11:33 AM; 3027 Logan—kitchen
Basking in the sun while I have it—one of the precious blue sky mornings of winter. NPR plays on the radio. I drink smokey tea.
Last night I went out to dinner with Molly for date #3 and afterward she helped me retrieve my guitar stuff from Bryant’s studio and we came back here, drank tea, played Star Realms, and proceeded to have beautifully intimate, satisfying sex. I really like her, and this morning I woke up electrified at 6:00 AM and obsessed over what may happen in the future when she moves to LA. Thankfully I fell back asleep.
It’s amazing what a little sunshine and seratonin/oxytocin can do—I feel bright and inspired, like I could write poetry again—something I haven’t done in ages.
Two nights ago, my roommate Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table working on art while listening to audio meditations, and so I joined him and drew a pastel portrait of Futurista. It was so great to work on art again in good company. I am finding happiness in such dark times, which gives me hope.
Andy just walked in carrying a yoga mat—reminds me that I need to join the rock climbing gym. I am working off my debt steadily, and now I’m hoping to be able to afford regular travel…
As I was talking with Maia a few days ago,, as I told Molly last night, diaries have this way of reminding us that we encounter the same lessons over and over again, and we can only hope we eventually catch on and embed the learned lesson into our psyche. Whenever I start a new journal, I wonder what history will be written, and I wonder what repeated lesson will be recorded. Perhaps I will take a few moments now to recall some difficult lessons in the hope of avoiding them in the future.
In love, I’ve learned that I have the tendency to become trapped in the romance of a non-existent potential. I need to focus on the present—check in and evaluate my reality. If I cannot find health and happiness in my present reality, if I cannot take immediate action to make it so, then perhaps I am being blinded by my imagination.
In work, I’ve learned that assertiveness doesn’t always serve my goal to self-advocate, for whatever reason, and it may be wise to take the backseat and save my ideas/ambition for my own private projects. I wonder when the moment will come that I will earn the right to be my assertive self.
In art, I’ve learned that I have unreasonable expectations for myself, which hinders my work in every regard. I need to give myself more freedom and less judgement. Whatever artist I am is enough.
In family, I’ve learned that my family is like every other: deeply flawed, heartbreaking, and difficult. I must continue the work of differentiation, strive to listen to myself first, and practice boundaries.
In general, I still suffer imposter’s syndrome, low self esteem, and insecurity. I should remember: I am still all of myself all of the time, but circumstance blinds me in darkness if I don’t take care of myself. I am talented. I am intelligent. I am capable. I am ambitious, creative, productive, valuable. It’s a scary world, and it would seem to work to silence me and others like me, but that doesn’t change who I am. Thank goodness.
Writing these affirmations is actually emotional for me—I am embarrassed, sad that I am not my own ally most of the time.
Mom and Dad text. Time to go.