As a rule, a wave of heavy depression washes over me around my birthday. Few of my birthdays over the years have risen above this. I can count on one hand how many of these days have felt celebratory rather than a reminder of my limited worth and achievement in this world. I have lived with this understanding and expectation for much of my life. I rarely felt worth the trouble of planning a party and would never expect anyone to dare surprise me with one. Many times I would have rather slept through it.
For many of those years, at some point during the days leading up to the fateful one I would find myself with pen and paper - or keyboard, as the case may be - assessing the damage of my own existence. It would be the equivalent of the doorjamb or wall space used to measure the height of children, only mine was more of an inquiry into personal growth. Of course this only occasionally meant what it should. Primarily it was more about all of the ways I was working against the wind toward distant goals and the ensuing steps that had inched me forward over the past year.
I have been living this way for a long time. And I have the psychological scars to prove it. As I have been approaching my third palindrome birthday, I can barely muster the words to express the ways I feel I have grown in the past year. I don't mean to sound disingenuous, but sometimes we can surprise even ourselves. I believe that to be a much more challenging feat and one that doesn't come around often enough.
It has clearly taken me thirty-three years to arrive here, but as semantically messy as it sounds, for the first time in my life I feel alive. I feel peculiarly unfettered to anything, anyone's expectations or demands, or even some script that offers my character description. Simultaneously I don't have a clue who I am and I have never been more certain. I feel free and open to absolutely everything and never have I felt so fearless!
Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose, the lyric reminds us. Even though it has been a favorite sentiment for some time, it resonates with me now more than ever. For the first time in too many years I look ahead of me and don't see just a single destination in mind. I see them all. Infinite possibilities don't scare me, they energize me. The other day my horoscope was: Accept what comes with open arms. A trusted companion is going to be your best advisor. You can attract valuable tips or earn gratitude or stumble upon a sterling opportunity to mend fences.
I have been spending a bit of time lately trying to catch my figurative breath as I look out these new eyes. One realization I discovered while talking in therapy is that I used to live my life as if it were me against the world and now I realize I am flowing with it. Sometimes life is better without a paddle or even a map. Instead maybe it's better to just let the currents take you where they will.
12 February 2010
08 February 2010
a rhythmic
I have found myself writing so much over the past several weeks. It has been almost exclusively personal journal writing, but it has been of a most intense, soul searching, variety. It is something I have discovered about being in therapy for the last several weeks that I am starting to see more and more from that sort of emotive, reflective writing as well.
Sometimes we have to peel layers of our emotional onion to rid ourselves of certain thicker more stubborn feelings that are blocking us from the tastier, more palatable parts of ourselves. It's important to just get it out, to relief ourselves of emotional burdens and baggage. I have found it unexpectedly freeing. I think back on a mere three weeks of conversations, thoughts, and frantic bits of writing and I can only vaguely identify with small bits of any of it. I feel changed. I can sense the growth in myself and it is startling.
After a short inadvertent, but nonetheless enjoyable 'drinks, snacks, and conversation over the first half of the Super Bowl' type affair with a group of friends, I walked downtown to grab a drink with a good friend. It seems that everyone is currently going through some level of intense, personal struggle. Some would like to place the blame on that God of War planet, Mars. I don't suspect it's far off.
I find it quite interesting to listen to myself offering advice and friendly counsel; because it is within the perspective and surprising optimism of my own words that I can feel examples of my own character arc. After what now feels like an arduous effort to do so, I can feel myself emerging from an old skin.
Sometimes we have to peel layers of our emotional onion to rid ourselves of certain thicker more stubborn feelings that are blocking us from the tastier, more palatable parts of ourselves. It's important to just get it out, to relief ourselves of emotional burdens and baggage. I have found it unexpectedly freeing. I think back on a mere three weeks of conversations, thoughts, and frantic bits of writing and I can only vaguely identify with small bits of any of it. I feel changed. I can sense the growth in myself and it is startling.
After a short inadvertent, but nonetheless enjoyable 'drinks, snacks, and conversation over the first half of the Super Bowl' type affair with a group of friends, I walked downtown to grab a drink with a good friend. It seems that everyone is currently going through some level of intense, personal struggle. Some would like to place the blame on that God of War planet, Mars. I don't suspect it's far off.
I find it quite interesting to listen to myself offering advice and friendly counsel; because it is within the perspective and surprising optimism of my own words that I can feel examples of my own character arc. After what now feels like an arduous effort to do so, I can feel myself emerging from an old skin.
04 February 2010
karaoke therapy
To my own surprise, I have been going out to karaoke on a regular basis for the last year. In that time I have performed - for better or for worse - over 175 songs. Given the roller coaster that my life has been on during the past year, I have found it all to hold a key for great catharsis and, by association, personal therapy for me.
