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May. 25th, 2022 08:24 amPeople tell me their secrets, especially at first. They release things they've been carrying to me. They shine light into their lonely places and let me into spots that haven't felt footsteps in a long time. When I'm new I'm safe because I'm so clearly outside where we're supposed to be, right along with them, and I think it helps people to understand that we can make our own supposed-to-be's.
People come into my life when they're ready for a change, when the life they're living becomes unbearable. They come looking for alternatives and hope. The way I live can give people hope, I guess. People come into my life when they're ready to change, and then they do change, and the life they transform into takes them away from me.
We always love people who will go with us into our dark places but we don't always want them around after.
In some ways it's nice, then, to be talking with someone who did his big change five years ago, and then two years ago. There's as much "holy shit, that's possible?" but he's structured his life so whatever he onboards there is nothing to disrupt. He's thought about a life that suits him and he's made it.
I've thought about my life and what suits me, and I've made it. And because we happen to live in the same town there's no need to shift those lives at all in order to overlap some. Thank goodness. That's about all I'm up for right now.
And in the meantime I can engage with all this big crush energy, all this body energy that's had nowhere to go. It's a lot; this is always disruptive and jangly and unfocused and hyperfocused and everything which way at once. I used to enjoy it. Perhaps I'll find my way back to that, this spring.
Morning walks along the lake with gardeners definitely help. Nice as it would be to skip off everything that could be construed as optional, my garden and forming friendships are tremendously grounding.
I'm very interested to see what happens next.
And then I get Tucker for Solstice and Josh is sending me up food to make during zoom dates.
People come into my life when they're ready for a change, when the life they're living becomes unbearable. They come looking for alternatives and hope. The way I live can give people hope, I guess. People come into my life when they're ready to change, and then they do change, and the life they transform into takes them away from me.
We always love people who will go with us into our dark places but we don't always want them around after.
In some ways it's nice, then, to be talking with someone who did his big change five years ago, and then two years ago. There's as much "holy shit, that's possible?" but he's structured his life so whatever he onboards there is nothing to disrupt. He's thought about a life that suits him and he's made it.
I've thought about my life and what suits me, and I've made it. And because we happen to live in the same town there's no need to shift those lives at all in order to overlap some. Thank goodness. That's about all I'm up for right now.
And in the meantime I can engage with all this big crush energy, all this body energy that's had nowhere to go. It's a lot; this is always disruptive and jangly and unfocused and hyperfocused and everything which way at once. I used to enjoy it. Perhaps I'll find my way back to that, this spring.
Morning walks along the lake with gardeners definitely help. Nice as it would be to skip off everything that could be construed as optional, my garden and forming friendships are tremendously grounding.
I'm very interested to see what happens next.
And then I get Tucker for Solstice and Josh is sending me up food to make during zoom dates.
