Sep. 18th, 2003

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Picture this to yourself.

The park lies next to a curve of ocean, grey swells spilling rhythmically up along the beach. Cool and wet, the air is thick with the warm woodsy scent of fallen maple leaves and crisp with salt air and seaweed. Rain drifts down from the flat white sky above, settling with an almost-silent sigh into the soaked grass and across the trees. The rain falls, too, on a long board that was once painted red, its carnival brightness muted now in the light and peeling with years of weather. It's set at an angle, leaning rakishly over a green pipe that extrudes from the ground and turns a pair of right angles before plunging back downwards: a seesaw, a teetertotter, replaced now in most parks by safer apparatus.

Life isn't always safe, though, and it's so proven when a girl emerges from the mist-obscured edges of the park and climbs onto the old board. She steps on one side and walks up to the middle, to the hinge, to the balance point where she sets one foot on either side.

At first the board levels. Parallel to the ground it supports her weight restlessly, the long ends quivering with little human movements as she tries to steady it. The ends swing more sometimes and less others, quiver giving way to swing and magically, once in awhile, to a momentary stillness.

The stillnesses give way suddenly to wild swings, some little shift in balance bringing one end of the board nearer the ground and one nearer the sky. After some time the figure on the board leans into a swing: the edge splashes in the mud, the other points to unseen mountains beyond the ocean. She leans the other way, then, and the board shudders just a little as it thunks on the soggy grass. Back and forth, back and forth: it's easy to find a steady rhythm that sends those muted thunks and splashes out to deaden in the misty edges of the park. Abandoning the attempts at stasis she controls the movement now, dancing with the inevitable tug of gravity at each end. She easily achieves some kind of balance, surrendering as she does to shift after shift.

Well

Sep. 18th, 2003 10:58 pm
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At least the comfortable happy periods are coming more frequently now. I'm actually working through issues at a decent speed again, something that's been missing from my life for... months? years? I can't remember. The group sex thing is on its way to being resolved. I've put crutches in and don't anticipate needing them up for more than a couple of weeks and in the meantime I'm making good progress. (Curious, aren't you? I said the s-word)

The stuff that's bothering me lately isn't actually my own stuff, exactly. This is polyamoury(polyamory for you in the US) at its finest: I'm worried a bit about the relationship between my boyfriend and my girlfriend. I'm at my best when I'm having a bit of a complex problem that related to my own unconscious stuff and can dive in, light up, simplify, and fix. I'm at my worst when I need to sit and watch other people grind gears, talk past each other, just not mesh perfectly. It's hard for me in any combination (I just love saying this sort of stuff): hard when my girlfriend and my boyfriend-who-is-her-husband are having issues, hard when my girlfriend and my SO are having issues, and no doubt it would be hard for me if my boyfriend and the SO were having issues.

Incidentally, the word 'boyfriend' is completely amusing -- makes me feel like I'm in fifth grade, which is why I'm using it. Gigglyish, despite the undercurrent of seriousness in what I'm writing.

I'm home at the Abby apartment tonight, then I'm at the Vancouver apartment in the morning while the SO sleeps and me and TOW clean, then who knows? This weekend feels a lot more fluid than the ones before.

It's still hard for me to believe that I'm not imposing on TOW and the Juggler by staying there so much. This is the second full-ish week I've spent there this month. I can't believe they actually -want- me.

It's a bit of a struggle to keep going in this rain. I want to curl up in front of the fire with a book and not go anywhere, but I really don't have that option. Once you get outside it's not so bad, actually, and the city looks and smells and sounds like it's supposed to again, grey and wet, which sounds a lot worse than it actually is.

It's great running weather, and how many times have I said I'll start running again? Enough. I'll tell you when I do, and stop talking about it until then.

I've read a couple of Neil Postman books now, speaking of books. I feel so sorry for him. He sounds so disappointed that his ideas haven't been taken and embraced wholesale, and in fact so disappointed and defeated about America in general. The books kind of grow increasingly more hurt...

I've bought myself some halloween candy to eat already. Yay, food!

And my throat is definitely sore. The Juggler coughed, TOW and the SO sniffled, I'm just sore/swollen/tender with no outward display. Pah.

Now, to sleep if I can, other stuff sooner or later than that. Oh! With the rain I'm sleeping through the night again (unless I need to wake up and turn the light off over the Juggler on the couch at 5am because he can't sleep lying down due to the cough. Or find a bedmate who hasn't wandered in to sleep by 4am. But I -do- get back to sleep quickly. Sigh).

This has been a totally random entry. Be well, take care, and good night.

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