Dallying in the shallows

You can't travel or think or write or talk away sadness or your own weird behaviors and entrenched ways of being in the world. I knew that already, or thought I did. Bad habits and racing thoughts and ill-advised actions can creep up no matter where you are, and it's quite possible to feel most like a fraud when that's the exact opposite of the stated goal. 

I hate this. I'm not in a very good mood today. 

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Why is it so hard to ask for what I need? (I erased "we." I apparently suck at owning any of this.) Why is it so much easier to put up the dukes and then shut down, over and over again? Why do I fight with what I love, all by myself, which is to say, why do I reject it like I want to be a solitary asshole with a chorus of the pathetic sads for the rest of days? Where does the habit form of ending declarative statements with erasures like "Well, I don't really know," or "Yeah, I guess so" or "Maybe."

It's a horrible sickness, a huge problem, all of it. It's fear and stupidity and learned unhelpful behavior combined, is what it is. It makes things very, very difficult. It's made me very, very tired. 

I have so much in front of me and it's what I miss that looms. It's so stupid. Man, did I just steamroll through another chapter, or what? I'm trying to feel like I didn't completely fuck it up. 

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I kid you not, just as I typed that, Elan sent me the prompt for a list of things I miss, because she is my magic person (She really is. It's uncanny.) My list could explode from missing, and is largely unedited. I'd go back and erase a few for loser image-management, but why not just be completely vulnerable while it's all going down anyway? 

1. my family

2. my bed

3. my best friends

4. my dogs

5. sense of purpose in a job

6. New York

7. New Orleans

8. the Atlantic Ocean

9. my earlier blogging life 

10. the Beastie Boys 

11. my students

12. that awesome PowerShot with the foldout back

13. family dinners

14. even Ohio, sometimes

15. time in the darkroom

16. getting my pictures off of the computer

17. cooking

18. Yoga

19. being pre-hypertensive 

20. the Beetle

20a. my bed

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There's so much I don't miss, too. I just thought I'd give it a shot. And this is just what's up today, the antechamber that's all cluttered up with rusty bikes and candy wrappers and bad dreams, so it's tough to get through to the other stuff, and I always have trouble locating my broom and trash bags at times like this.

I am antsy, anxious to get to work, which is actually funny. Maybe it's my distinct, selfish sense of not being on the right coast on 9.11, which seems to be messing with my head hardcore.  I went to bed last night thinking about New York, and I woke up this morning thinking about New Orleans, of all things. Skyscraper jazz. Crawfish Manhattans with a couple of extra cherries. That all sounds good, except I have to drive so far again. 

Then I got an email from a friend who needs some help that as it turns out I can reach back into another intellectual and professional life and probably provide pretty well. I started rifling through old resources and links, and wondered why I ever stopped, then how I could start again, maybe, better.

That, along with some posts I read this morning and my strong remembering of everyone whose lives ended and were changed forever, distinctly made me want to be of use. (That is a link to a Marge Piercy poem of the same name. It's good, if you're not familiar.) I think this is the most important pull -- the only useful way of dealing with sadness and weird behaviors, a better side of my less helpful, more entrenched ways of being in the world. 

I'm just rambling now. 

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And especially today, I think of Marty and Chuck, and their families. I don't have access to a candle today like the past couple of years, but I'm lighting it in my mind. I remain so sorry for the loss of so many, and for the loss of you. 

Comments

[Schmutzie]

I'm writing my own list right now. It's one of those days where I miss everything. Moving forward is hard.

[Laurie]

It is, my darlin'. It is. I truly understand. I'm just going to let it be that way today until it's over. You are welcome to join me. I'll bring an egg timer.

[LetterB]

Pebble. xo

[Teri H.]

To me, "to be of use" means "to matter" and I think that's a desire for all of us.

I want to matter.

[Casey]

I want to write that list, but sometimes I am so good at keeping all the sadness buried that I'm afraid to open the door and go inside. That if I go there, I will never come back.

[Kim]

Part of me wants to write a list of things I miss; another part of me thinks I don't do anything else. I will try it, anyway, and see if I say anything new.

[Deb Rox]

Marge Piercy, such a hard-working midwestern worker bee. I took a memoir workshop with her years ago at Wakulla Springs, and she was very kind. She had bruised fruit in her bag and so many papers. I love your title, didn't recognize that it was from her poem.

[Lilliana Isherwood]

Greetings! Very useful advice within this post! It's the little changes that produce the greatest changes. Many thanks for sharing!

[Jasmine Ada]

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