Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
falling off the cliffs of optimism
Dec. 21st 2010
What the hell happened?
How long has it been?
Where was I?
I woke up this morning with a pain in my back and only the most terrible thoughts running trough my mind realized I had forgotten myself. Forgotten to say my mantra, forgotten to stretch, forgotten to eat healthy, forgotten to stop drinking coffee habitually every morning, to shave to, shower, to drink water, to work out, to even take a moment to think about what I want, or what I have that I am grateful for.
I missed the lunar eclipse last night, which I really wanted to view, as it was on the night of the solstice for the first time since like 1638 or something, and accompanied by a meteor shower. I drank to much amoretto, and woke up with a headache, in Bridget’s bed (which I vowed never to do again because it hurts my back so much), and lastly, what I was dreaming about when I woke up was crying at my (now deceased) mother and step father for doing shoddy renovations to our house which would make it unlivable for us all.
Things are bad. Forget backsliding, I have fallen off the cliffs of optimism and have only just this moment grabbed on to the ledge where the valley of darkness begins. Looking down as my shoe falls off and flies away into the chasm, remembering how beautiful it was up there. and trying to catch my breath, and think of a way to pull myself up, and start the voyage up the mountain again.
Checking in here is a good start.
What the hell happened?
How long has it been?
Where was I?
I woke up this morning with a pain in my back and only the most terrible thoughts running trough my mind realized I had forgotten myself. Forgotten to say my mantra, forgotten to stretch, forgotten to eat healthy, forgotten to stop drinking coffee habitually every morning, to shave to, shower, to drink water, to work out, to even take a moment to think about what I want, or what I have that I am grateful for.
I missed the lunar eclipse last night, which I really wanted to view, as it was on the night of the solstice for the first time since like 1638 or something, and accompanied by a meteor shower. I drank to much amoretto, and woke up with a headache, in Bridget’s bed (which I vowed never to do again because it hurts my back so much), and lastly, what I was dreaming about when I woke up was crying at my (now deceased) mother and step father for doing shoddy renovations to our house which would make it unlivable for us all.
Things are bad. Forget backsliding, I have fallen off the cliffs of optimism and have only just this moment grabbed on to the ledge where the valley of darkness begins. Looking down as my shoe falls off and flies away into the chasm, remembering how beautiful it was up there. and trying to catch my breath, and think of a way to pull myself up, and start the voyage up the mountain again.
Checking in here is a good start.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
Nov. 7. 2010 Optimism is fed by gratitude
Nov. 7. 2010
Optimism is fed by gratitude
Honestly, not much happened today of notability. I mean things happened. I had breakfast with a friend, went to work with Mo and the crew doing winter cleaning on our properties, looked at a house to potentially add to the portfolio, went to a movie, took a bath, made some tea, and will shortly read my book, say my mantra 108 times plus or minus, and go to bed.
And I am so happy for it, grateful even. When I wrote about being tired about writing, I meant it. As anyone who writes a thousand words a day consistently, and really tries to make them count I believe would tell you, it gets tiring. Maybe not, surely there are people out there who write thousands of words daily and would scoff at my being tired over the task I’m undertaking. But I would challenge to them to make mental notes about the life they are living, as they live it, whilst keeping a watchful eye for any gentle nuances which may offer hints to the unfolding of meaning hidden within chance occurrences, and random interactions.
For example, (and is it i.e. or e.g.?)
Upon searching for one of the new friends I made on Facebook, I landed on a page for a person with the same name. And as I skimmed the page I found a quotation that stuck me deeply. It read as follows:
'Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, and a stranger into a friend. It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.' ~ Melodie Beattie
And I thought to myself, as I was already well drenched in the feeling of gratitude for the work that had come from the experience of the night before, this is exactly what I would share with people who read about my odyssey through optimism.
If Optimism is the engine, gratitude is the fuel feeds it, and allows for the generation of that glowing connection with divine energy; the one that draws people to one’s self and sparks serendipitous occasions.
