Duck

Where We Are All At

 Herself speaks.

One of my goals for myself is: to meet people where they are at. 

It's a challenge, because: where, exactly, are they at? 

I know that I want certain things. In particular, I want certain things from certain people. It's important to acknowledge reality, though:  sometimes, what I want is not within the realm of what people are able to provide to me. It's not that they are deficient, or wrong, or otherwise at fault. (Nor am I, come to that.) It's just that we want different things. I need to respect their capabilities and their limitations. (As they do mine.)

Let's take the rabbits as an example. I sure would enjoy if any one of them would let me pat them. I want that. (So much.) However, not a one likes to be patted. My desire to pat a rabbit cannot somehow magically cause them to hop over and sit on my lap for pats. I have to meet them where they are at -- which is to tolerate sitting in the same room, and for me to offer them snacks which they will accept from my hand. That's the best that they, and I, can do together. 

And I must extend this understanding to my People. I want what I want; but what I want is borne of my own needs and desires and hopes. They have their own lives; their own wants and needs; and their own abilities to do and to see and to understand. I need to recognize where they are at, and meet them there. 

The question then becomes: how loudly -- and specifically -- do I speak what I want, in case they are able to meet me at that place of want? And how prepared am I to hear, no, that is not within my capability?  

I want to be understanding of the "no" of others: to be able to say "no" without being criticized or rejected for doing so is a rare gift.  At the same time, my fear of a constant stream of "no" renders it difficult to even ask in the first place.  But if you ask for nothing, you get what you ask for. 

It's a quandary.

It has been pointed out to me more than once, that my ongoing --- inability? failure? hesitancy? --- to specifically state what I need or want, has essentially trained those around me to assume that I can take care of myself and all of the things without help. That's... not inaccurate. Yet all that knowledge does, is make me feel bad for not using the exact right words, or for not asking multiple times, or for otherwise not being *just* the right way to somehow elicit the response that I may have needed at a particular moment. That's not helpful. I don't need that pointed out again.  

The best I can do, I think, is to consider carefully all the factors; to ask for specific things; to understand the "no" that may invariably arise; and to keep going.

One step at a time. 

Front Hall Flashback

Flashback:  Mr. Uncle Tio and Tiny Dog, taking some leisure in the sunshine. 

Good puppies.

 

Neck Pillow

 She's just so... cylindrical. 

Flying Solo

Herself speaks.

There are times when it's clear to me that all of my Important People are up to their eyeballs in Things, and do not have the wherewithal to listen to, or inquire after, me. In those times, I simultaneously want to help them in any way I can (because I love them and don't want them to be overburdened), and want to run away from them (because I myself feel like a burden). 

For example: there may be things in my head that I want to talk about, or current events that are burningly annoying/terrible and warrant discussion. Or I might be having a moment or something is bothering me, or I feel invisible, and I would like nothing more than for someone to ask, "how are you?" Yet my efforts to initiate a conversation don't yield a satisfactory dialog, or there is silence, or there is just enough response to indicate that the person is so immersed in their own morass that it's clear I should not try to continue to elicit anything more. 

What can I do? I cannot will people to devote brain space to inquiring after my wellbeing if they simply don't have the bandwidth. I cannot dig them out of their own bogs. I cannot (will not) provide both sides of the conversation (I talk to myself enough already).  

Eventually, I'm embarrassed that I've tried to initiate a conversation in the first place. I feel needy, ashamed for wanting a listening ear, burdensome. And I want to run away. 

It's hard to convince myself that I am entitled to take up space in the world. 

There is nothing wrong with wanting reassurance, care, a little bit of Love. I freely and willingly give these things to other people -- why is it so difficult to acknowledge that I, too, would like these things? 

I am allowed to ask for what I need (recognizing, always, that asking may yield "no"). Why do I feel like even asking has too high a price? Am I merely avoiding vulnerability by trying to convince myself that I should be able to do All The Things by myself? 

