Here is a link to a conversation I had with my friend Jordan. We had high hopes of creating a podcast, and well- life and mental states got in the way.
I am going to post this link because it sort of sits in my bin of failure. But it isn’t a failure- it was a good conversation with great intent. The failure would be to loose it instead of honor it while honoring a person who has really been an interesting supporting sounding board over time.
Yeah- we didn’t follow through- but we learned a lot in the process, and I am still using what I learned through my failure to follow through in a way that I wanted or expected.
We all experience learning curves. Where we end up may not be what we expected. Luckily 😉 I keep my expectations fairly low to avoid too much disappointment- and that is a lens I am working on.
I believe there is enough for everyone, and I have stuff to share. This isn’t just for me- it is for you, I believe in you.
Okay, perhaps I am remiss here, and jumping the gun in some way- because in my world the year starts in September. It’s the month I was born and things seem to get shifty around that time. That being said- it is only the second day of May.
It is nine months and one day since my Gma passed. I think these things get me in some nine month cycle- it is ingrained in my biology as a woman.
I remember going to massage therapy school and having to start the nine month program over a second time because of life issues. It was brutal joining a new class. I didn’t finish the program.
The funny thing was, I was able to see things I didn’t perceive the first time around. I noticed the disorganization of the administration running the institute. I got caught in the cross hairs of this misadministration. I gave up because I realized I was dealing wholly with massive parasitic energy from the top of the structure, down to the apprentice clinic.
Not much has changed with that battle- the thing I would like to draw attention to, is how this would solidify something with nine month cycles and the way I would look at my past failure.
To finish a nine month program- successfully. Through the lens of failure I would look back and say to my self “you could have finished that program four times by now.”
You could be certified.
You could have a career, a job, a productive part in society.
I kept thinking that way until a condom broke in 2007. By then I could have completed 9.333333333333, nine month massage therapy courses.
I didn’t want to get pregnant. It was a foolish one night stand sort of thing. Then nine months became pivotal in another way. I was rushing to escape the deadline again. Not mature enough to find a finish line without compromise.
When I made that termination, something reset at the back of my mind, and that is the twelve month time line.
This year I would have a fourteen year old. I would probably have a bunch of other perceived failures, but every year would bring something new- maybe to look forward to, in hopes of not regressing into that mindset that nothing changes. Or that I myself am a failure.
I chose to walk another path. I don’t see it as good or bad, in my desire to be neutral.
In retrospect I keep making it another nine months. And if I look back far enough I can see those cycles from beginning to end like the ouroboros. My life is different but very much the same these days. I wonder if the conscious movement to not procreate children is a way that the snake can eat itself. To not bring more into the world than it can digest.
But then on the other hand there has been no time like the present of the Andy Warhol catch phrase “Everyone will have their fifteen minutes of fame.” All eyes/I’s are on US- the United System. So many stories to tell, so many faces to see.
So I basically joined Tiktok, then deleted it. Started a “business” with a friend and joined back up.
I disavowed Facebook and all social media with the exception of Twitter where I do not engage with people in my town.
I know this sounds like- “Where are you going with this?”
I think there is a community of emotionally starved people- and it represents something bigger. I do some dumb content on Tiktok because I get just enough positivity from it to keep going back.
I save my deeper thoughts that I feel like sharing for this blog.
I keep the deepest stuff in my physical journals that I populate with ink.
People are embracing their weirdness and I am very supportive of that- but I feel the same way that I did when I was 20 years old living in the Bay Area- “I am just not weird enough.” Which would be summed down to “I’m just not good enough.”
We all have an audience- I know that to be true, but it doesn’t stop my internal conflict of how much is too much to share of myself. It doesn’t stop the comparison or the desire to just give up because it’s easy to get lost in adoration.
Adoration can be a motivator and a motivation killer. When I see something that I resonate with I am caught in a battle of self that says “you can do that” but will it be better or worse? I often times capitalize on my worst physical attributes and yet in writing, face unseen- I go a different direction of honesty.