Like the transformation of the not so grand event of sitting on the tailgate of a truck, at the dump, waiting behind some trucks for your turn to drop a load of refuse, into an opportunity to help one of your employees change their day for from awful to fantastic. What’s that worth, besides being happy to have helped replace a scowl with a radiating smile? Who knows; it immediately makes me think of the butterfly effect. Perhaps the whole world has changed because of our little tailgate chat. If not, at least the work environment will improve for myself and the others working with us.
But more so, I believe it’s the demonstration of Joy and practice of optimism that gives weight to any words shared. Furthermore, the words can very well be just a wasteful exertion of energy, like when I explained my current inner work and it’s merits to one of my other employees, who adamantly agreed with me, and even shared with me that this was also something he aspired to. However, in his next breath he began to tell me all about how horrible one of our tenants was, that my decision today let them continue living there under the condition of timely payment and no drama was terrible, how the guy was an awful person, and if I didn’t kick him out immediately, he would be pissed off. And suddenly he was a little pissed off, even before he finished his rant, before I could thank him for the warning and advice.
He was right about one thing, one must guard themselves against, “thieves in the temple”, or people who would replace your mental assertions of positively with sorrow and fear. Unfortunately in this case the person I needed to guard against was the one offering the advice. I thanked him, and then reminded him of his own words. So strange this occurrence, that I think happens to us all from time to time; losing our gems of wisdom by offering them to others verbally.
That brings me to the last thing I noted about my experience today; and now at 2 a.m. and an unexpected thousand words later, I must rest for tomorrow’s 10 a.m. laborious workday. But how appropriate, in that the lesson was this…
While there is an infinite amount of energy available to a person asking for it, and unlimited access to the universal supply of optimism; my experience is that by sharing and telling too much, too often, and towards too many people without taking the needed time to regenerate one’s own stores, it “dries the well” so to speak. Ever go on a fantastic vacation and come back home and tell everyone you know about it all at once? Well if you paid attention, might have noticed that some how that revved up blissful experience you had stored in you from the trip some how evaporated. This is exactly the same concept; and with that, I’ll be finishing my tea, skipping the reading, saying my mantra perhaps only 54 times, and praying for some supernaturally regenerative sleep.
Optimism is fed by gratitude
Honestly, not much happened today of notability. I mean things happened. I had breakfast with a friend, went to work with Mo and the crew doing winter cleaning on our properties, looked at a house to potentially add to the portfolio, went to a movie, took a bath, made some tea, and will shortly read my book, say my mantra 108 times plus or minus, and go to bed.
And I am so happy for it, grateful even. When I wrote about being tired about writing, I meant it. As anyone who writes a thousand words a day consistently, and really tries to make them count I believe would tell you, it gets tiring. Maybe not, surely there are people out there who write thousands of words daily and would scoff at my being tired over the task I’m undertaking. But I would challenge to them to make mental notes about the life they are living, as they live it, whilst keeping a watchful eye for any gentle nuances which may offer hints to the unfolding of meaning hidden within chance occurrences, and random interactions.
For example, (and is it i.e. or e.g.?)
Upon searching for one of the new friends I made on Facebook, I landed on a page for a person with the same name. And as I skimmed the page I found a quotation that stuck me deeply. It read as follows:
'Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, and a stranger into a friend. It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.' ~ Melodie Beattie
And I thought to myself, as I was already well drenched in the feeling of gratitude for the work that had come from the experience of the night before, this is exactly what I would share with people who read about my odyssey through optimism.
If Optimism is the engine, gratitude is the fuel feeds it, and allows for the generation of that glowing connection with divine energy; the one that draws people to one’s self and sparks serendipitous occasions.
Like the transformation of the not so grand event of sitting on the tailgate of a truck, at the dump, waiting behind some trucks for your turn to drop a load of refuse, into an opportunity to help one of your employees change their day for from awful to fantastic. What’s that worth, besides being happy to have helped replace a scowl with a radiating smile? Who knows; it immediately makes me think of the butterfly effect. Perhaps the whole world has changed because of our little tailgate chat. If not, at least the work environment will improve for myself and the others working with us.
