Rocks in your shoe.

At 2:00 am this morning I woke up and thought about disappointments. How a boy hadn’t called, how I held on to bitterness, how sometimes you want an easy-peasy communique and it never comes. All the things that you become overly distracted by.

These disappointments, I thought, are like rocks in your shoes. You feel them immediately as soon as you do, the right thing to do is stop, address the problem and sling that rock out of your shoe.

Or if you’re like me…you sometimes think that the rock will work itself out and you can keep walking.

And that’s the issue. And that’s the problem.

Trying to pretend that you can walk with a rock in your shoe. It’s not possible. I don’t care if you’ve got Crocks on or not. These things, on most occasions, do not work themselves out on their own. You must stop, take the shoe off and find that fucking rock and throw it as if you’re delivering the opening pitch at the first game of the season.

Disappointments becomes the proverbial rocks in shoes. When you are faced with one, you tend to say, “Oh well” and attempt to move on. But you do need to deal with the aftermath and fallout.

The boy didn’t return my call. I sat in silence. Sad, angry, somewhat disappointed and shamed. Sad because I liked him. Angry because I didn’t expect to be blown off with such apathy. Disappointed because I think I was openly communicative about my interest as he was with me. Shamed because maybe I turned into a crazy person, which is oft the case when people start to disappear. The irony being that I, myself, tend to disappear. Then the realization of that mirror image being served up to me was also a disappointment. Because that image hadn’t changed in a while and it’s time I start busting my own chops to deliver upon the same expectations I lay out for another, right? Right.

That was a huge fucking rock. It was a blood diamond in my boot.

And I’ve come to see that being bitter is the state of walking around with gravel  glued to your feet. For this, take a seat on the stoop and pull off the boots (you may need a friend to help) and dump all the pain on the ground. Sift through it. It can sometimes be helpful to see where you’ve been and where you accumulated these pain points. I mean, if you’re in Nashville and you’ve got a seashell…you’ve been carrying more baggage with you in your travels than you’ve imagined.

And then it’s time to take a look at your shoes, so to speak. If they are letting every single little thing in, you’re living in quicksand. It’s time to find a pair of Wellies.

People throughout your life will disappoint. And you’ll disappoint yourself ad nauseum through the looking glass when all is said and done. Sure, choices seem impulsive and ‘living in the moment’ when off the cuff, but remember that if your’e not prepared to fully process and absorb the wisdom from the aftermath, you will because a beast of burdens.

But you have to find out what’s worth falling down about. With rocks in your shoes, you become myopic in focusing on the pain and instead of addressing the pain immediately, you pretend to ignore it and become blinded to the rest of the scene as it plays out around you, 360 degrees. The obsession with the pain overtakes the mind; you negate the purpose of your journey by fixating on the tiny prick.

Well, sometimes he or she can be a huge fucking prick. Again, don’t let this sidetrack your entire life’s journey.

Thankfully as I get older, I’ve been able to better index the toxicity of disappointments in my life.

Sometimes the haz mat team needs to be called in to clean up the meltdown of the core. Other times, a change in polish color solves everything.

I immediately cast the shoes off and give them a shake to make sure all the shit is out on the ground before me to look at so I’m able to see whether I’m walking on rocks, glass, pennies, spider exoskeletons or whatever else. You do this long enough, you can even learn how to walk barefoot.

But that’s another story for another time.

Ride it out.

Sometimes you’ve got to just ride it out. I’ve been thinking a lot about life and death and everything entailed in it. Searching for purpose, for meaning for what I want my life to be/mean/become/remember.

I think when we’re born, our souls drop into a body onto a surf board. Life is literally the practice of learning to paddle out to the waves and attempt to ride high, all the while crashing down and bottoming out over and over again. And we never stop the process of going to task and riding the wave.

With death, I choose to believe that this rental I’m in while decay and wither away but my essence will go back into the ether from which it came. A drop back in the ocean of spirit.

httpa://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qf1RAB1xW84

I don’t think I would have believed this years ago. But now – now I need something to believe in. I need my logic as much as I need my myth. I need the faith that finite is okay and it’s how life is meant to be.

Another wall I’ve hit is finding myself so completely resentful and bitter. It’s an ugly place for me to be that I must overcome but not try to cover in shame. I’m owning the feeling and the reactions and trying to discover what the meaning is for me to be in this place. And why I feel this way.

Old ghosts reappear everywhere these days. It seems I can’t seem to run and I have to make peace with the shit I pulled and the shit pulled on me. Forgiveness is a big, big spoon of medicine that I need to constantly take.

I’m just going to ride this feeling out. Not in shame, not in silence and not in hiding. I’m a little depressed. I’m alone and I don’t want to be. I want to be loved. I want to meet him. Wherever he may be. I’m ready. (Or maybe I’m not ready.)

 

Womanizer.

I feel like I’ve been non-stop for some time. And in that cyclical nature, I’ve just lost sight of what’s important and what’s meaningful and what’s worth fighting for.

I’ve been chasing my own tail.

I’ve been chasing the high. Like an addict.

