Circumstances have settled down just enough for you to take charge of your immediate surroundings. You have been riding a significant wave of change, but the destruction caused by this wave can clear the way for newer and better things to manifest. Keep in mind an image of the mythological Phoenix, a magical bird that arose from the ashes
Saturday, April 15, 2006
I hope the stars are right
This is what my tarot.com horoscope told me this morning:
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Breakthrough
I couldn't decide between breakthrough and uncorked.
Not really able to divulge the breakthrough... it's still too painful to even repeat to those I trust implicitly (god, I almost can't believe that I can say that I am still able to trust implicitly).
So, uncorked.
For so long that I can't remember how long, I have been unable to cry. At first, I thought if I started crying I wouldn't stop and I couldn't be a puddle on the floor. Each day, each month, each year has brought another minor tragedy. I was facing each as the "toughie" who was taught not to cry.
Facing emotions, then, is remarkably difficult without an outlet. But crying always hurt. The tears felt like fire scorching down my face, cutting into my soul. Crying made me feel small and powerless. Beyond vulnerable.
Something happened. Maybe I finally faced the tragedy I thought I couldn't handle, and it shook the cork loose.
It's scary how emotional I have been... how quickly the tears have flowed this past week. But, there it is. Though still painful, there is a relief now that I associate with crying. I feel the tears well, I sigh deeply, and I give in to the crying.
Not really able to divulge the breakthrough... it's still too painful to even repeat to those I trust implicitly (god, I almost can't believe that I can say that I am still able to trust implicitly).
So, uncorked.
For so long that I can't remember how long, I have been unable to cry. At first, I thought if I started crying I wouldn't stop and I couldn't be a puddle on the floor. Each day, each month, each year has brought another minor tragedy. I was facing each as the "toughie" who was taught not to cry.
Facing emotions, then, is remarkably difficult without an outlet. But crying always hurt. The tears felt like fire scorching down my face, cutting into my soul. Crying made me feel small and powerless. Beyond vulnerable.
Something happened. Maybe I finally faced the tragedy I thought I couldn't handle, and it shook the cork loose.
It's scary how emotional I have been... how quickly the tears have flowed this past week. But, there it is. Though still painful, there is a relief now that I associate with crying. I feel the tears well, I sigh deeply, and I give in to the crying.
Friday, April 07, 2006
What would a sports bar for women look like??
I pondered this as I found myself at the Victoria Bar and Grill.
From the outside, it looked like an unassuming little restaurant in a strip mall. I didn't want extremely fast food (Wendy's, etc.); I didn't want moderately fast food (Noah's Bagels); so, my only other choice was this restaurant. It seemed like a family sit down dinner kind of a place from the outside.
But I walked in to full-on happy hour, four large screen tv's and a couple of small tv's -- all with some sport or another. Dark furniture, pub-style, and lots of girls in tight tee-shirts who didn't look like they would be able to buy a drink in the establishment buzzing around. As more and more men walked in to join the bar, one party or another, I gave in to the notion that this was indeed a sports bar masquerading as a family sit down dinner restaurant.
Just when I had come to grips with my dining option, ordered a black velvet (at this place called a poor man's black velvet, though there was no explanation for what a rich man's black velvet might be; for those not in the know, a black velvet, alternately called a snake bite or something else equally non-descriptive to the actual drink is Guinness and cider), a giggling gaggle of women walked in to take over a small area with couches. They were women on a mission to get that spot before more people swooped in to steal their designated area. Note to readers, there were no other groups interested in the designated area!
This made me start to wonder what women would want from a sports bar. I mean, sporty women might want exactly what is available here, though with other sport options on the tv's. But, what about non-sporty women? Surely not all men in the sports bar are there for the sports. Clearly, the ones who couldn't stop staring at the tight shirted waitresses were not really keeping tabs on the score. So, would we get tight shirted waiters? Tight pant waiters??? Would there be a lot more mirrors or a big restroom with primping accoutrements? If only women came in, would we be disappointed?? How would we balance the desire to be comfortable with the need to meet available (if only momentarily) men?
Aside: Momentarily available; this is a little inside joke from one of the last times I went out and a friend was asked by the twelve year old who asked her to dance: "Are you single right now?" As in, were you single when you left the house? Or, will you still be single after you get home? Is it just for the weekend?
So... no decisions on what a sports bar for women, if we needed such a thing, would look like, but fun to muse just the same.
From the outside, it looked like an unassuming little restaurant in a strip mall. I didn't want extremely fast food (Wendy's, etc.); I didn't want moderately fast food (Noah's Bagels); so, my only other choice was this restaurant. It seemed like a family sit down dinner kind of a place from the outside.
But I walked in to full-on happy hour, four large screen tv's and a couple of small tv's -- all with some sport or another. Dark furniture, pub-style, and lots of girls in tight tee-shirts who didn't look like they would be able to buy a drink in the establishment buzzing around. As more and more men walked in to join the bar, one party or another, I gave in to the notion that this was indeed a sports bar masquerading as a family sit down dinner restaurant.
