I had espresso for the first time this summer about three hours ago. & I had four shots of it.
In fact, I spent much of today channelling my inner balding fat forty year old man. The involved “ja herb,” a sex shop, and pizza; no exercise or meditation. Earlier I wanted to meditate on why it felt impossible to do anything healthy, but I realized that today was not going to set a pattern; I just needed a day off to break patterns. Minor rebellions are healthy. And honestly, right now I feel far happier than I have in the past week.
Of course, espresso means energy and I am home alone and people are in Boise or in bed (or both)! I spent about two and a half hours with Kate that served to remind me how much I miss spending time with her. She is always full of great recommendations, knowledge, and exuberant passion for learning, yet I barely play with her. I’m only in Idaho for seventeen more days, but it’s my goal to spend those days around people who make me feel excited about life. Kate is looking into purchasing my car, so I’m ecstatic for the excuse to see her a few more times, even if it’s under the pretense of business.
Recently, I’ve been made aware of the difference between genuine happiness and security happiness. I know they fall into a twisted sort of false dichotomy, but with so much change occurring in my near future, I’ve been unconsciously grasping for anxious attachment. I hold Devin too tightly. I fall into routines that may serve me in health-wise, but don’t allow me the freedom to write in my pjs or eat food with gobs of carbon-unfriendly cheese. Some ritual does serve to make me genuinely happy– like going to Neurolux with Ryan and scrutinizing the jukebox with prayers for the perfect songs, or shopping at the farmers’ market and chatting up the farmers about organic produce even though I know so little about it (in comparison to a farmer)– but other rituals simply prevent me from going out to lunch with Brianne or seeing Nick before he goes to work. The dead rituals need to be altered. I am too alive to simply find the easiest way to survive.
I had an epiphany related to happiness//security at the Embodiment Project last weekend. Faithful readers and friends could tell you that I’ve been considering a life less radical lately, but going and seeing these wonder-full women making their ideas a reality in such a positive way made me realize how much ideas of settling down are related to that security happiness– the dull happiness that comes with being safe rather than fulfilled and buzzing with life! I was rushed with awareness of my current insidious unconscious security-grab, and I realized that I am way too young and way too bold and way too weird to make babies just yet. My ability to live and write poetry are so clamped by security happiness. I LOVE LOVE LOVE genuine happiness, and I know that’s what attracted Devin to me in the first place, so no wonder things haven’t been weightless between us lately– we’ve been settling for the dredges of just-so happy when we have the potential to appreciate each other as individuals who can seek out and create joy! I can find joy on my own:
Last week I was walking home from feeding Kylie’s cats and I found a picked flower discarded on the sidewalk. I don’t own a vase so now it’s blossoming in a lemonade container on my kitchen table.
I like to peel carrots.
Molly was giving away two bags of clothing last weekend, and Brenda and I tried on about ten shirts in her sweltering apartment. I found a hot pink tanktop with a built-in bra, the first ever that contains my yoga-shrunk breasts. I want to wear it every day.
I masturbated mid-day today, then ordered a pizza.
Possibilities: late night yoga; paint my toenails red; write long emails to those I’ve neglected in past weeks; edit poetry; finish the fallen soldier on the coffee table; arts ‘n crafts; make endless lists…
