and the tender green is a miracle.

I think YOU deserve that gentle nurturing mothering, and that your critiques of women in general, or feminists, are a deflection from the self-love and tenderness you need to give yourself. And how deeply deserved it is.

I'm starting to see you as a sweet spirit wearing chiffon under motorcycle leathers. I've been bingeing on Project Runway, however.

Hugs,
Hops

[lighter]

Hops, I'm picturing Amber puttering around her mountain homestead in a chiffon shift and jeans, under a black leather motorcycle jacket.

I like it.

::nodding::

Thanks for sharing the story again... I don't remember that one, although things you've shared here pop up often as I move through my day.

Recently I've been going over some of Amber's older threads, and I recognize issues I'd dealing with now.  They didn't resonate then, perhaps, but they sure do now. 

Thank you Hops, and Amber for being so active on the board.  I truly am grateful to you, and all the members who've shared their lessons, experiences, joys and sorrows. 

Thank you for creating this amazing space, Doc G.

I've learned so much here.

Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

Hmmm... maybe something in a soft teal or coral silk, instead of chiffon. Or fuzzy cashmere. And actually, I've found some very comfortable - and wearable! - clothing that looks good on women of a certain age. Most of it's linen or cotton. Very simple clothing, but flattering.

Hops, you know I'm projecting a lot don't you? Because I've gone to great lengths to deny my own feminine self, out of a warped sense of "protecting myself". That said, this level of life-changing experience has me appreciating that part of me more than ever. And I still am a fierce protector of "her"... but in totally different ways now.

It was the ability of wading into the depths of the grief; to wear out the feelings - and know when it was time too move on - that was exceedingly helpful to me. No fear of that; but perhaps a fear of being judged over my decision to not live surrounded by the memories of "what was" - as if there is a blessed thing I could do change the things that happened by magically paying homage to it for the rest of my life. Blech. I don't like "boxes"; the Twiggy scenario does NOT need to be repeated.

Am ruminating on some big deals... attempting to answer definitively for myself...

was Twiggy more authentic than the me that got frankensteined together "after" her trauma subsided? (Strangely enough - given her weird parenting situation - I'm really NOT SURE she WAS. And she seems to be glad I've finally realized that.)

Does it matter if I am what Twiggy wanted to be - "before"? (Having gone through this past year's just as significant life events - together - I think there are things she might let go; conversely - there are things I want to re-attain.) And of course the really big deal...

Is there any need... or reason... to keep using this shorthand of the girl "Twiggy" anymore? Aren't we one & the same and share the same memories? Experiences? Emotions? Isn't that simply a chapter in the book of my life that I've been creating by living it?

There's a lot of nodding going on over here.

I am more free now - to express that side of myself; give myself permission without having to beg forgiveness of some other person external to me to explore things that both aspects of myself enjoy and are interested in. We "own" the same predilections and preferences (although my taste in men is a lot more educated and refined than hers... LOL) with some small variations.

Something monumental has shifted; over the past few days I've started to NOTICE. Just like I finally noticed the one lonely little clump of daffodils at the edge of the drive.

I've always "reinvented" myself - designed a new life - around another person and their likes/dislikes and value-system reality. What a great time for me (and Twiggy) to find we can go on & use this opportunity to suit my self. Knowing we'll try things and reject them; we'll screw some things up; and I have the ability to make the right decisions to keep moving forward.

Being still, listening, waiting, resting... is not the same as being "stuck". Not caring if I perfectly master something on the "want to" list immediately... as long as I'm TRYING... is also another "load off"; another burden I don't have to carry. When I put myself in a position to NEED permission from someone else, I ACCEPTED a LIMITATION that doesn't exist in reality.

It started to really piss me off that I was letting the "dominos" - the things I needed to do first, before I could start the thing I really WANTED to do - stop me in my tracks. Couldn't sort out what the problem was... since I'm process-oriented enough to understand you can't go putting the cart in front of the horse and actually get anywhere. So today I tackled gathering the info needed to get some more of those dominos out the way. Tomorrow is soon enough to deal with them.

Then I should be free of the paperwork, tax, legal hoop dominos. And I can indulge in the fully-focused, flow of "making space"... and making this place "just right". All the major "bones" are good and it's a very pleasant space already. But there is room for improvement. I'm antsy to get started.

[lighter]

Bereft

There's an interesting word. That's often how I feel waking up, the day after there's been someone here. Whether it's the workmen I'm bringing over to sort out the things I can't (or choose not to try to) do properly... or friends looking for a refuge to vent, empty it all out, set burdens down and then SLEEP until they don't want to sleep anymore.

I'm left with myself - whatever floaty stuff is in my brain, echoes of dreams, and the cat.