There are days that I think this feeling has dissipated completely and then I’m reminded in both innocuous and glaring ways that the pain is still there. The hurt. The feeling of betrayal.

But at times I’m not sure who I’m holding responsible for the residue. More and more, it’s me. It’s my own toxicity I’ve become aware of. That my hurt is preventing me from truly finding peace, much less love.

The fact is I’ve been the womanizer. I’ve been playing the games that I loathe and I’ve been substituting commitment with busyness. Truth be told, I’ve been afraid to fully let go and love someone – to put the work in, to commit, to let someone in.

I’ve been chasing quick-fix. Band-aids that keep me entertained, feeling desirable and only really lead me to feeling more empty than before because I’m just filling time with empty relationships that never take on any depth or importance. The revolving door keeps spinning, ushering in and out new interests.

I’m ready for commitment. But not just to another. To myself. I truly need to commit to time alone. To really absorb the fact that there’s some pain left to heal. That what I desire is company, not people just to be there for my entertainment.

So this is my acknowledgment of asshole behavior. Of womanizing tendencies. Of keeping most at arm’s length because I don’t want to let someone in. I’m not ready to. And I have the false expectations still in my brain of who that someone will be that can cut through all my own shit and snap me out of it.

Snapping out of it is exactly what I need, but from myself. It’s refraining from online dating. From texting old flames. From making the effort to just stay occupied and avoid the actual cut that’s still buried.

Maybe I’m just pathetic and holding on to this badge of pain because I have nothing else to hold on to. That when he left, in his place I just held onto the pain he left because that’s all of him I can have. If that isn’t a shitty Taylor Swift lyric, I don’t know what is.

But as Swift has said, I know we are never going back there. Not because I wouldn’t want to, but I know that sometimes you have to cut someone off because they’ll never stop caring about you too – but never in the way you care about them. And I can’t make the distinction.

I just know that I still hurt. And I can’t put that burden at anyone else’s feet, much less tackle their own ability to be open when I’m struggling.

But I’m getting better. I recognize what I need. I need perspective. I need pauses. I need to breathe and focus. And to practice being kinder to myself. And being more dedicated to my own happiness outside of the idea of a relationship.

It’s something I’ve wanted for so long and as many have said…maybe it’s just not time still.

Okay.

Okay.

It’s not time yet.

Okay.

I’m okay.

And it’s okay if it’s not time yet.

It’s not a ‘never gonna happen.’ It’s a ‘it’s just not RIGHT NOW.’ My lack of patience once again rears its ugly head.

And speaking of patience, I seem to have little for anyone else which is a true sign that I need to sort myself out. I’m giving no one a fair chance to be themselves, much less let them in. So I’m actively going to stop dating until next year. Yes, it sounds crazy and lofty. But I just feel I need to get off this merry-go-round.

I need to stop. I want out of this race that most everyone is in.

You oughta know.

Yeah, this sums up the kiss-off and the honesty that I finally copped to that you can’t lay waste to someone and then just keep waltzing back in without a care in the world, without any pretense of actually making amends or being aware of the mess you created.

It was time that you knew. And it’s time that you stop being so cavalier with the mess that was left.

However, I’m utterly thankful for the gifts I’ve lifted out of all of this, the phoenix that rose from the ash. I had to be broken in order to be set straight for others. But while I carry that gratitude, I also carry the heaviness of the knowledge you’ll forever affect me. And that’s why I ask for complete disconnection. Because you’re so unaware of how it all affects me and it’s my fault for not saying this sooner.

As I’ve said before, we all play the hero and villain from time to time. It just depends on who gets to tell the story.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EPLb4KYpck

Erased.

I’m gonna put it all behind me
Like nothing ever happened between us
Nothing ever took place between you and me…
Yes
Nothin’ ever happened
And if you se me walkin’ down the street
I won’t even recognise you
I’ll just erase you from my memory
Put it all behind me
Because you are erased
All erased…

you’ll be sittin’ on someone else’s couch
You’ll be eatin’ off a stranger’s plate
Everything is gonna get wiped out
Like a new start
Like a brand new fresh clean slate
Well here I go remembering again
All the anger and the blame…
People in glass houses shouldn’t throw those stones
but … something just flew through my window pane

My my my my …

I’ll be in a brand new pair of running shoes
And you’ll be walking on down different street
in a brand new suit and a fresh clean shirt
Makin’ telephone calls…
Keepin’ in time with someone else’s feet
Keepin’ in time with someone else’s feet

This song is everything I am today. Thanks, Annie.

httpa://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2R4d1CI0wY

i will tow the weight

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Thanks Winston.

You know you’re humble and ready to grow when you decide to willingly expose your “faults.” In hopes of strength. In hopes of freeing myself from guilt/blame/anger/bitterness/resentment and all the other things that are healthy, but need to be reigned in. It is dark and it is a place to dig up and discover and bring light to for the purpose of planting seeds of change.

I kneel to the experience. To be better more whole. And to be grateful for the broken heart.

Check out more amazing photography by Jon Jacobsen.