Dreaming Paris

I'm not going to get into the specifics of why I'm here. Suffice it to say that I'm at a turning point in my life, and what I do now will determine my future.

Ooooh. How dramatic. One could say that any decision at any moment can determine one's future. Even unintended decisions. Look at what happened to me simply because I didn't notice that the street I was on changed from a 2-way to a 1-way. Suddenly I'm confronting thoughts about mortality that I'd never had before, and it makes a difference in how I respond to things these days. The way I thought about life the day before the accident has shifted since the accident, and I'm taking a good hard look at what I truly value in my life. While I had an original reason for coming to Seattle to visit my brother, and that reason still weighs on me, my view has shifted and given me new things to think about.

I may not take that new job. It throws me back into a position I left, a path I turned away from. I applied for it because I was discouraged, because I thought "there's a job I could surely get," and I think I needed to have it proven that yes, I have value that others can see and I'm worth the offer of a job, and if, after my weeks here in Seattle I can find a way to make this job fit into my desires for my life, I'll take it. Nothing's been signed yet, and that in itself makes me think that there's a reason for that. There are many pluses on its behalf, though many negatives as well, not least of which is it doesn't pay nearly what I thought it did (and don't ask me why I thought it did. My mind's been mush for the last few months.) I'm still on the roster for teaching in the fall, and I love teaching. I'm also waiting to hear about a full-time teaching position I applied for, the one that I don't think I got because I know office politics, but one never can tell. If I can find another part-time job, one that fits well with my job as an adjunct, keeps me going in the direction that I really want to go with my career, and allows me to get medical insurance, that's what I want to do. I'm not a 9 to 5 person. I like having flexibility and change in my schedule and the freedom to do things for myself throughout the day.

Anyway, I'm thinking of being here as a retreat. It's one that I have to organize and schedule for myself, which requires discipline, but that in itself is something that I need to develop. I'm good at discipline while on a job, but not as good when it comes to personal things. And when I say discipline, I don't mean that I intend to whip myself into shape by force, which can't be done given my personality, but that I work seriously to nurture good habits within myself.

Remember my post on loving myself? That's what this is about. Finding what's really true for me and going with it. For years now I have cultivated certain behaviors and gained knowledge in areas that I've wanted to change within myself. And now I have a period of peace and a driving need, a motivation to see it through. These are the things that truly matter to me: 1. becoming healthy through a better diet and exercising in a way that fits who I am and how I live. 2. developing my artistic ability. 3. nurturing my spirit given my changed beliefs (but just so you know, I have abandoned any atheistic leanings I was having. I do still believe there is *something* and I'll call it God, but I don't believe it's a Christian god. It's an everyone's kind of god.)

I believe that if I can bring about a balance in those 3 things, the rest of my life will fall into place, and maybe my restlessness won't drive me mad any more. So while here at my brother's I will be doing those things that will help me to develop each of those areas. Such things include:

1. Therapy with a counselor who works holistically and within my spiritual beliefs

2. Developing better eating habits and daily exercise of some form (and since my brother has the same goals when it comes to health, hopefully we'll help each other)

3. Doing yoga and meditation

4. Painting (I had to pay a second bag fee just to bring my art supplies)

I brought some French books, too, to get down to some serious language study, but that's a lesser priority in the scheme of things.

Why have come to this point? Because my life simply wasn't working as it was, and I couldn't take another step until I confronted this.

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So my daughter and I had Subway sandwiches and talked a bit before going to the doctor's office. It took awhile because they couldn't get through to our insurance company, but finally, an hour and 15 minutes later I'm staple free and on my way home. But get this-there was another piece of glass in my head! I'd noticed it last night when I was messing with my head because it was itching and I was gently feeling around in an attempt to relieve some of the itch. I noticed a piece that seemed harder than just a bit of dried blood. When my husband looked at it, he couldn't really tell if it was just a scab or a piece glass, so I mentioned it to the nurse, and sure enough, she tweezed a bit of glass out of there. Not one, but 2 pieces, though the second was smaller. She did a good job of looking around for more, though, so I'm pretty sure I'm glass free now. And now it's raining a typical subtropical rain shower just like it's supposed to and for the moment, at least, I'm at peace. I think I'll take a nap.

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The title of my post is a book I just finished by Pema Chödrön. She's a Buddhist nun, and of course it's full of being nothing gives you everything kind of talk that has me being mindful of what I'm thinking from one moment to the next, though I have no idea what to do with any of it, not that it's even necessary to DO anything with it when you're a Buddhist, just be in the moment and observe what's true for you. Yeah.

Some of you know the bigger picture of what's going on with me, some of you only know the recent slice, but regardless, right here, right now, in this moment, my neck and head hurts and all I want to do is cry and nothing else matters but that I DON'T THINK AT ALL for just a little while. Because that's all I've been doing for weeks since before the crash, and ten times more so since. I'm living in some kind of slow-motion existential nightmare with cherry blossoms blooming all around me. Last night I lay in bed and thought loving thoughts toward my husband and the others in my life that I love, hoping that they may in some small way pave the road ahead of us with just a little less pain because no matter what happens, we're in for a bumpy trip. We're already on it, and just like my body is literally battered at the moment from the shaking I took and my neck is stiff and aching, so are our emotions.