And it would seem my internal judge finds that self pretty wanting. Not good enough. Someone who needs to be watched closely before they open their mouths and say something "stupid" or "politically incorrect"... and who can't be trusted to go about the requirements of living without someone watching over her shoulder to prevent any authentic emotional expressions to escape into the general atmosphere of this day.

God forbid it would make someone angry, or think less of me, or transgress the many thousands and millions of individual "offense triggers". Only carefully crafted, written statements of "being" allowed - or I'll be exiled to the Siberia of socially misfit children... locked away in a dark closet forever, invisible, so I don't horrify and upset the "nice" people, who "know how to act" (I guess in lieu of being authentically themselves)...

ie, I deserve to live alone in solitude because I am unfit for human interaction.

I dunno why the judge doesn't just scream "Burn the Witch!" and stop dancing around the burning bush.

Short. Sweet. To the point.

I can only conclude that this judge is a major Victorian prude with a corncob vying for space with the location of his five senses in a less-pleasant orifice. A judge whose system of values, holds ritual and rigid precedent as more important than common sense, mercy, and a shared sense of being part of humanity... as in, "there but for the grace of God, go I". Someone who DARES to stand in the place of the Creator and pick a number from 1-10 as to the value and worth of a person. In toto. Without even taking into consideration the "whole" of a person... and applying sentences, punishment and penance applicable to a major sin... to a minor offense.

A judge with no concept of proportion or scale.





It's better than "bereft".

This post, Amber......
The noticing you're doing.... all these things are coming up for attention, imo.

  You can call these pieces Twiggy or the one who doesn't feel accepted, but they need your presence and curiosity I think. 
Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

They're getting that attention, Lighter.

Which is why I think I've had this sudden (although it took months to get here) clearing. It's not all clear enough to be verbalized yet...

but one of the biggest clues was the word "internalized". And understanding, finally, just what that experience feels like inside and then asking the right questions... and listening to the answers.

[lighter]

I know those issues are getting your attention, Amber.

Sometimes I think I'm talking to myself..... more than I'm telling you something you don't already know.

I'm trying to know it too: )

Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

Yesterday, I started out to try explaining some of what I've been processing about "internalization", "self" and my slightly odd experience of "co-dependence" (not rare; just not what we usually mean by the word). And I thought I'd found a really good psych dictionary... to start from a precise definition, to talk about it. Then, the cyber gods made it go poof... and I went in other directions. Plus, I'm having ANOTHER conversation with someone else about this... so I guess, while it's definitely bubbling up (needs a litttle eye of newt)... it's not quite ready to be talked about explicitly.

Just about lunch time the realtor calls, to check in about activity on the beach house. House was being shown again... and there was an offer from a couple who'd been there 3 times. They have kids, from Texas (that's a big move) and they made an offer I'd be silly to refuse. Sure, I'd have liked to sell it for more money. But it's close enough to the magic number I decided was how low I'd accept - that I signed it. They have a pre-qual letter, specified 45 days to meet underwriting requirements, and they don't need a home inspection. Close in 60 days.

Oh... and they specifically wanted the big round table I bought for the kitchen banquette. I finally got the cushions made for it last year about this time. Between that and the big pool... I think we set the stage pretty well. I didn't really have a place here for that table anyway - much as I loved it.

So by May - I'll be done with all the crazy snafus on the mortgage, insurance, and all the maintenance/upkeep that place requires. I'll have working capital to actually DO the things I've discovered need doing, here - and at my little cabin - over the last 4 months. And probably a little more, too... since I won't have that mortgage payment/utilities going out every month.

And I should be celebrating... but this is one of those bittersweet "closures". More Mike, all the fun times we had, and the satisfaction of how a plan comes together. Mike & I planned to live there 10 years - just to do it and say we did. Always knew it was too big, wouldn't make sense as we got older. And he started being really homesick; there were a whole batch of guys he went to school with, raced cars with, was "bad boys" with... that started dying. That's why we bought the little cabin. To be closer and not have such a long drive from "home". He just ran out of time.

So over the next couple months, I get to process that this really IS IT; the last page in that chapter - the end. And we're moving on into the next one too. Where I started this update; the introspection into those topics... is the main focus right now. Untangling all the jumbled stuff - the threads of yarn in the messy ball - and putting all that "to rights" will get to be the foundation for the "what comes next" on the list. Whatever that turns out to be.

[Hopalong]

Oh ((((((((((Amber))))))))))).

I completely understand the poignancy of selling the beach house.
And at the same time, I'm so glad for you. (I had fears that climate change
might mean it'd be much harder to sell.) I'm so glad this has happened.

I admire how observant and insightful you are about your own transitions
as you go through them. I know you anchor in the details but your non-monkey
(shall we say giraffe) mind doesn't miss a thing. You have wonderful perspective, imo.

So kudos and relief for the practical new freedom, and kindness for the heart-twang.

love,
Hops