Music has spoken to me on a very deep level since I was a child and as the undergrowth of turmoil has spread around the structures and foundations of my existence, it has all become that much more potent. Certain songs have taken on new meaning and new personal importance for me, as I heard them with new ears. Even other songs I once adored now make me shudder. There is something very affecting about releasing a myriad of emotions and feelings through this oft-derided past time. It can even give a seemingly joyless soul the chance to don a new hat and demeanor for three and a half minutes.
One evening back in July, I found myself belting out the Bowie half of Queen's Under Pressure with a good friend as the final song of the night. It was during this moment that all of the associations with Ice Ice Baby and other such popular culture uses fell away from my perception, allowing me to finally truly hear the intensity of the message of the song as well as this refrain:
Can't we give ourselves one more chance
Why can't we give love that one more chance
Why can't we give love, give love . . .
'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
Last night it wasn't even my own performance that offered the cathartic, connectivity to the music. And yes, it can be found in all sorts of forms for me. Hanging out with a small handful of friends at my second go-to karaoke spot, a couple of guys pulled up Linkin Park's In the End. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the chill in the air, or maybe it was the power of their voices, but I must tell you nu-metal insults aside, the damn thing really hit me.
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter
Tonight, I will be off for another round of karaoke. I wonder what I should sing next.
Music has spoken to me on a very deep level since I was a child and as the undergrowth of turmoil has spread around the structures and foundations of my existence, it has all become that much more potent. Certain songs have taken on new meaning and new personal importance for me, as I heard them with new ears. Even other songs I once adored now make me shudder. There is something very affecting about releasing a myriad of emotions and feelings through this oft-derided past time. It can even give a seemingly joyless soul the chance to don a new hat and demeanor for three and a half minutes.
One evening back in July, I found myself belting out the Bowie half of Queen's Under Pressure with a good friend as the final song of the night. It was during this moment that all of the associations with Ice Ice Baby and other such popular culture uses fell away from my perception, allowing me to finally truly hear the intensity of the message of the song as well as this refrain:
Can't we give ourselves one more chance
Why can't we give love that one more chance
Why can't we give love, give love . . .
'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
Last night it wasn't even my own performance that offered the cathartic, connectivity to the music. And yes, it can be found in all sorts of forms for me. Hanging out with a small handful of friends at my second go-to karaoke spot, a couple of guys pulled up Linkin Park's In the End. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the chill in the air, or maybe it was the power of their voices, but I must tell you nu-metal insults aside, the damn thing really hit me.
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter
Tonight, I will be off for another round of karaoke. I wonder what I should sing next.
hidden meaning
I sometimes take to seeking deeper meaning in objects, interactions, synchronicity, and sometimes simply words. My wallet is one of the few things that I take everywhere I go. It's such a frequent inanimate companion that I really notice the difference when I don't have it with me. I don't have much money, but I guess there is something about toting around one's presumed identity and access to at least a little cash that stands for something.
I used to keep pictures there. Older models had pictures of nieces and nephews, girlfriends at the time. More recently I had a few old pictures of my wife, although her image remained young while she aged. This is primarily because all of the photos of the last 6 years have found their way on to the computer and never into my wallet.
It's strange the things we decide to keep with us. Some of them are 'just in case' and others hold a personal resonance beyond words. For a while now I had been keeping an Oregon state quarter in there, since it crossed my path at just the right moment of heightened excitement about moving across the map to that place called Portland. It seemed to invite the richness of promise and hope where it was faltering. It seemed to be 'here' only better.
Today, while standing in line at the bank, I remembered that I had also kept a horoscope I had jotted down at my favorite local coffee shop where they often post the daily ones. I thought maybe it would tell me something about the present moment, since it was in that moment that I was reminded of writing it down in the first place.
September 16, 2009 - Aquarius
When faced with a haystack the only thing that matters is finding the needle. You have a tough task, but everything will be fine.
I used to keep pictures there. Older models had pictures of nieces and nephews, girlfriends at the time. More recently I had a few old pictures of my wife, although her image remained young while she aged. This is primarily because all of the photos of the last 6 years have found their way on to the computer and never into my wallet.
It's strange the things we decide to keep with us. Some of them are 'just in case' and others hold a personal resonance beyond words. For a while now I had been keeping an Oregon state quarter in there, since it crossed my path at just the right moment of heightened excitement about moving across the map to that place called Portland. It seemed to invite the richness of promise and hope where it was faltering. It seemed to be 'here' only better.
Today, while standing in line at the bank, I remembered that I had also kept a horoscope I had jotted down at my favorite local coffee shop where they often post the daily ones. I thought maybe it would tell me something about the present moment, since it was in that moment that I was reminded of writing it down in the first place.
September 16, 2009 - Aquarius
When faced with a haystack the only thing that matters is finding the needle. You have a tough task, but everything will be fine.
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