| Tuesday, October 14, 2008 |
Stop, it's too late, I'm feeling frustrated:
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Sometimes you forgive people but you're still hurt. Sometimes in the act of forgiving them you want to punch them right in the head.
Sometimes people tell you what you want to hear just to keep you around. This can work for awhile, especially if you want to believe what they're telling you, but then one day it just doesn't -- it doesn't work -- usually because the person in question lapses right back into who they really are, and who they really are hurts you, or neglects you, or doesn't care for you like you ought to be cared for. Maybe you go rounds. Go ahead, do the rounds. How long will you do them?
I guess it's a question of trust and how one wants to live his or her life. Correct me if I'm wrong.Labels: diary, love, reality, relationships, truth |
 posted @ 5:11 AM  |
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| Sunday, October 12, 2008 |
What's a Wonderwall, anyway?
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I went to a fund raiser this weekend for La Casa Norte. I've been to quite a few fund raisers in my day for all manner of things, but this one was really pretty cool. Supremely good cause. Good food too (shockingly). There were even mixologist competitions, which required me to try each and every exotic alcoholic offering, which hello, I did with good cheer. I wore a black dress I bought three days ago and on the way out of the restroom where I fixed my makeup a man in a snappy suit said, "Jesus, you're stacked." Perhaps I should have been offended but I'd had all those lovely alcoholic offerings. Additionally, I am stacked. Grant, my dear, you would not approve.
More to the point, my shoes were drop dead.
I totally should have taken pictures.
Oh, and I went to brunch this morning. Ever notice how you can never eat enough food to justify the cost of a brunch? Totally. NOW try imagining a brunch that costs $130.00 without tip, for which you ate about three bites of mahi mahi, a spoonful of risotto, some Peking duck and a bite of dessert. Preposterous! Who has that kind of expendable cash? I mean, even if I do (which I don't), that kind of pricing offends me. The whole scenario puts me off. That's why I could never live in the Upper West Side of Manhattan (which was recently a possibility). I would hate everybody. I would wear ratty overalls and a Cubs hat on general principles. I'm not opposed to wealth, of course, but I find conspicuous consumption truly odious.
Oh, and the new Oasis album is actually damned good, imagine that. I guess the Gallaghers are no longer high and kicking each other's asses. I approve.
Notice how everything (for the most part) I mentioned was semi-positive?
My point is, this is progress! Semi-positive! Jesus Christ! The clouds are parting! I still have large amounts of The Suck in my life, but let me ask you, who doesn't? It could be worse, is what I'm saying ... just ask the deserving youth of La Casa Norte.
I'm listening to a song that reminds me of a really great guy who died a few years ago. He comes around every now and again. He tries to tell me to calm down. He's been telling me that recently. I'm trying, L: I'm trying.
Progress!Labels: diary |
posted @ 6:53 PM |
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| Friday, October 10, 2008 |
Draconian!
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I feel sicker than ever. Insomnia is back. Of course. But I'll beat it; I have reason to now. Right? I mean I have reason to now, right???
Love? Love is a vulnerable face you show to someone you think will shine it back to you. Doesn't really matter how, really; eyes, heart, hands. They shine it back, they always will. This is what I think love is but the problem with that? I've been wrong about this before. Love's not a face? Is it a foot? Is it a word? Is it a concept? How can it just go? How does cold sweep in to replace warmth? And how does the warmth rush back in, just like that? Well hell, if I knew that I'd tell you, quick. Down with love? That's cynical. Down with love?
No, just insomnia. I'll get over it.Labels: diary |
posted @ 7:25 AM |
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Consummate Conundrum
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Only a handful of you read this blog. Honestly, it's how I prefer it.
Nobody thinks to hop over here from the other place because the other place is the face I show the blogosphere and it's easier when it's just a face. Or a joke. Or a quote. Or a pair of boobs. It's just easier when it's not hard or real and when I'm not talking about all the shit that affects me, because I am a person, just like you.
I am a blogger. I can't help it. I've been blogging before they ever called it blogging. I think back then they called it online journaling, yes. My point is that I've always just put it out there. I've always found it easier to compose words in this "space" than on a blank piece of paper. Maybe it's the idea that someone who cares is actually reading the words I write. Perhaps it's the notion that nothing ever disappears from the internet, not really. Even me.
I don't know. I just put myself out there. You'd be amazed at the things that have happened in my life because of it.
For example, I've met a lot of people. In fact, some of my best friends are people I first met online. I know everybody says that and everybody probably even means it, but I really mean it, too. I've encountered people of real substance and merit. I've also encountered phonies and fakes. In the end all I can hope is that I've given something good to other people. Many of those people have left my life for whatever reason; sometimes I know and sometimes I do not. Today I know about the most recent one. Six weeks from now I know I'll feel I have no idea because none of it makes any sense, not really. Today I'm just saying it does.
But gone is gone, just as coming is coming, or staying is staying. But as for permanence, is there even any, ever?
Words on paper, words on paper. That's pretty much all I am to anybody. Oh, and let's not forget the boobs. I capitulate. I give in. I give it away. Today for me I gave it away, and that was a lot for me to do because truly, I am not like that. I was making a point. That which was was sacred has become profane, altars of supposed holiness obliterated because goodwill cannot be maintained and untruths are easily tossed about. Expectations, dashed, and then me, relegated to what you see through a lens. "Crystal". Whomever she is.
Where will I be in a year? In two? What will I be doing? Who will I know? Who will I spend my time with? Where will I live? Yes, as for permanence, is there even any, ever?
No, nothing is permanent. These are just words, all I am. All you are. All any of us have, really. The scant and unworthy expression of all that lies within.