Once upon a time, when I first joined the taekwondo gym and found myself a group of friends, I was so delighted to be freed from the isolation in which I had lived so long as a telecommuter/stay-at-home mom. It was so beautiful to have a group of nearby friends. I thought I might have unlocked the mystery of  People. 

I was mistaken, though. 

Time has passed.  Though I now work in an office, I do not talk meaningfully to (m)any people on a daily basis (though if Beloved Husband is not too busy with work, I may be able to sneak in a conversation with him when he gets back from the gym at 10 PM). The Offspring have all grown and moved out. My one true Friend from the taekwondo gym has moved Oceanside. 

The isolation of the beforetimes has been resurrected. 

I need to Try Again. 

I do not want to Try Again. 

But I know I must. 

For now, though, I shall fly primarily Solo. 

The Club No One Wants To Join

It's Father's Day. Happy Father's Day, Daddy, wherever you may be.

-----

No one wants to belong to the Dead Dads Club on a day dedicated to celebrating fatherhood. The difficulty of the day snuck up on me: I did not contemplate in advance, the multitude of extra factors that would add to the complexity of Feelings of today. 

Perhaps I had subconsciously/purposefully not thought about them. Or perhaps I had simply overestimated my ability to march through the day unscathed. 

I did manage to get a few useful tasks done around the house, but there was no accomplishing anything truly substantive. I feel Bad about that. I will try again tomorrow. 

-----

There is a kernel of childlike desire that still dwells deep within my heart, and it is never more apparent than it is on Father's Day. It is a primordial longing: take my hand, tell me that you are happy to be here with me, that I am doing a good job, and that it will all be OK. Ask nothing of me, but love me as I am, without condition. 

And I would be healed. 

Happy Pride

 It's Pride Month.  Happy Pride, lovely LGBTQIA+ peoples. Times are especially hard in the USA right now, for so many Reasons.  Whether or not you know where you may fall in the spectrum of sexuality or gender or attraction; whether you have told the World, or only a couple of people, or no one except for perhaps yourself; however your journey on your path of Self has progressed:  know that you are perfect -- and accepted here -- exactly as you are. 

Love, and people, come in as many permutations as there are stars in the sky. Find your star. 

-----

I am glad that there is so much more open information and discussion now than there ever was before. To have words to describe what one is feeling, to know that one is not alone -- what blessings for people who are struggling or are unsure about how they feel. 

For example, this website helps parse the different types of attraction. Attraction can be sexual, romantic, aesthetic, sensual, emotional, or intellectual -- each is slightly different.  Romantic attraction (the subject matter of so much of the entertainment industry) can then be broken down further -- aromantic, demiromantic, biromantic, heteroromantic, homoromantic, panromantic, and others. Sexuality can be similarly parsed: heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, more. There are other ways to describe the variety of human experience, too - nonbinary, gender/sexually fluid, queer. The permutations, as varied as people themselves.

Why do we need so many words, so many slices? People like to understand themselves and others. Sometimes, if we can find just the right word, we can understand better.  For example, if I state that I am heterosexual and demisexual/demiromantic, a clearer picture of who I am emerges. While the type of person to whom I might be attracted ultimately would matter only to people seeking to date me, the information provides context about my life. How did I grow up and what challenges do I face in expressing myself as a person? How difficult is it for me to find community? How dangerous is it for me to talk about my partner or even to make small talk about Hollywood stars I find attractive? These things are all relevant to who I am as a person. 

Some people say, people shouldn't talk about these things because they shouldn't matter. And that's true - it shouldn't matter. People should all be free to talk about who they are and who they love, without fear of rejection, condemnation, reprisal; and without danger to loved ones or to their lives. And until that point is reached, we celebrate Pride. 

Happy Pride. I am here for you, my friends. 

Capy T

 This is HILARIOUS. Thank you, FaceBook, for bringing it to my attention. 

Here We Go Again

 Herself speaks.

