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Posts Tagged ‘intentional self’

Those were the words that followed me home last Thursday.

I haven’t posted here in quite some time.  I just really haven’t felt like I had anything important to say, and that my blog had become some kind of me, me, me drivel.  Not what I wanted.  So I’ve pulled back.

Recently, though, a few things have brought me back to a place of feeling like I have something important to say.  So quick catch up.  By now, if you’ve read much of my blog, you know that the main focus I have is about fearless living, and not letting anxiety or uncertainty stop me from doing the things I know are my path.  I’ve zeroed in on intentional, deliberate, “create your own best world” behaviors, and bless the Goddess, it works!  Over the past couple of years, I have found a womon who I wake up every morning feeling more grateful for than the last; I have and am making friends who are interested in real intimacy.  I have ditched my house and moved to a pedestrian-friendly, super active, unique kind of town that also has a deliberate vision for itself, and I’ve committed to being that pedestrian who uses mass transit to get her places.  My work rejuvenates me.  I travel, with or without companions.  And I make time for the activities I love and the ones that are good for me.  I forgive myself for mistakes.  My life is so unbelievable!  And every big thing has come by baby steps.  Even the scary ones.  I am living the life I designed – but then you are too! (That’s something to think about, eh?)

So, what does this have to do with hearing those startling words?  Well, I’ll tell you.  I have always felt that I had firm moral convictions, liberal political opinions, and a sort of  covenant with my community to help uphold common values.  Most days, that means picking up some litter, or offering the homeless guy a breakfast.  It means greeting strangers with a smile, direct look in the eye, and a pleasant, “Hello.”  It’s a commitment that is very important to me.

So, Thursday, I get off the train coming back from work.  It’s about 4:00.  Across the street from the station is a park that I usually cut through to get home.  I’m walking beside this older guy in his late fifties.

As we walk, I notice that there is a group of about fifty highschool students standing in a large circle in the park.  I say to the guy beside me, “Is that a fight going on there?”  He doesn’t acknowledge me, but veers down the hill toward the group.  When he realizes that, yes, indeed, it is a fight, he turns and walks the other way.

Oh, but not me!  I storm right up through the crowd saying in a loud and firm voice, “What is going on here?” (You know that voice your mother used with you when she caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing.)  The scene in front of me was the saddest thing I have ever personally witnessed.  One young man had another in a headlock and was punching him repeatedly with upper cuts to the face.  You could see blood fly and hear the wet smack every time he landed a punch.  The other boy was trying so hard to get away.  The kids were cheering and laughing watching him being beaten down.   I totally went into playground teacher mode and  marched right up to them demanding, “What are you thinking?!” 

Now let me give you a little visual.  Here I am, a 48-year-old womon of size, in a screaming orange dress that may be a little too small (and has a rip in the skirt), wearing a bright green backpack, and Chacos.  I didn’t have time to wash my hair that morning, so it’s a little flat, and as usual, I have no make-up on.  Not really the look of authority.  But unbelievably, these boys stop.  And I am grateful, because the boy who was being pounded was so covered in blood.  His nose looked sideways on his face, and I watched him spit out a tooth.  He looked scared.

Everything was quiet for a second or two.  There were three of us standing there in the middle of that gang of kids.  Each boy I made eye contact with looked a little abashed.  And then my golden moment was broken.  A girl, a girl, screamed, “Bitch!  Go away and let us get back to our fight!” and threw something that hit me in the shoulder.  I didn’t look at  her.  I didn’t look to see what was thrown.  But I was suddenly afraid.  I could tell by the “oooohs” that gang mentality was emboldening these kids.  A few more girls started screaming at me.  My cell phone was in the back pocket of my backpack and I couldn’t reach it without taking the backpack off.  All of the wise, “this is not the way” words that were forming in my head suddenly ducked for cover, and all I could come up with was, “You know what?  FINE!”  and I walked away.  I didn’t run, and I didn’t look back, and I was terrified.  But when I got about fifty paces away, I did stop.  I did get out my cell, and I did call 911.  The kids had been watching me walk away, yelling and screaming, and when they saw me on the phone, they scattered.  By the time the police said they would drive by, not a child was around. 