The consummate conundrum.Labels: awareness, balance, diary, ego, friends, happiness, negative self-talk, not feeling very spiritual, purpose, sleeping, the world, truth, whining, worry |
posted @ 5:24 AM |
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With The Nothing
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It has been so long since I've spent any real time in meditation or prayer. Long because when you're tired you tend not to think straight and when you're hurt your mind tends to wander too much. Meditation can be excruciating. Sometimes, though, at night, just as I am about to drop off, I see the familiar faces in the black screen of my closed eyes; I see the flashing lights and I hear what I've always heard. But only a little. Faint recollections and suggestions. If I followed those inclinations I might venture inward and perhaps even escape, but to where? A silent void within myself? Calmness? This sounds wonderful and I know this experience well. Do I feel unworthy? Probably at this time, yes. Do I feel too out of sorts?
Most certainly.
I give up on expecting people to do what you want or need them to do. I give up on trying not to be disappointed turn upon turn, on trying to take a mental or spiritual high road all for self preservation. Maybe life is about slings and arrows and massive piercings of the heart. Maybe this is true and the answer is to accept it. To be content within your circumstance, even when your circumstance seems to be detonating weekly, daily. Contentment, the ultimate challenge?
I don't purport to know anything but what I am thinking right now in this head of mine, and none of it feels especially good in the body, most of it feels kind of wrong or off kilter. I admit this. And this is my choice, probably. These are perceptions I choose to employ. It's the capitulation that takes all the time; the silent and slow handing over of ideals and promises in exchange for fistfuls of nothing. Am I Buddhist then? Should I be?
Because I am learning to create positive associations with nothing.Labels: diary, happiness, not feeling very spiritual, purpose, sleeping, Spirit, spirituality, the clairs, the natural self, truth, whining, worry |
posted @ 2:16 AM |
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| Thursday, October 9, 2008 |
All One Can Hope For
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September had its good and bad moments. A lot of them were bad. I'm through the bad, and looking for more good, though now here we are, full into October.
Much is changing in my life. In my patterns. Much is changing with how I view myself; how I want to be within the world and also how I want to feel, most of the time. These are matters of great importance.
For me.
I don't want to be in pain, or in need; I do not want to live in fear of the unknown, the uncertain. I want to marry the idea of the unplanned and expect it; I do not want to be thrown for millions of loops, over and over again, over endless days. I seek contentment. Who doesn't?
Saint Paul asked to be healed three times and he was not. This means, I believe, that we are not always given that which we most seek. Sometimes life is unexpected; loved ones come and they go; injuries, illness and death happen to those who deserve it the least; wars and rumors of wars and the endless spinning of our planet.
And here I am, an ant on this planet. But I am alive. I do want to feel a certain way. I do want to live my life in a certain manner.
Is happiness a reality? Of course it is not. It is not a state of being. It cannot be maintained. Happiness often happens when we least expect it; it is incumbent upon us to notice the joyful moments and catalog them. The more we notice the more we will notice, and the more we do notice the more we feel an extended period of happiness. Is this all we can hope for? Perhaps. Is it enough?
For me.Labels: awareness, diary, epiphanies, God, happiness, making the connection, prayer, present moment, Spirit, spiritual, spirituality, the natural self, the world, worry |
posted @ 6:26 AM |
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| Monday, August 25, 2008 |
Saint Joseph and Miracles
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I think I need a miracle. I also think I'm tired of asking? I don't know how it will come, but it doesn't change that I need it anyway, and that I am looking for one.
A little over a year ago I needed a different kind of miracle and while in Prague, asked for it. At the time I'd become enamored with Saint Joseph, father of Christ, because he is designated as protector (father) of families and even the world. (I am still enamored with him. He is on the chain I wear around my neck at all times.) While in Prague I prayed to Joseph for the miracle I sought. I told him if he would do this thing for me I would become a Catholic and tell everybody I knew about him. It seems a rather superstitious thing to do, I realize, but again, I needed a miracle and I was willing to ask. Plus I also had an affinity for Joseph.
A few weeks later the miracle came. I could hardly believe it.
As many of you know, I attempted to become a Catholic but at all turns, the Universe seemed to be against it. I quit only when I was truly spent over the process (about a week before confirmation, which was not going to happen for me). It felt like perhaps that part of my promise to Joseph was unnecessary, because if it weren't, I should have been able to convert. But I was being held back from it. I did however try my hardest to work within the process, and also told many people about Saint Joseph. (Truly, if you need help in matters of the home, turn to him. He will help you.)
I guess I should go to him again. I think I simply feel exhausted. It seems at every turn life throws another curve ball, and I must acclimate, acclimate. This new curve ball seems too preposterous by half, and there is no way I can do what is being asked of me -- no way at all. Yet if I do not do this I stand to lose everything. What can I do? Where can I go?
I realize I ought to go back through my own writings for encouragement. When we are in a state of "need" we create a needy energy, which is a hard (or, rather, "not light") energy, and that is not the kind of energy that brings positive conditions into our life. And yet, last year when I needed (and asked), I was given.
I think miracles ride the lightning between need and deserving; they are given because we need them and also because we, as spiritual beings connected to God, are deserving.
Prayer to Saint Joseph
O St. Joseph whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the Throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. O St. Joseph do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power I may offer my Thanksgiving and Homage to the most Loving of Fathers. O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press him in my name and kiss His fine Head for me, and ask Him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for us. Amen
Say for nine consecutive mornings for anything you may desire. It has seldom been known to fail.
Labels: God, home and hearth, manifesting, prayer, Saint Joseph |
posted @ 4:12 AM |
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