My husband and I rode his motorcycle to the theater today. A matinee we decided to treat ourselves to. The theater is only a 3 minute drive down the road, but as I was on the motorcycle I was thinking what nuts we were to be riding such a deathtrap just for a bit of entertainment. We could go down in the blink of an eye, and be all battered and scraped and in pain, maybe die, and for what? And yet, I did it, and didn't care. Well, I cared enough to think about it. We watched How to Train Your Dragon. A lovely movie with the predictable youngster doesn't fit in but is vindicated and accepted kind of story, and yet it triggers all my thoughts of not feeling like I fit in, doing the unexpected, disappointing those I love, etc., etc. A silly kids movie and I'm personalizing every little moment of it, even the brushes with death because no matter how I try to accept and live with it, I could have died 6 days ago and I have to work through that in my head in whatever way works for me, sometimes by joking, sometimes by crying, sometimes just living the next moment, but it's always there now, and I have to settle what that means for me somehow.

When I came out of the movie I felt lightheaded again. Sensory overload, I think. When we got outside I asked my husband if we could sit down on one of the benches for a little bit. The sun felt nice and warm, but I was all shaky inside and didn't feel I could sit on the back of the motorcycle yet. And then I just started crying for no discernible reason. I couldn't stop it. I haven't really cried much since the accident happened. A couple of times because my daughter cried first, and a few momentary tears here and there, but I couldn't stop this. It didn't last long, but I still feel it almost 2 hours later.

My life is very strange right now. Very, very strange.

I got a letter stating the 3 workers in the ambulance who hit me were injured in some way and the city insurance is subrogating against my insurance. Okay. They told me at the time no one else was injured, but I imagine they got a bit of a shaking, too. A friend said the ambulance didn't look damaged, but the police report gives it about $4000 worth. Sigh. One wrong turn. One moment of missing the road signs. It's all so weird. I want to go out there and look at where it happened. I haven't been able to yet. I want to see where it says the road is one way. I want to know why I didn't notice it. Where was my head?

Caught up in my thoughts, as it is so often, probably. Oblivious to the world around me. I haven't been oblivious this week, though. Mindful. Slow-moving. Watching. Waiting.

No answers.

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Let me first say I'm not a morning person. This isn't to say that I don't love mornings. I do. I love the feel of them, and I especially love having the whole morning to get things done. I'm at my best then and accomplish many things around the house on the days when I'm not teaching. If I get up early. Which is rare. Because I'm not a morning person.

Somehow my biological time mechanism that humans are supposed to have, that one that, were we to not have clocks and the ability to go against nature with our artificial lights, kicks in and tells us, it's dark-go to sleep, it's light-wake up, has never worked properly. No matter how early I go to bed, my body's preferred wake up time is 10 or 11 am. In order for me to feel well, I must sleep at least 8 hours, preferably 9, but I'll sleep 12 or 13 if I don't use an alarm. I read in a few places that people who sleep as long as I like to sleep don't live as long, but I often wondered if it counts when you've lived a life that requires you only sleep 6-8 hours because you must get up for work. Is it what your body craves or what you actually make it do that determines these things, because if it's what I've made it do, I'm safe, I should live a good long life, at least based on my length of sleep because even though I'd love to sleep 12 to 13 hours every night, I actually don't. I like to sleep. But I don't like going to bed.

I will stay up well beyond time to go to sleep, even if I'm tired. I used to read late into the night, now I'm on the internet. Part of the reason for that is that at night it's usually quiet. It's the one time in my life where I can feel like I'm alone. I need that. Living with other people distresses me. I would be perfectly content living alone. When I say that to friends who are alone they tell me, no, you wouldn't. Be glad of what you have. Well, I am glad, but the fact remains that living with people distresses me. I KNOW that I would be perfectly content living by myself. Not as a hermit of course. I need people. But I need that alone time, too. And I can tell you that I know I'd like it because I've done it, and it was wonderful.

Well, as I said, I'm not a morning person, so waking up is never a good thing for me. I'm used to the icky feelings I have when I open my eyes and realize that I have to get up. But this morning was different. I could tell that my internal pharmacist had mixed my brain and body chemicals in the wrong proportions. This was not the normal ickies. This was my day of regret, the day when the consequences of my actions would come to roost.

Ever since I cut out sugar as much as possible from my diet I've had fewer days of depression. I've felt more myself. Adding whole grains, nuts, fruits and vegetables in greater quantities brings my mind to its usual upbeat, positive state. Adding exercise gives me an almost high. You'd think I'd make a habit, then, of all those things that I know will make me feel good, but I'm sorry, vegetables and exercise simply aren't as pleasurable as a slice of cheesecake with blackberry topping. IT JUST ISN'T! So sometimes I fall off the wagon. I crave the sugary goodness and just can't say no, even though I know I'll regret it. As I'm regretting it today.

Tears, anger, impatience, frustration, they have made their home in me today. Ugh.

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Haven't even been very active on FB. But I thought I'd post a health update. I've now lost a total of ten pounds since I changed how I eat. I've also been incorporating more activity, though still not a regular routine. But I feel better overall. Still have those downer days, but they're manageable. I think I'll do even better now that the holidays, along with getting back into the swing of things after the holidays, are over. I did binge a bit during and after, but not so much that I gained anything, which surprised me! I managed to maintain, and then finally begin losing again. So. I'm teaching 4 classes this semester and keeping busy with house stuff, painting (yes, I'm painting pictures again!), going to French meetups and art events, and the general everyday things that keep one busy. But not so busy that I can't relax, which is what I'm soaking up.

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