But more so, I believe it’s the demonstration of Joy and practice of optimism that gives weight to any words shared. Furthermore, the words can very well be just a wasteful exertion of energy, like when I explained my current inner work and it’s merits to one of my other employees, who adamantly agreed with me, and even shared with me that this was also something he aspired to. However, in his next breath he began to tell me all about how horrible one of our tenants was, that my decision today let them continue living there under the condition of timely payment and no drama was terrible, how the guy was an awful person, and if I didn’t kick him out immediately, he would be pissed off. And suddenly he was a little pissed off, even before he finished his rant, before I could thank him for the warning and advice.
He was right about one thing, one must guard themselves against, “thieves in the temple”, or people who would replace your mental assertions of positively with sorrow and fear. Unfortunately in this case the person I needed to guard against was the one offering the advice. I thanked him, and then reminded him of his own words. So strange this occurrence, that I think happens to us all from time to time; losing our gems of wisdom by offering them to others verbally.
That brings me to the last thing I noted about my experience today; and now at 2 a.m. and an unexpected thousand words later, I must rest for tomorrow’s 10 a.m. laborious workday. But how appropriate, in that the lesson was this…
While there is an infinite amount of energy available to a person asking for it, and unlimited access to the universal supply of optimism; my experience is that by sharing and telling too much, too often, and towards too many people without taking the needed time to regenerate one’s own stores, it “dries the well” so to speak. Ever go on a fantastic vacation and come back home and tell everyone you know about it all at once? Well if you paid attention, might have noticed that some how that revved up blissful experience you had stored in you from the trip some how evaporated. This is exactly the same concept; and with that, I’ll be finishing my tea, skipping the reading, saying my mantra perhaps only 54 times, and praying for some supernaturally regenerative sleep.
The toad and the scorpion nov 6th
Nov. 6. 2010 2:33 A.M.
What would I do if I weren’t afraid?
That’s the question I’ve been told to ask myself in times of doubt.
Now is one of those times.
I am caught in a dilemma between two forces pulling in opposite, and mutually exclusive directions. The first being, the accumulation of my past decisions, conscious and not, resulting in the external position I am in, and the attachment I have to this place. It’s what I know, it’s comfortable, even if it’s not joyful or even happy. What I mean by all this is my relationship with Bridget. For the record, when I mentioned earlier that I made it clear to her that our “relationship” was over, what I meant was that I told her I was done with it and that I wanted it to be over. This apparently meant nothing to her. Either she was to drunk to notice, or she, as she has done at least a dozen times, just took it to mean that I wanted to enter in to some new reincarnation of a relationship with her, like a phoenix or something. No! what I meant was I want to end our relationship, period. The problem in this lies in the fact that we are so intertwined that I don’t know if we can find a way out without completely disassembling each of our lives.
That’s where the problem lies.
I like my house, it’s beautiful. But it’s not my house; it’s our house. And the real estate business is our business; meaning it can’t run without both of us working at it, talking about it all the time… over dinner, in the morning, before bed, post occasional coitus, literally whenever, we work together, and it’s pretty much terrible; but it’s how we’ve accomplished what we’ve achieved. And all the money we take in, who’s money is it? It’s not enough for two individuals to have the “quality” of life we have together, but neither one of us, it seems, want to give that up. And what about my son Kai? Even I can’t deny that having an active step-mother who loves him makes it easier to be a half time co-parent. I don’t know how people do it alone. I can hardly imagine it, seeing as i'm barely getting by even with my boy having a mom, step mom, full time grandparents, and a slew of friends helping out.
What I want, and what is grossly missing from the relationship between Bridget and I is joy, and enjoyment, that is if these things can be considered different. I want to dance together with someone, and share smiles with them that come from deep within. I want to dance with them and feel the steps be in sync. I want to sing… wait wait wait… I’ve said all this before. Ok, ok, so all that being blissful together is utterly lacking. We’ve established that. Now what the hell do I do, now that I’ve realized this?
I do not believe that this will change. More precisely, I believe that I have seen Bridget’s true nature and that it is not in harmony with mine.