The absolute worst part of this, the part that is so horrific to me, is that almost every one of the teenagers witnessing this fight had their cell phones out and were recording it.  Not one of them was calling 911.  They were more concerned with the potential YouTube value.

What will become of us if the almost womyn of our society cheer for violence, as if it is a spectacle put on for their pleasure, instead of working for peace?  This is what keeps me up at night.  The ringing, high-pitched voices of angry teen girls shouting, “Bitch!” at me because I stopped the violence.  Guess I’ll be walking with cell phone in hand from now on.

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Another interesting meta-phrase, “I miss you.”  Was talking about this with a friend who was feeling particularly lonely and said those words.  Followed by something to the effect that saying so seemed needy, didn’t it?

Now, let me go back to the truth that communication is never as clear-cut as we would like it to be.  I say something, or write something, or even move my body and the first thing that happens, even before I do any of those things, is that my mind considers my purpose, my audience, what I know of that audience, and what kinds of response I have received in similar situations with others and with the intended audience.  All of these filters come together to help me choose the way I convey my message.  And then my message hits your filters.  I can say ‘your’ in this case, since you (whoever you are) are reading this.  And those same filters come into play, except from your perspective.  So, really, do we ever communicate exactly what we want to communicate?  Ah, too big a question for me!

But back to ‘I miss you.”  I have a pretty standard overall feeling about the receiving of that meta-phrase.  It’s a compliment.  It says, “You are important to me.  I want to spend time with you.  I enjoy your company.  You bring me joy.”  Why else would we miss? As the receiver,  ‘I miss you’ are words that I enjoy hearing.  It makes me think about the giver and often spurs me to find a way to make more real time with them.  Because, honestly, I miss them too.

But now to the perspective of the ‘sender’.  I think that all of the above apply in any situation of saying, “I miss you.”  But emotional state is a big factor.  When we are doing something that we know the other person would love, we might give them an ‘I miss you,’ because we want them to have that fun experience.  Or when we’re doing something that we think we would enjoy more if that person were there, we can have an ‘I miss you’ moment.  Both of those are happy and celebratory of that person. 

But when we’re feeling low and/or sad, it’s a natural tendency to think about what external things would make us happy.  Often it’s a good friend or lover.  Connecting then and letting them know you miss them feels weak or wrong or needy because we’re not in great shape.  But really, let’s look at that.  The people who are important in our lives are important because we can turn to them.  Because they support us through everything – the good and the bad.  And to recognize that – they’ve helped us feel good, shared their joy –  to want that when we are down, isn’t that normal? 

What a gift to give someone!  You enhance my life.  Thinking about you makes me smile and right now, I could use a smile.  I miss you.  I would feel better than I do right now, if you were here.  It would help me get out of my own way.  Telling someone you miss them is not a demand for time or attention.   In this case, it’s an acknowledgement of not feeling good and one possible solution.  It’s still a celebration of that person.

Okay, so, ‘I miss you’ has been sent, it has been received and now the reaction.  This is where needy, greedy, happy, grateful – judgements come in. 

As I have been writing this, I’ve been thinking of anther friend who has just gone through a really sad break-up.  It came as a surprise to her and she has had a hard time really believing.  Her ex would probably even say that the deluge of texts, e-mails, snail mails, etc. would amount to stalking.  And every one of those communications had some form of  ‘I miss you.’ 

So, as I’m writing this, I’m also thinking about that, and what I’m writing is losing form and purpose, because I’m writing about people who care about one another, and who want to spend time together, but I’m writing as if my truths about this meta-phrase were universal and then I’m trying to accommodate the ‘I miss you’ that is not a reciprocated feeling.  so.

I think what I’ve come up with in my muddle is that I still believe ‘I miss you.’ is a compliment.  I still believe all of the things I have written about it.  Whether one takes the compliment or not, is up to them.  But the needy part, the part that feels ookie to the receiver is not the I miss you, but the rest of the message – “What is wrong with me? I can change.  Please come back.”  All there, although maybe not in those exact words.  We mix the compliment with the tragic lack of self-esteem and have that, “Ew!  Yuck!  Get away from me now!” feeling.