Had my annual dermatology visit for Pelt Review recently.  It's always both a concern an annoyance - I don't spend a lot of time looking in the mirror, and I'm always worried that I will have missed some sort of problem that should be addressed. I do look at my face and ask about any Suspect Spots there since that's where the three prior MOHS surgeries have been located. This time, almost as an afterthought, I asked about a small circular spot on my upper chest. It's been there a while, hasn't grown or done much of anything, but it has not gone away, either. 

Aaaaand, biopsy it was. Small win - at least it wasn't on my face this time. 

Results are, as expected, another basal cell carcinoma.  (No amount of hiding from the sun can save me from the UV damage of my youth, even though I'm essentially crepuscular now.) And so I go back in another month to have a wider excision, to make sure it is all gone. 

Again, small win - not on my face. It'll be a bit of an ugly scar, but not particularly noticeable unless I'm wearing a V-neck shirt.

I am so tired of this. Every few years, though, I can expect it again. The price I pay for existing, really. 

Bun and Bun

 Like the kitties, the bunnies, too, are photogenic. 

I do wish they'd let me pat them more, but I'll be satisfied with some nice pictures. It warms my heart to see them with their fur-companions - everyone should be so content. 

Duet Under A Tree

A long marriage is two people trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time. ― Anne Taylor Fleming

Herself speaks.

While Beloved Husband and I were at our alma mater a couple of weekends ago, we took a walk out to the golf course near campus. We looked carefully, and we found we found what we are sure is the tree under which he proposed, thirty-six years ago. It has grown quite a bit in the intervening years, and is just as beautiful now as it was then.

I don't think either of us had any idea way back then what the future would hold. And now, here we are -- we have been through so many years together, so many milestones. The only thing I knew back then when he asked me to marry him, was: I wanted to be the very best wife I could be for him. I still do today. I still try, every day. 

I am fortunate in that after all this time, even beyond love, I also like Beloved Husband. He's smart. He's funny. He's curious about the world and always learning new and interesting things to share. He wants the best for his children. He is devoted to his family and to his friends. 

He's the Quintessential Congenial Person: Cheerful, Charming, Likeable, Talented. Everyone loves him. The only problem with this, is that there is not enough of him to go around. So many demands on his attention and his time. It must be hard for him to prioritize, being pulled in so many different directions at once. Sometimes (oftentimes) I feel as though I get short shrift. Not something I considered under that tree, so many years ago. But what is to be done? I cannot change What Is. 

The best I can do is work on my own solo dance, until he is available for moments of our duet. 

Basket Case

The kitties really are so photogenic.  And it is very nice to have a small furry face peeking out the window when I come home from work. 

I miss my dog-friends. I am not accepting any new responsibilities right now, though.  The rabbits (and occasional kitty-sitting) are enough. 

I do enjoy a good picture, though. 

The Dark Side of the Moon

 Today's earworm: Love the Hell Out of You (Lewis Capaldi).

You got your demons, spent seasons on the dark side of the moon 

Don't try denying ‘cause you know that I've been there too 

Right now I know how it feels like the world’s gonna end 

But I'll get you through 

If it's the last thing I do 

I’m gonna love the hell out of you 

Take all the pain that you're going through 

I'll bring you heaven if that's what you need 

‘Cause you've always loved the hell out of me.

I love the idea of this song -- that one person's love can somehow eliminate the darkness that haunts someone else. I think that many of us who are rescuers (or who would secretly like a bit of rescuing ourselves) are attracted to the idea that Love Cures All, Love Saves All. If only that were true. 

The world is so messy. Life is complex, and both beauty and pain can be found in so many places. One person cannot fix another. What we can do, though, is be a safe harbor in times of need. And that might be good enough.

Sweet Sixteen

 Sixteen years ago, I arrived. 

It's been quite the journey.  (The past year, in particular, has been... a bit much.) Posting has been slow at times, verbose at others, and there have been many, many moments of introspective ruminations. 

Thank you, gentle readers, for wandering on this journey with me. It is good to have the Company, and I am Grateful. 

One we go.