Last night I was having a tea with my friend business partner and overall financial benefactor, when he told me a story that seems appropraite to mention here…
A toad was sitting on a lily pad on the river near the shore and a scorpion came along and said to the toad, “hey toad, I’d like to cross the river, would you please be so kind as to let me on your back to cross the river?”
To which the toad replied, “Are you mad? If I let you on my back you will sting me and I’ll die.”
The scorpion reasoned with the toad, “Why would I do that? It would not be in my best interest at all to sting you; for if I did, we would both die, you by my stinger and me by drowning. It just wouldn‘t make any sense.”
“That’s true I suppose.” said the toad with hesitation; but as the scorpion‘s reasoning seemed, sound he relented and said, “Well ok then, I’ll take you.” and he allowed the scorpion onto his back, and began across the river. About half way across, the toad suddenly felt a sharp sting in his side, to which he cried out. “Scorpion!!! Why have you stung me? And after all that you have said!!! Now we will both die here in this river!”
To which the scorpion said only, “I know, I know, but I’m a scorpion, it’s in my nature.”
Now when I heard Mo tell me this story I laughed, because the bluntness of the concept presented, and the vision in my head of a talking toad and scorpion drowning in the river seemed quite funny, but Mo with a straight face, and knowing both Bridget and I, said with a hauntingly straight face. “It’s not funny. It’s serious, you have to know a person’s nature before crossing a river with them, and you two should know each other well enough by now. Unfortunately, you both are pretty far down the river at this point.”
(speaking about nov. 4th and into the morning of the 5th)
I woke up last night at 4:36 A.M. with an anxiety attack worse that I have had in a long time. I think I am just now at this moment realizing why. Then Kai woke up crying, with a wet diaper and nearly impossible to console. Strangely, and entirely unrelated, my friend frank had called me six times while I was trying to console my son, and in the morning I had seriously wondered if North America had been hit with a solar flare.
Then in the morning, Bridget took Kai and made fed him breakfast, letting me sleep in, because I was far too exhausted to get up.
Do you see the madness brewing here.
Tonight, after a truly tiring day of parenting, working, cooking, cleaning, and supporting friends by attending their art and music festival, I invited my friend Alex over for a tea, as I have been making an effort to spend more quality time with my friends since I got back from California. Shortly after I put the tea kettle on, Bridget came out with a toxic energy that soured our tea before the water even hit the bags. After multiple failed attempts to engage Bridget, into Alex and my lighthearted and always reenergizing banter, Bridget got dark, really dark; and to here credit, she came right out with it, saying that she that while her and I spend all our time together working so hard as business partners, domestic partners, and parents, she didn’t like hearing me and Alex laugh and joke like we were. Bridget and I rarely, if ever, laugh together, not like Alex and I do; and I absolutely understand her jealousy and anger; and more than anything, it makes me sad that we don’t but…
I just don’t think it’s in our nature together.
And while I have learned to accept this co-existence of no belly laughs, nor heart filling smiles; I can’t deal with the ongoing raging rants like at the French restaurant after I tried desperately to engage her, and relentless and consistent ill timed public outbursts that send strangers as well as the people I care about running from “our” home, never wanting to come back. Basically, ruining any good time that happens, by these violent outbursts of anger over not having her expectations, standards, or requirements met, in one way or another.
I feel like a sane person would have waited until a guest left and then rationally expressed their feelings of longing for more of the things they felt like they were missing out on. Nope. Just crazy bitch, then rationalizations, then finger pointing, and accusations.
I reiterated my desire to end our relationship in a very calm manner once my guest had left. Suddenly, I am a bipolar combination of my mother and father, and will surely lose everyone who cares about me, as well as everything else, and be alone, in misery, forever. Geez! I must really suck! Why the hell would a person want to be with someone like that I wonder? I asked her that question, and then left a message for Mo, thanking him for the allegory, and telling him that tomorrow’s work might have to be postponed, due to some late night domestic problems.
