weariness

There are many kinds of weariness.
There is physical weariness, which is remedied by rest.
There is mental weariness, which is remedied by sleep.
There is emotional weariness, which is remedied by love.
And there is weariness of the spirit, which is assuaged by time.

I am bone-deep weary on all fronts. Had I the energy, I might even be in despair, but alas I'm too weary even for that.

A dear one opened his home to me and I slept 14 hours--unheard of for me, the woman who never sleeps more than six hours. I slept, making up for the long nights of giving meds every hour to the sister who is still living but jealous of the one who died. I am so sad that every ounce of water in me feels like a pound of tears.

I am home now, and in a short while I will be going back to work, back to the world of taxes and financial services. A world of precision. A world whose parameters I know well and know how to control. A world in which the solution is always 'zero', regardless of the problem. At work, when my colleagues get caught up in the drama of an error, I remind them that they are focusing on the problem, instead of the solution.

What is my solution to loss and death and weariness? WORK.

Life after work and illness

So I caught bronchitis after 6 weeks of working 1o-12 hour days. Two weeks, 4.5 days off work, and two inhalers later, I decided it would be good to resume my social life. So I accepted a few invitations with the proviso that I could rest if I needed to. Thursday night I drove to CW's and he made me a good dinner (my first in a week) and when I was tired we curled up on his bed and watched some comedians. Friday M contacted me, invited me over for a dinner party. We ate lamb and talked and then the group of us, perhaps 15 people, piled together on and around the couch to watch a movie. It felt good to sit between M's legs, to lean back against his chest while we watched Goonies and tug on his long curls and have him slide his hands down my arms and rest his chin on my head and just be. It also felt good to cuddle with J on Saturday night, to listen to the strong, slow beat of his heart, to feel his hard, firm body snuggled up against my softness and know how much he likes it that I am plump (as odd as it seems to me). I think I will take tomorrow as a day of rest.

How was your week?

A client of mine sent me an email, stating that she'd had a rotten week and asking after mine.

I responded with:

There is a scene in the movie Gladiator, in the very beginning, where Russel Crowe's character says "Upon my word, unleash Hell" and then the Romans use catapults with boulders drenched in tar to set fire to the trees while men bleed into the soil.

My week has been like that. I hope yours has been better.

2006: The year of love and friendship

In the past year, especially, I've learned the value of open and honest communication, and more, of putting myself out there emotionally and being vulnerable. My awareness of the world and my inner life has deepened with both therapy and my meditation practice. I've had some insights and put into effect some changes in my life and I've found that my ability to relate with others has increased dramatically. Yes, in putting myself out there, I risk emotional pain, but life is as transient and uncertain as it is beautiful , and I've realized that if I'm unwilling to embrace the possibility of negative consequences, I'm not really living my life--I'm playing it safe.

These flowers are from a friend I've made this year. A wonderful man of intelligence, wisdom, and kindness whom I never would have met if it was not for the changes I've made in my life this year--of my choice to take risks, to be spontaneous, to follow my intuitions.

A retrospective of 2006:
I am, mostly, well. 2006 was a tough year--My sister spent January through September in and out of the hospital and I did a lot of travelling back and forth to Massachusetts. She seems to have stabilized, but the medical estabilishment says it will be another year before they know what the lasting effects of the illness will be, and if she will require convalescent care for the rest of her life. We did not think she would make it to her 37th birthday, but she is a stubborn wench and surprised us all. Work has been awful--so short-staffed that I was asked to stay on even after I offered to resign because I was having to leave for MA for weeks on end and at a moment's notice.

And yet, for all that, it has been a great year, too. I've been dating some amazing men, completed two years of counselling/therapy, seen friends and family, and done a fair bit of travelling. I am participating in an ecstatic dance group, have been exploring tantra and intimacy, and I've been developing my abilities as a writer and a photographer with the encouragement of professionals in both fields.

This year my friendships have deepened, and I've learned just how secure a support system I have. I've learned that I don't always have to be 'strong' and that it takes more courage to lean on others than it does to be the one others lean on. I've learned that I can feel fear without embodying it. As a consequence of my sister's illness, which was partly brought on by self-neglect, I've come to the realization that I need to learn to live in and with my body--to fully inhabit it--rather than driving it, or using it as a tool. The seat of my self-awareness and the source of my connection with reality are my flesh and my senses, and neglecting to care for my body means that there will likely come a day when it is unable to furnish my needs.

And so, while I am not the sort of person who participates in the New Year's Resolution ritual, I am committed to making 2007 the year I make peace with my body, learning to inhabit it fully, ceasing to use it as a shield between me and a world whose attentions I'd become so averse to.

I am off to the Coast for the weekend for a quiet retreat in a little 1920's cottage, where I can recuperate from 50 to 60 hour work weeks to the sound of wild surf and blustry winds. I expect to sit by the fire, read, watch movies, and enjoy the opportunity to write and photograph.

Lost a bet!

I awakened this morning to a glorious sunrise. The sky was rose and gold, and the light poured into my room, which faces east/northeast. I put on my robe and went outside to photograph it, but the forest nearby obscured it too much, and I was still too sleepy to consider driving to a better vantage point. So I went back inside and watched the display until it was replaced by the bold blue sky, and went back to sleep. What a luxury.

I worked 6 days this past week, over 60 hours. I'm tired. I woke up tired. And I'll do it again this coming week. The joys of the accounting field and end of the year. What keeps me going is knowing that in 8 weeks I get my life back, and in 10 - 12 weeks, I'll do my birthday vacation in some form or another. In another month or so I should probably decide what, if anything, I'll be doing. Last year I went to Key West. The year before that, Siletz Bay, and the year before that Litha Springs. Some days its good to have that light at the end of the tunnel to work towards.

I lost a bet this weekend. I never bet unless I'm certain I'm right. And I was certain. But I was wrong. Ah well. I should know better than to bet against M, but I didn't mind really, since it was a win-win situation. Not that I mind losing this bet, which entails me going to San Francisco instead of him coming here. We didn't agree on a date or a duration prior to making the bet, which is good, as I'll not really get to breathe again until mid-January, and that weekend I've already got plans lined up, much to his dismay.

I'm working on a naughty story, almost got it finished. Its been a while since I did nay writing and it feels good to get those creative erotica juices flowing again.