recently repotted

jean likes to say, "if you're not pressing against your limits, they're closing in on you."

i've spent a lot of my life putting myself in too-small boxes: tolerating abusive relationships, staying underpaid and underemployed, and so forth. rather than press against my limits, i created these artificial walls. i wanted to feel held, i wanted to be enclosed, i thought that being able to touch one wall with each hand meant that i was safe. cymbidiums like a crowded pot.

but: comfort and safety aren't the same thing.

now that i find myself with dream job, appreciative boss, supportive colleagues, good therapist, respectful friends, big house, grownup housemate/partner -- it's a bit vertiginous. how do i know where the edges are? there's so much *space* around me now.

fiddle dee dee

feels like i didn't do enough today. lalalala, i can't hear you, voice of negativity!

fpc (food-pharmaceuticals-coffee), then talked with the student i stood up on tuesday. twas a productive hour-long conversation about sexism and racism. whee. then talked to kaiser and got info about obtaining glasses that actually enhance vision. went swimmin' w/jean. i did half a mile, albeit a bit slower than the other day. then we had a perfectly swell lunch at the restaurant that we dare not name because it already takes too damn long to get the food.

then i was late to supervision, and was looked at reproachfully by twig the first. twig the second was just asking to be snapped. attention, wannabe therapists everywhere! the time to say to a client, "i have to be honest here" is? NEVER! NEVER EVER EVER! EVER!

gah. only the sure knowledge that i said *much* stupider things when i was a twig stayed my tongue.

then went to the bowl, then on to see dr. crackcorn, whereupon i was a bit of a pill. i'm overstimmed and cranky. a bit of tivo and spot to cool my jets, then to bed, tomorrow being, i am reliably informed, another day.

on the horns of a dilemma

woke up with a headache like my head against a board
twice as cloudy as i'd been the night before
and i went in seeking clarity

feeling quite low this morning. seems odd to speak of manic defenses in someone as much in love with lying down as i am; nevertheless.

the dilemma is this: if i stay in the moment, i don't suffer; suffering comes from leaning forward, or back. but without looking forward or back (without suffering?), how do i change? how do i grow?

neither prey nor foe

it was purple dusk, the beginning-time of night. fireflies were out. o. was tending to plants on the patio, with her back to the woods. i had gone inside, but turned back to say something to her. that was when i saw the mountain lion.

she was padding through the trees, coming our way. i went to my knees to block the open door so that spot wouldn't bolt, and so that the mountain lion wouldn't see her. i said quietly, "do. not. move." of course o. said, what? why not? i said "mountain lion. don't move a muscle."

the lion was curious about us, ranging in wide arcs but narrowing in on me in particular. so beautiful she was, so powerful, so strong, so fully alive. i watched her as long as i dared, then as she got within a few yards i lowered my eyes so that she wouldn't feel challenged. i said to o., "be very still now." the lion edged forward. i closed my eyes and waited. her warm breath stirred my hair as she investigated me. i filled my mind with thoughts of love, admiration, respect, pleasure in her presence.

when i opened my eyes, she was gone.