The truth is, I am always beat up and tired after these little talks. And when I don’t have this kind of mental/emotional energy wasting going on, I’m usually pretty happy to do my job, even chipper some might say. It’s waking up with Hitler that makes going to work less than joyful. And that’s it, again and always, it’s JOY, and who your with.
Right now I’m with a scorpion on my back, floating down the river with a stinger in my side, sinking, and the while, worrying about not being able to stay in this really cool house, in Florida, and not being able to continue running a business which could recreate anywhere.
But…
I have said my mantra surely 108 times today.
And…
Previously, I was only going to write today about how this “Optimism” writing project was just about to be out of reach, as I haven’t the energy, nor the time to do it anymore. So, now it’s 4 A.M.; and what would ordinarily have been a case of soul sapped forfeiture, has been transmuted into art. Now if I can only get my ass out of bed for my 9 A.M. meeting with Mo, to go check up on our investment properties, I will have witnessed and enjoyed a true miracle of optimism meeting up with a little extra effort.
What would I do if I weren’t afraid?
That’s the question I’ve been told to ask myself in times of doubt.
Now is one of those times.
I am caught in a dilemma between two forces pulling in opposite, and mutually exclusive directions. The first being, the accumulation of my past decisions, conscious and not, resulting in the external position I am in, and the attachment I have to this place. It’s what I know, it’s comfortable, even if it’s not joyful or even happy. What I mean by all this is my relationship with Bridget. For the record, when I mentioned earlier that I made it clear to her that our “relationship” was over, what I meant was that I told her I was done with it and that I wanted it to be over. This apparently meant nothing to her. Either she was to drunk to notice, or she, as she has done at least a dozen times, just took it to mean that I wanted to enter in to some new reincarnation of a relationship with her, like a phoenix or something. No! what I meant was I want to end our relationship, period. The problem in this lies in the fact that we are so intertwined that I don’t know if we can find a way out without completely disassembling each of our lives.
That’s where the problem lies.
I like my house, it’s beautiful. But it’s not my house; it’s our house. And the real estate business is our business; meaning it can’t run without both of us working at it, talking about it all the time… over dinner, in the morning, before bed, post occasional coitus, literally whenever, we work together, and it’s pretty much terrible; but it’s how we’ve accomplished what we’ve achieved. And all the money we take in, who’s money is it? It’s not enough for two individuals to have the “quality” of life we have together, but neither one of us, it seems, want to give that up. And what about my son Kai? Even I can’t deny that having an active step-mother who loves him makes it easier to be a half time co-parent. I don’t know how people do it alone. I can hardly imagine it, seeing as i'm barely getting by even with my boy having a mom, step mom, full time grandparents, and a slew of friends helping out.
What I want, and what is grossly missing from the relationship between Bridget and I is joy, and enjoyment, that is if these things can be considered different. I want to dance together with someone, and share smiles with them that come from deep within. I want to dance with them and feel the steps be in sync. I want to sing… wait wait wait… I’ve said all this before. Ok, ok, so all that being blissful together is utterly lacking. We’ve established that. Now what the hell do I do, now that I’ve realized this?
I do not believe that this will change. More precisely, I believe that I have seen Bridget’s true nature and that it is not in harmony with mine.
Last night I was having a tea with my friend business partner and overall financial benefactor, when he told me a story that seems appropraite to mention here…
A toad was sitting on a lily pad on the river near the shore and a scorpion came along and said to the toad, “hey toad, I’d like to cross the river, would you please be so kind as to let me on your back to cross the river?”
To which the toad replied, “Are you mad? If I let you on my back you will sting me and I’ll die.”
The scorpion reasoned with the toad, “Why would I do that? It would not be in my best interest at all to sting you; for if I did, we would both die, you by my stinger and me by drowning. It just wouldn‘t make any sense.”
“That’s true I suppose.” said the toad with hesitation; but as the scorpion‘s reasoning seemed, sound he relented and said, “Well ok then, I’ll take you.” and he allowed the scorpion onto his back, and began across the river. About half way across, the toad suddenly felt a sharp sting in his side, to which he cried out. “Scorpion!!! Why have you stung me? And after all that you have said!!! Now we will both die here in this river!”