Remember when I talked about our filters?  I think we’ve all had the ‘I miss you’ around a lost partner or friend.  I know I have, and I’ve had the ‘I can change’ feeling too.  And I’ve communicated it.  I think that’s where my friend was coming from when she said something to the effect of ‘sounds kind of needy, doesn’t it?’  We start to associate missing someone with them not wanting to be around us.  So the more important someone is, the less we want to reveal that they are.  Because if you are important and I want to be around you, you are going to leave me because wanting you around (or to be around you) is needy.  And nobody likes needy or clingy.  How sad that our experiences can be so convoluted that we become guarded with our joy in each other. 

I know I’m just beginning to unlearn it.  It’s a part of an intentional life.  A life not ruled by fear.  And so to my very best friends, (and I know you’ll get this message) “I always miss you.  You help me be the best womon that I am, and you make me feel more alive.  I wish that I could spend so much more time with you because of who you are and who I am when I’m with you.  There is richness in our togetherness that I cannot find anywhere else and I carry it with me when we are apart.  I love you.”

lifetimes

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connections and space Peace PagodaI was talking with a friend the other day (okay, we were emailing and the last installment was yesterday) and we were discussing the need for space.  Physical space, to be alone, all alone, especially when you’re in a deeply intimate relationship.  And not just any space – space that feels like it’s yours.  She had asked me a while back which be more difficult – admitting I missed my girl, or realizing that I really don’t.  I totally misunderstood the question and thought it was about the demise of a relationship, but it was really about space.

It’s funny that we are taught that humans are such social creatures, because most of the people I hang with have real boundaries about how much time they want to spend in the company of others.  Including me.  And I sometimes feel guilty about my need to be all by myself.  Being in a long distance relationship means that I do miss her all the time, like the sound of a brook through the bedroom window.  Sometimes it’s fully present and all I can focus on, and sometimes it’s not even noticed.  I find that I don’t notice the missing when I’m engaged in something I want to do.  Being alone is often what I want to do.

In past relationships, my partners haven’t understood the need to have space for a day or a week, or even an hour.  And not just, “I want to be in another room from you,”  but, “I want you to go shopping without me and do lunch and let me have this space empty except for me for at least 2 hours, please.”  Somehow that seemed personal to them.  So I have spent many years fighting for the right to have space.  And accommodating my partner’s needs to have my presence.

That’s something that is different now.  In this relationship, maybe because we took it so slow, maybe because the distance is so great, maybe because we are so very intentional with each other, and check in at every point, I have freedom.  I know and have experienced the, “I need space alone and it’s not about you.”  From both sides.  And it works really well.

To be honest, the first time I was on the receiving end (she needed space), I said all the right things and did all the right things, but it was such a different experience that I had to sit and really process that it wasn’t about me, and I didn’t have to get insecure or needy.  And I didn’t need to share that processing with her.  Huh.  Okay, maybe I went through that a couple of times.  But one thing I know is true – we are our actions.  And  my actions were loving and respectful and what I wanted to receive when I needed space.  And so, I grew up and was open to being able to trust her a little bit more.  (Which is scary and leads to the need for more space!)

One of the things I wonder about needing space is why.  I’ve come up with a couple of things and I think in different moments they are all valid.  Gonna’ bullet these, because I probably want to come back and explore them more deeply later.

  • I find I have a greater need for space the more intimate I become with someone.  It’s new territory and hits all my trust buttons, and I get worn out, unsure, and afraid. 
  • Sometimes I need to be able to be me without feeling like there might be even the slightest chance of judgement.  Indulging in popcorn for dinner, or the cheesy movie I would never admit that I had seen.
  • I like me and need a date with me every once in a while.
  • Sometimes (and this is going to sound weird) I sit and savor the lonely.  Makes me more grateful.

My biggest gratitude today is that I have this freedom with my love and she has it with me.  It makes us strong and allows us trust.  I most deeply appreciate that my friends are on this same path of healthy investigation and growth.  We can talk objectively and emotionally about this stuff and in that process, I get the gift of being more available to trust and intimacy with them, too.  Maybe I will be a social creature one day! Ha!

