May 29, 2013 - Wednesday
Plans to slaughter the assassin within.
That pantone layer that's all wrong has to go. By that I mean the part of me that says things I don't mean but waste my time. Dark colors are fine, they make good art, but the really deprecating stuff is out to get me. Fluffy thoughts don't help much. Badassery does. Must get off my duff and do something. Each action kills off a piece of the monster.
Today this include banal things like exercising at home when I missed my class because of a call from a far-off friend. Going to the dentist for a check-up and a much needed cleanse - accepting that there is irony means it's an act toward removing emotional barnacles as well, even if I roll my eyes as I think it. I also booked a photo shoot for tarot reading gigs that will bring me money sooner than later. I also booked a ritual night with a friend so I could get it off my mind.
The uncrossing candle is burning and the boyfriend is sweetly patient with my woowoo crap.
What I want is so simple - to be needed. Professionally needed. It's the problem with being an entrepreneur. The hustle is to always create a need. When you have a job, there is structure for that. The payoff for self-employment comes with a dose of freedom, but you become a slave to a different master and self-esteem can suffer without constant feedback. The drain can be paralyzing. A project partner would be ideal. Someone to answer to - not like a boss per se, more like call and response.
So, what is the solution? How does one slaughter the emotional assasins? The suicide angels and nasty ear worms? Those whispers that sounds so normal until you examine them!? Like the things you think when you flip through a fashion magazine. Everything from the criticism of other people to the "I could never wear that," which leads to the thousand paper cuts of self loathing sweeping into the and another things. And another thing that's wrong is....
What's the antidote? Which executioner's blade will slice the mean tongue? What sized bullet works on the whispers? Frankly, I'm not sure. Little by little, taking on each attack for now. Action. Any kind of action. Writing counts but blogging only counts for so much. Writing something that has a proper end is satisfying. Doing laundry is a better procrastination that reddit. Washing the dishes is better than Facebook. But editing that thing you're not sure of... editing it to death - completion - that's all right. Finish something.
I made this page to see if I'd continue a semi-secret blog. It's findable but it takes a little muscle.
Today is the first day of this particular attempt at regularity. Let's see how it goes.
May 30, 2013 - Thursday
This is definitely a test. My lack of focus points to a few things. Fear of the task at hand. And also, I am still magically bleeding. Today is stronger after at least a week of spotting after a normal period that was preceded by a week of spotting – and my thinking I would never get my period again. Are my hormones adding to the head squirrels?
Yesterday, I took the opportunity to write in one of my many little black books. It was filled with attempts at healing from my last and very potent outburst of self loathing. The phrase is about “slaughtering the assassin within”. And after some writing, it was clear that it’s not just one – it’s a team. However, one strong approach or weapon, is important to keep these vectors in check. “What is the killer phrase?” was the question I left myself with as we finally drove upstate. We listened to LCD Soundsystem as I fantasized a bit. Thoughts came to answer the query and what became clear, very quickly, is that it has to be a little absurd. You can’t swat away years and years of terrible thought-habit with some foofy positive statement, because the killers will score energy from your vat of cynicism and slice at you where it hurts. You must know that even if what they say is true, it’s unimportant. And if it’s an exaggeration, borne of wanting attention, you have that much more power in the moment.
You must have the humor to combat it and you must use it with the bravado of a ring master who knows better than to wear that outfit to a number of occasions, but would be ok if that happened anyway. It adds up to a very basic, “Yeah, so?” But it must be a statement.
“Yeah, so?” is a question that begs an answer. When you’re vulnerable the answers will hurt. What weapon do you hand over to your child against the bullies? Condescension is a favorite of mine. Feel free to begin with “Fuck you” but it must be followed by something unflappable and self-knowing. It also can’t be a list of attributes because you invite argument. But I’m kind and uplifting to my friends and blahdiblah will only get you, “but you are still fat and ugly”. Of course, that’s not logical, it’s just mean and looking for a reply. The reply I chose to test out has been working because it makes me laugh and puts the silly matters into perspective…. “I AM THE DRAGON MOTHER.” What follows such an ovarian statement are thoughts like – “so it’s ok ” or “because I AM THE DRAGON MOTHER, I don’t think much of your little bullshit opinions.”
Suddenly, deciding to be THE DRAGON MOTHER, worrying about the size of other people’s asses becomes ridiculous. Is that really how the Dragon Mother spends her day? The shift begins immediately.
We went to the deli last night, up here in the near wilderness, and it was pretty full service. 30 seconds into the building, aiming for the beer and wine-product areas, I encountered figurines of Dragons. YEAH MAMA. I quickly picked out two with Pippin’s smiling support, though he knows nothing of my madness. He just thinks I’m female with the ordinary madness, which is fine by me. I use it to distract him from the deeper concerns. I picked a red and a green little dragon, perched and watchful and now guarding my screen as I write. As I chose them in the store, I looked up and saw a greeting card that said, “CONGRATS ON YOUR GRADUATION!” I was going to take a picture of it, but refrained, noting to simply write about it.
This morning I looked in the mirror and my face looked especially large. Yes, I do want to lose weight, but must I attack myself about it? No. I looked at my big face and thought, “Yup. I am the DRAGON MOTHER.” Chortling for a moment, I straightened my posture and went about my day with relatively little self-consciousness. This includes exercising and no snacking.
I thought about the uncrossing candle left to burn in the tub and wondered how far down it was back home. It’s due but may still have a flicker when we return. In any case, I think it did it’s job of reminding me to work on this little project much like the love attraction work I did some years ago. It seems like yesterday. I do want to create a proper ritual to do at xx's house on Saturday, the 8th, for the new moon. A recorded journey of some sort and an action. Maybe we hire a masseuse or reiki person.
In any case, the assassin is weakening but you know the many-pronged wonder is scheming. What's a dragon mother to do? Kick some ass the next time she so much as sniffs out a bitchy little tendril.
Friday, May 31, 2013
So far so good. Calm. Distracted but not anxious. Stopped bleeding. This is interesting because starting today I have 2 weeks without my sweet lover to focus and get new schedule rhythm together.
Busy social calendar today. Barely slept last night after getting in late from upstate and his getting ready for flight. Still exercised to video in the AM. Breakfasted nicely. Tired. OC's residence performance, dinner with NB, walked from Greenpoint to WillyB and went to P's birthday. No real work done. The Dragon Mother thing is interesting. It's NLP pure and simple.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Lack of sleep messes me up. Tomorrow, Sunday, I would like to go to exercise class and go home without meandering anywhere else. It was a P's birthday last night and I went to bed after 3am after a pleasant walk on the bridge with J. By 8ish I was getting texts from JB to make sure he got his phone for his trip and I figured I should go to Barworks class. I went to the 10:45am class and met OC for brunch. I went to Whole Foods and purchased flowers for my favorite goddesses and wondered if I was fair. On the way out, the black cashier admired my orange-yellow roses and the Asian lady customer who followed me admired the peonies. I actually laughed out loud and said thank you. Some work getting done. Nothing impressive.