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"That’s why the story's told"
Apr. 12th, 2013 10:43 amWherein our heroine proves to herself after an appropriate period of whining, she is totally capable of focusing on the good stuff.
So, for the most part, I've gotten in touch with my homebody feelings. I've learned not to chase people, I've identified the need to learn how to sit with myself, hell there are times when I actually like the quiet. But some days, the lack of plans with not-husband people freaks me the fuck out. And I know it's temporary and not even entirely true that I don't have plan. Feste's visiting tomorrow, I'm going to my soon-to-be sister-in-law's bridal shower, I might see Coolidge this weekend. (okay, so it's maybe a little heavy on the family side of things.)
And I've got these things on my list that I want to do, some of which Light will happily come to, some of which he'll be indifferent but willing, some of which I'll do entirely by myself. And I made awesome plans with Delight for her birthday, and I've reached out to Unexpected for another visit, and any second now I'll call the ccae and switch from the flute lesson that isn't happening anymore to either a class about the solar system or a class about decoupage. There's craftboston spring show, and the local is for lovers at the armory, and though I completely spaced on actually ordering tickets, maybe a Ty show at Passim on Monday. There's volunteering and an interesting lecture at the Peabody, and the SoS Artist's Choice show, and the Science Festival.
The time I managed to overcome my inertia and actually specifically invite people, by email, to a thing I wanted to do, I had a glorious rate of response and it was awesome. But mostly, I still don't like to ask questions that I get no answers to (or can't handle the answer "no" to), so instead I address the world at large, here or in g+, and that doesn't work out as well for me, and I begin to feel anxious and all doom-and-gloom.
Bespoke once said something, and I'm paraphrasing here, about the difference between friends and special friends (he did not use those terms, that's all on me) being whether or not you actually had a specific plan for hanging out with them again in the future. Again, total paraphrase, and maybe not even the place the line was actually drawn. But that's what I always, endlessly, want, to know the next time I get to see someone. They feel like talismans, things to keep the anxiety at bay, ways to self-soothe that don't actually involve endless cups of tea or the small furry animals that live with me. And I almost never know how to ask for that, or when I do, I feel like I've bumbled it badly.
Often, as I'm carrying my seven bags of things around on the bus or the train, I feel like I'm taking up way too much space, and that everyone else in the world is less clumsy than I, and is handling being a commuter with more poise than I ever could possibly have, that I'm mismanaging the combination of my shoulder bag/my gym clothes/the lunch I pack/umbrella/parasol whatever else it is that the day's travels contain. It's sort of like everyone but me knows where their boundaries are, and I'm just a disaster waiting to happen. I think I feel that way about my wants or the way I socialize as well, that there's this unspoken boundary that I blunder my way through and sometimes it's charming and sometimes it's just me putting my muddy footprints all over everything.
The days will fill, I know that. And not just with work and the gym and mopping things, but with people I adore who will say interesting things and make me exceptionally pleased that there is a world with these people in it, and that's also almost not the point, that even though what I find of spirituality I find in interactions with other people, sometimes it's kind of awesome to spend a day doing fuck-all.
So today, I will mop the bedroom, watch more episodes of Supersizers, find a birthday present for Saint. I will cross-stitch, finish Lady Victoria's Book of Spells. I'll start on re-reading and revamping Readercon documents, and I'll even go to Diesel to do so, all by myself, and I'll peoplewatch for a while. Hell, maybe I'll even acknowledge that I had a lung infection and take a nap. Nothing falls down if I cut myself a day, a week or even a month of slack. Gaily forward can be the watchword even when I'm sitting on the couch.
So, for the most part, I've gotten in touch with my homebody feelings. I've learned not to chase people, I've identified the need to learn how to sit with myself, hell there are times when I actually like the quiet. But some days, the lack of plans with not-husband people freaks me the fuck out. And I know it's temporary and not even entirely true that I don't have plan. Feste's visiting tomorrow, I'm going to my soon-to-be sister-in-law's bridal shower, I might see Coolidge this weekend. (okay, so it's maybe a little heavy on the family side of things.)
And I've got these things on my list that I want to do, some of which Light will happily come to, some of which he'll be indifferent but willing, some of which I'll do entirely by myself. And I made awesome plans with Delight for her birthday, and I've reached out to Unexpected for another visit, and any second now I'll call the ccae and switch from the flute lesson that isn't happening anymore to either a class about the solar system or a class about decoupage. There's craftboston spring show, and the local is for lovers at the armory, and though I completely spaced on actually ordering tickets, maybe a Ty show at Passim on Monday. There's volunteering and an interesting lecture at the Peabody, and the SoS Artist's Choice show, and the Science Festival.
The time I managed to overcome my inertia and actually specifically invite people, by email, to a thing I wanted to do, I had a glorious rate of response and it was awesome. But mostly, I still don't like to ask questions that I get no answers to (or can't handle the answer "no" to), so instead I address the world at large, here or in g+, and that doesn't work out as well for me, and I begin to feel anxious and all doom-and-gloom.
Bespoke once said something, and I'm paraphrasing here, about the difference between friends and special friends (he did not use those terms, that's all on me) being whether or not you actually had a specific plan for hanging out with them again in the future. Again, total paraphrase, and maybe not even the place the line was actually drawn. But that's what I always, endlessly, want, to know the next time I get to see someone. They feel like talismans, things to keep the anxiety at bay, ways to self-soothe that don't actually involve endless cups of tea or the small furry animals that live with me. And I almost never know how to ask for that, or when I do, I feel like I've bumbled it badly.
Often, as I'm carrying my seven bags of things around on the bus or the train, I feel like I'm taking up way too much space, and that everyone else in the world is less clumsy than I, and is handling being a commuter with more poise than I ever could possibly have, that I'm mismanaging the combination of my shoulder bag/my gym clothes/the lunch I pack/umbrella/parasol whatever else it is that the day's travels contain. It's sort of like everyone but me knows where their boundaries are, and I'm just a disaster waiting to happen. I think I feel that way about my wants or the way I socialize as well, that there's this unspoken boundary that I blunder my way through and sometimes it's charming and sometimes it's just me putting my muddy footprints all over everything.
The days will fill, I know that. And not just with work and the gym and mopping things, but with people I adore who will say interesting things and make me exceptionally pleased that there is a world with these people in it, and that's also almost not the point, that even though what I find of spirituality I find in interactions with other people, sometimes it's kind of awesome to spend a day doing fuck-all.
So today, I will mop the bedroom, watch more episodes of Supersizers, find a birthday present for Saint. I will cross-stitch, finish Lady Victoria's Book of Spells. I'll start on re-reading and revamping Readercon documents, and I'll even go to Diesel to do so, all by myself, and I'll peoplewatch for a while. Hell, maybe I'll even acknowledge that I had a lung infection and take a nap. Nothing falls down if I cut myself a day, a week or even a month of slack. Gaily forward can be the watchword even when I'm sitting on the couch.
