October 2020
The 5th.
“Have you ever seen a chair move on its own? Have you witnessed the promenade of a table, or seen knives and forks dance with one another? A wheelbarrow wheel itself? Buttons leap to life? No, of course not. And yet we all know, we have all experienced, the disobedience of objects.” —The Swallowed Man by Edward Carey
The potatoes were the last straw today. Or maybe the first. They just weren’t working out, and I became overwhelmed by them. I should have used a different pan, a different potato. I should have dried them out more. I should have used a recipe. All these critical words that are designed to…what? I don’t know. Help me learn? Help me avoid making more dire mistakes that involve potatoes?
I need to work on my self-talk.
The 6th.
I feel hopeful and relieved. These past few weeks have been hard because it felt like we were entering a financial vortex that would create its own downward momentum, pulling us ever under without our consent or control. It felt like I really don’t know how to respond because anything we do is a drop in the bucket compared to the amount of gap that we have every month for the foreseeable future.
But now I feel like some of the dots are connecting. We can do this. Or at least we can do something. And I see a path forward that allows us to tie this quarter in with next quarter, still moving in the direction we need to go long-term.
I’m excited to get our team moving this direction. It feels like a breakthrough for me, and a win altogether.
The 18th.
I’ve been avoiding writing here. I’m not sure why. It’s been difficult to check in with myself this week, most likely because I’ve been running on adrenaline.
There are so many things to do, to figure out. I have plenty to keep me going. The momentum makes it easier to get started, and to keep going. Some part of me is worried that if I stop to think about it, I will invite friction and avoidance. Those are usually the things I’m experiencing when I spend time with my journal.
There is another piece of it that makes me reluctant…emotional processing. There is a lot of fear under the surface, and I’m afraid to poke at it. It is abeyed, for now. If I write, I’m afraid of what will come up. I am afraid that will cause resistance, and worse. I am afraid it will fuzzy the waters and pull me under.
The 26th.
“I tell Ebbe that I’ll never leave him, and that I can’t stand it when life gets so complicated, like it’s been recently. He lifts my chin and kisses me. It could be, he says, that if you’re complicated, your life gets to be like that too.” —The Copenhagen Trilogy by Tove Ditlevsen
It’s been a while since I checked in last. We got the huge client project we needed. This is big for us, but I notice that I didn’t really take the time to feel the relief. It was like I had dropped a heavy load I’d been carrying, and I felt kind of ecstatic but also like…what a waste to have carried that this far. It was an intense, momentary feeling. I was giddy, almost, and didn’t even let myself feel the joy of that. Instead I jumped right into the next thing to worry about. Maybe I’m more comfortable with stress feelings because they’re more familiar to me? I’m not sure.
I just read about this beautiful community for differently-abled people that made my heart leap at the possibility of connection and belonging and meaning. I want that. And I’m also afraid. Very afraid of people. I don’t enjoy them in large doses (or at all if I’m not feeling confident). But I do want that. It makes my heart hurt to think of how I have longed for and idealized that kind of community and never had anything even close, all my life.
And at the same time, who knows what’s in store for us at any point in our lives? Grief, surprise, new possibility…it’s all on the table. I can’t fathom it. I certainly couldn’t fathom this life with its griefs and joys. It’s broken and messy and…strong. Resilient. Something I did not know I needed. Something I wouldn’t have been brave enough to choose if I were in my right mind. (Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is also desperate.)
The 27th.
Today I have that “first day of the rest of my life” feeling. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m so grateful for it in this moment. We got another project, in addition to the big project we got recently. We’ve got an additional 3 months to stay alive.
Whew. Safety might be a basic need, but sometimes it feels like a fleeting gift.
The 28th.
“When we’re indecisive, yes, the wishes of others gain.” —The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard
I’m feeling kind of ambivalent about all the strategies and structures I put in place to control my energy, even though some of that could be considered good self-care. It’s the intention behind it that makes me pause. It’s not taking care of myself, it’s controlling myself. And I’m just exhausted and I want to be left alone. I want to leave myself alone. I don’t want to be optimized. I just want to be enough.
Ugh, but the problem with not being intentional about my energy is it leaves me open to getting sucked into things. My attention gets hijacked by other people’s needs, by social media, by small trivial things that don’t matter at all to me. It’s hard for me to allow myself to just go with the flow, especially when I see my energy and attention getting hijacked. If I give myself space and freedom, something inevitably takes that space. How do I create gentle, loving boundaries so that doesn’t happen?