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house for saleA couple of years ago, I wrote a post called Leaving This Life.  It was about really examining where you are, who you are and whether or not the compromises you’ve made in your life have taken you so far from your intended path that you aren’t able to fully live as the person you know yourself to be.  It was a post full of joy and wonder, excitement and self-awareness.  It was a call to change – not just change –  intentional change.

Well, it’s been two years now, and the thing that strikes me is that while I haven’t moved as quickly as I thought I would have, I have stayed committed to bringing together my surroundings, social views, relationships and personal integrity in a way that reflects me as I understand myself in this moment.  Key words: in this moment.  I’ll get back to that. 

Being deliberate and thoughtful about what I want and need, really weeding out what I thought others wanted and needed from/around me, has been a really long process.  I know that I am a people pleaser.  What I didn’t realize is how deeply that is ingrained in me.  How I actually try to anticipate a desire and have it ready, which paints a false image of who I am.  In examining what I want, I was really torn – over and over again.  Not by anyone’s expectations or desires, but my perceptions of these things.  I really had no idea that I had so few concrete knowings of what I want.  I have many concrete knowings of what I don’t want, but it’s actually taken two years to come up with wants.  Funny how we can know another’s desire, but not our own.

Along the way, there have been distractions and derails from making forward progress, but even for those, I have to be grateful – patience isn’t my strongest suit.  So the gift of being prevented from jumping before I really, really thought is one I have to thank the Goddess for.

So, I am moving out of the suburbs.  I am not moving to a rural area as I had thought I would.  I don’t ever want to mow a lawn, shovel snow, pick a weed, maintain anything ever again.  I am moving into a city.  A small city, that is vibrant and eclectic and has reasonable rents.  It is also very pedestrian friendly.  And I am manifesting an apartment  by water and in a park.  With a washer and dryer in the apartment.  Because when I looked at myself, and my personal needs, without considering anyone else, I rediscovered some things.  Valuable things and silly things – things I like and things I want to reframe.

As I start the packing and culling process, I am amazed at the ways I have changed.  This is where I get back to that “in this moment” thing.  I have found, stored in boxes, hanging on hangers in the back of the closet, in the way back corners of the kitchen cabinets, in the titles of the books on my shelves, the vestiges of who I was in a moment and was sure would never change.  So funny! 

So, I’m intentionally trying to leave room in this process for the unexpected.  I don’t want to lock in to any one idea or belief about myself and set up my world around that.  It’s taken me 24 years to recognize and extricate myself from the box I put myself in, in my early twenties, I sure don’t want to do it again! 

Music for Today:  Changer and the Changed – Chris Williamson; Only Thing That Stays the Same – Indigo Girls; Me and Julio – Simon and Garfunkel; Follow Me – Sarah Bettens

Reading: The Bachelor Brothers’ Bed and Breakfast Pillow Book – Bill Richardson

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Been thinking about that three word phrase, “I love you.”  I know someone who doesn’t use it often, because, as she says, “‘love’ is one of those meta words that can mean different things to different people.”  She prefers to go straight to the detail, the aspect of love that would inspire an ‘I love you,’ and make comment on that. 

It used to bother me.  And honestly, sometimes it still does.  I like being told that I am loved.  I’ve been looking at the whys of that, and what saying ‘I love you’ means to me.  I totally agree that it has become a catch-all phrase, and sometimes I am guilty of using it that way myself.  As I become more linguistically aware, and more intentional about what I want to convey, I have also been examining what I mean when I use the meta phrase.

My truth is that ‘I love you’ has different meanings for me in different contexts.  In order to use that phrase with someone, I need to have a clear, defining conversation about what it means in connection to them.  This is something I am learning to do, and it is something that has made me stop in my tracks on the way to saying ‘I love you.’  I think that’s a good thing.

‘I love you’ is more than just an expression of strong feeling.  It is a promise, a commitment, an acknowledgment, an appreciation, and a sharing of joy.  Beautiful, “here is my truth about you,” joy.  It has no expectation of reciprocation in any form.

