At 5 AM I was grateful, the light was peaking over, not quite sun rise. I said a prayer and went back to sleep.
At 6 AM I was aware of a blue sky and clouds, appreciation of opportunity, of a fresh new day. I said another prayer, went back to sleep.
At 6:30 AM I considered that I might want to get up, since I kept waking in a positive mood. I turned over, and let my alarms do their thing.
At 6:45 I woke up from a dream in which I was engaged or married, I was amongst her family, there was some sort church component, something felt arranged, but it felt fulfilling.
At 6:55 I woke up stil desirous of dreams and sleep. Not because I was tired, but because I wished to indulge.
At 7 AM I woke up nervous, made a deal with myself.
At 7:10 AM I was frustrated.
At 7:30 AM I got out of bed, wondering why I'd let myself sleep in. I was already crabby.
At 8 AM I was angry and defensive. I was trying to justify my actions, feeling like people were misjudging me. I was trying not to condemn myself.
At 8:30 I was indulging in the hurt, in the belief that I'd been wronged.
by 9 am I was holding someone else's pain.
This morning I was contemplating the consequences of my own actions. Consequences such as isolation, loneliness, acting out. The repetition of a story in which I am the hero, or victim or villain. The repetition of the kind of story that happens in isolation -when there isn't communication or shared or negotiated understanding.
Trying to be good, to be impressive, has made me so dishonest. Protection of an image rather than what is real. How I have hurt myself and others sooo.
How ofte have I experienced things alone, my internal world, my world of dreams, of holding for others, of escaping and adventuring alone, of journaling...
So separate, the place I am primarily is not in relationship but
If I reached into the wound, the times in which I acted against others, and extracted that pain in the light - would it change anything at all?
Or would I spent the next half a century trying to prove myself good again.
I wonder at what trying to be good has cost me? Is my anxiety just a symptom of trying to control the narrative? I can't be the best, I don't know how to show up honest, so I just avoid... or withdraw... so I don't have immediate consequences? I responded to my step sister, I don't know how to be a good uncle... and could add, a good brother, a good son, a good lover, a good therapist, a good man. I don't know how. I try... or at least I think I am trying... it is not enough. I am judged sometimes for my actions, and sometimes for my inactions. I have only the models I have seen, and read about, and I have struggled with them... sometimes because they don't align to my lived experience... other times because they insist nothing is good.... and I want it to be good. And others want me to be good. But I can't be good. I can only be mixed, unclear, hypocrite wanting things to be better, but not knowing how to make them better.
How can I love myself and others simultaneously? How can I act with love, when I don't feel loved.
My sister reaches out to say I am an idiot and throwing a temper tantrum, but she did not reach out to say "hey, it must be so hard... if you're not showing up, that must mean its really hard... how can I help?"
She tried once. Twice was too much.
The consequences of my actions... are that I could so easily disappear and it would affect so few people. My current clients, sure. But that's just a role. My family... yes and now. A couple of friends.
My friend reaches out to me from New York and says 'whats your address, I need to send you my keys."
The keys and trust of someone's life... and I tell this story that I am all alone... its so mismatched. But the truth is also that I will be in New York with her cat, but basically alone for a week, filling my days with the things that make me come alive... and then going to bed without anyone but G-d and a blog to tell.