Just when I had come to grips with my dining option, ordered a black velvet (at this place called a poor man's black velvet, though there was no explanation for what a rich man's black velvet might be; for those not in the know, a black velvet, alternately called a snake bite or something else equally non-descriptive to the actual drink is Guinness and cider), a giggling gaggle of women walked in to take over a small area with couches. They were women on a mission to get that spot before more people swooped in to steal their designated area. Note to readers, there were no other groups interested in the designated area!
This made me start to wonder what women would want from a sports bar. I mean, sporty women might want exactly what is available here, though with other sport options on the tv's. But, what about non-sporty women? Surely not all men in the sports bar are there for the sports. Clearly, the ones who couldn't stop staring at the tight shirted waitresses were not really keeping tabs on the score. So, would we get tight shirted waiters? Tight pant waiters??? Would there be a lot more mirrors or a big restroom with primping accoutrements? If only women came in, would we be disappointed?? How would we balance the desire to be comfortable with the need to meet available (if only momentarily) men?
Aside: Momentarily available; this is a little inside joke from one of the last times I went out and a friend was asked by the twelve year old who asked her to dance: "Are you single right now?" As in, were you single when you left the house? Or, will you still be single after you get home? Is it just for the weekend?
So... no decisions on what a sports bar for women, if we needed such a thing, would look like, but fun to muse just the same.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
what's been going through my head/heart/mind
There is a tangle here to unravel.
Questions I need to answer:
What does power look like and/or feel like?
Why is power so desirable for some people (especially in relationships)?
What does the desire to have power actually do to any relationship?
How does one acquire balance? What does it feel like?
I mean, I understand the desire to protect your heart. At least, I can say that I know that feeling vulnerable is uncomfortable for many people, including myself, so I understand the impulse to protect. I not only recognize the sense of being unprotected, I also remember the many times I have tried to protect myself from feeling vulnerable at all. Usually, though, my way of protecting myself is running away from that which I want most.
Lately, I have been trying to understand what feels like an entirely different reaction to vulnerability: power, control, separation of the heart into pieces. It started with he knows something I don't know. It became, I know what he thinks I don't know, and he doesn't know I know. And it becomes very tangled. As I try to feel the power I imagine he feels, I just get more sad. I don't feel powerful; I feel deceptive.
I believe in a relationship, you either trust, or you don't. It may be the reason I keep imagining there cannot be more relationships for me. I don't know how to trust just enough or not quite enough. I am not sure I want to trust again. I am pretty sure I cannot learn to almost trust.
I just don't understand the power that some people derive from undermining trust.
Maybe I am all wrong about it and this isn't about power and control in the conventional sense. Maybe it is all about insecurity. It is just a reaction to insecurity that I don't recognize.
Questions I need to answer:
What does power look like and/or feel like?
Why is power so desirable for some people (especially in relationships)?
What does the desire to have power actually do to any relationship?
How does one acquire balance? What does it feel like?
I mean, I understand the desire to protect your heart. At least, I can say that I know that feeling vulnerable is uncomfortable for many people, including myself, so I understand the impulse to protect. I not only recognize the sense of being unprotected, I also remember the many times I have tried to protect myself from feeling vulnerable at all. Usually, though, my way of protecting myself is running away from that which I want most.
Lately, I have been trying to understand what feels like an entirely different reaction to vulnerability: power, control, separation of the heart into pieces. It started with he knows something I don't know. It became, I know what he thinks I don't know, and he doesn't know I know. And it becomes very tangled. As I try to feel the power I imagine he feels, I just get more sad. I don't feel powerful; I feel deceptive.
I believe in a relationship, you either trust, or you don't. It may be the reason I keep imagining there cannot be more relationships for me. I don't know how to trust just enough or not quite enough. I am not sure I want to trust again. I am pretty sure I cannot learn to almost trust.
I just don't understand the power that some people derive from undermining trust.
Maybe I am all wrong about it and this isn't about power and control in the conventional sense. Maybe it is all about insecurity. It is just a reaction to insecurity that I don't recognize.
Star Jones
Ok, it is really none of my business, and I haven't been following the saga, but I saw her on The View by happenstance today. I have to say, I couldn't actually stand to see her on the screen for very long. She just doesn't look like a normal person to me. Her eyes seemed two sizes too big for her face and she seemed extremely uncomfortable with herself. I remember her as a confident, strong woman who was more comfortable in her skin than I had ever seen any woman of any size.
It made me wonder why NOW of all times, after she has "bagged" her man, does she need to mutilate herself in order to be a size 10. Perhaps if she had started a workout routine and new eating strategy and lost weight slowly and in a more gradual process, we could all (including Star herself) have become accustomed to the new look.
It was truly saddening to me to see this woman, cut in half, physically and, seemingly, emotionally for reasons that I could not understand. Is this all there is to life?
It made me wonder why NOW of all times, after she has "bagged" her man, does she need to mutilate herself in order to be a size 10. Perhaps if she had started a workout routine and new eating strategy and lost weight slowly and in a more gradual process, we could all (including Star herself) have become accustomed to the new look.
It was truly saddening to me to see this woman, cut in half, physically and, seemingly, emotionally for reasons that I could not understand. Is this all there is to life?