For some, it’s a bid for attention, a contract, a binder, and a softener of blows (“I love you, but…)  In other words, it is conditional and part of a power grab.  At its mildest, it’s a statement of insecurity (“Do you love me too?”)  At it’s most damaging, it is coercion, a non-consensual expectation of ways of relating.

I saved this blog entry to drafts because I didn’t have time to finish it, and recently told my lover about it.  It led to a really deep conversation about what we mean with ‘I love you.’  It was caring, and sweet, and unpacked baggage, and was really, really clear. 

One of the interesting things we discovered is how often ‘I love you’ means, ‘I’m grateful’ and ‘thank you.’ May we always be so lucky as to be blessed with appreciation and gratitude for each other first and foremost.  lifetimes

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Last night I had a really interesting conversation with a new potential friend.  She wanted to know – if I am committed to living fearlessly, why aren’t I intimate with everyone I know?  Don’t we refuse intimacy because of fear around what people will do with our deepest secrets?  Isn’t not trusting someone the same as living in fear?  Her question made me stop and think.  What I came up with is that in some relationships, intimacy is not necessary.  The clerk down the street doesn’t need to know that I am a left-leaning, Femme, feminist dyke.  It won’t affect the way money exchanges hands.  On the other hand, I would never dream of changing the way I relate to my lover in that store just because of who the clerk is. 

We also talked about intimacy in relationship to friends vs. lovers.  I find that I build intimacy with friends and lovers at about the same rate, but in vastly different areas.  My lovers might learn first about what my sexual desire is, or have more stories of my childhood.  My friends may learn about my passion around my hobbies, or my philosophical beliefs.  It’s like cutting a diamond.  You can chip away at one side or another, but in the end, you’ll see the prism of light through a completely transparent person.  That’s living fearlessly.

In my relationships, the levels of intimacy grow deeper with time.  Mostly they grow deeper by choice.  Sometimes they grow deeper because of necessity.  When I reach a crossroads with a friend, when I start to feel like we’re dancing around topics or conversations become uncomfortable, then it becomes necessary to look at my fear and walk through it.  What do I lose when I share who I am with my friends?  Nothing.   So what do I fear, the potential judgement of my friend, or the potential loss of that person in my life?   What is holding me back from being honest?  When I realize that I don’t really want to feel pain and it’s pain avoidance, then I can walk through and know the joy of my own truth regardless of the outcome.  That too, is living fearlessly.

I don’t have to be intimate with everyone I meet to live fearlessly.  There are some people I don’t choose to be intimate with, not because I’m afraid of what they will do, but because I am simply not interested in them.  No judgement, I just don’t have  the inclination.  And that’s my truth.

Did I mention that I love a good stimulating conversation?

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This past week has been one that has led me to really think about expectations and what they can do to a person.  Especially in cyberland.  When we find a person on line, each place that we find them is like a different social setting.  The person you meet in my blog is one dimension of who I am, as is the person you meet on Facebook, or on GoodReads, or any number of places I am a contributor to.  What you can’t know is who the person you would meet face to face most like?  Is it the serious, deep thinker?  The cut-up?  Or maybe the non-reader. (That would be for all of you who know me through Good Reads – I actually eat books for breakfast, but you wouldn’t know it by what I post I have read.)  Oh, and that brings me to the other thing – what is real?  True?  True for a moment?

I think we all tend to believe that whatever part of a person we connect best with is their real, true self.  When other aspects we encounter don’t match up to what we expect, it can be upsetting, even make us angry.  Expectations.   I recently had an acquaintance I’ve known for a few years cut off contact, because she found my humor to be offensive and she couldn’t reconcile one cyber Kip with another cyber Kip.

During that same time, I met someone that had only met cyber Kip here on the blog and in one other venue.  She had been slightly afraid that I would be a rather one-dimensional, incense burning, Birky wearing, chanting granola-eater.  And I am, but that is not by the smallest stretch of the imagination all that I am.  She was prepared to go with whomever she met.  No expectations.  We had a blast together.

I’m totally into goal setting – it’s how we get what we want.  But I have been thoroughly reminded about how damaging expectations can be.  And I need to remember the difference.

The offensive humor?  Oh, I’m not sure.  The topics that day were hair dye, polyamory, and merkins.

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