To which the scorpion said only, “I know, I know, but I’m a scorpion, it’s in my nature.”
Now when I heard Mo tell me this story I laughed, because the bluntness of the concept presented, and the vision in my head of a talking toad and scorpion drowning in the river seemed quite funny, but Mo with a straight face, and knowing both Bridget and I, said with a hauntingly straight face. “It’s not funny. It’s serious, you have to know a person’s nature before crossing a river with them, and you two should know each other well enough by now. Unfortunately, you both are pretty far down the river at this point.”
(speaking about nov. 4th and into the morning of the 5th)
I woke up last night at 4:36 A.M. with an anxiety attack worse that I have had in a long time. I think I am just now at this moment realizing why. Then Kai woke up crying, with a wet diaper and nearly impossible to console. Strangely, and entirely unrelated, my friend frank had called me six times while I was trying to console my son, and in the morning I had seriously wondered if North America had been hit with a solar flare.
Then in the morning, Bridget took Kai and made fed him breakfast, letting me sleep in, because I was far too exhausted to get up.
Do you see the madness brewing here.
Tonight, after a truly tiring day of parenting, working, cooking, cleaning, and supporting friends by attending their art and music festival, I invited my friend Alex over for a tea, as I have been making an effort to spend more quality time with my friends since I got back from California. Shortly after I put the tea kettle on, Bridget came out with a toxic energy that soured our tea before the water even hit the bags. After multiple failed attempts to engage Bridget, into Alex and my lighthearted and always reenergizing banter, Bridget got dark, really dark; and to here credit, she came right out with it, saying that she that while her and I spend all our time together working so hard as business partners, domestic partners, and parents, she didn’t like hearing me and Alex laugh and joke like we were. Bridget and I rarely, if ever, laugh together, not like Alex and I do; and I absolutely understand her jealousy and anger; and more than anything, it makes me sad that we don’t but…
I just don’t think it’s in our nature together.
And while I have learned to accept this co-existence of no belly laughs, nor heart filling smiles; I can’t deal with the ongoing raging rants like at the French restaurant after I tried desperately to engage her, and relentless and consistent ill timed public outbursts that send strangers as well as the people I care about running from “our” home, never wanting to come back. Basically, ruining any good time that happens, by these violent outbursts of anger over not having her expectations, standards, or requirements met, in one way or another.
I feel like a sane person would have waited until a guest left and then rationally expressed their feelings of longing for more of the things they felt like they were missing out on. Nope. Just crazy bitch, then rationalizations, then finger pointing, and accusations.
I reiterated my desire to end our relationship in a very calm manner once my guest had left. Suddenly, I am a bipolar combination of my mother and father, and will surely lose everyone who cares about me, as well as everything else, and be alone, in misery, forever. Geez! I must really suck! Why the hell would a person want to be with someone like that I wonder? I asked her that question, and then left a message for Mo, thanking him for the allegory, and telling him that tomorrow’s work might have to be postponed, due to some late night domestic problems.
The truth is, I am always beat up and tired after these little talks. And when I don’t have this kind of mental/emotional energy wasting going on, I’m usually pretty happy to do my job, even chipper some might say. It’s waking up with Hitler that makes going to work less than joyful. And that’s it, again and always, it’s JOY, and who your with.
Right now I’m with a scorpion on my back, floating down the river with a stinger in my side, sinking, and the while, worrying about not being able to stay in this really cool house, in Florida, and not being able to continue running a business which could recreate anywhere.
But…
I have said my mantra surely 108 times today.
And…
Previously, I was only going to write today about how this “Optimism” writing project was just about to be out of reach, as I haven’t the energy, nor the time to do it anymore. So, now it’s 4 A.M.; and what would ordinarily have been a case of soul sapped forfeiture, has been transmuted into art. Now if I can only get my ass out of bed for my 9 A.M. meeting with Mo, to go check up on our investment properties, I will have witnessed and enjoyed a true miracle of optimism meeting up with a little extra effort.
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