my new boyfriend: Shakespeare

I'm watching the BBC "Shakespeare Retold" series on Netflix. Tonight, I watched the "Much Ado About Nothing" episode.

Much to the dismay of old, more romantically pragmatic Faye, these days I'm feeling secretly hopeless romantic-y. Whaa? AND I'm on a dating moratorium. For who knows how long. I have decided to date Shakespeare for a bit; because, I'm nerdy like that.

I was never the girl who dreamily imagined my wedding day or had lots of crushes on boys. I was terrified, since before I ever dated, of losing myself in relationships. For reals; I was the youngest cynic ever. 

Love. Love. Love. Who knows what's real and what isn't real out there; I'm not sure what I believe in these days, and I guess it's not time to know. "More will be revealed," I am often being told these days. Wisdom. And so maybe stuff like this only exists in literature, but I find the words of Beatrice hopeful for the kind of relationship I would secretly one day hope is for reals. Secretly. Maybe. Okay, yes. I duuuunnnno.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."

- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, 4.1

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

                    Analysis (from Faye's lurve schema):

                I like the analysis below; however, it is my opinion/feeling that, whether over                    lifetimes or what not, the purpose behind a romantic relationship always becomes complete at some point (probably!).  So, I don't know if I could say that the only love that is true is also an ever fixed mark; unless we can say we're talking about love in general and not necessarily romantic love.  As hopeless romantic-y as I am, I don't know about forever.  It feels presumptuous (for me). 

 


Analysis (from Wikipedia):


The poet begins by stating he should not stand in the way of true love. Love cannot be true if it changes for any reason. Love is supposed to be constant, through any difficulties. In the sixth line, a nautical reference is made, alluding that love is much like the north star to sailors. Love should not fade with time; instead, true love lasts forever. When it says "Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom," Shakespeare is saying that love is timeless, and only death can do it part.
The last two lines employ a paradoxical conceit. If there is no such thing as true love, the poet says that neither has he ever written, nor has anyone ever experienced true love. However, because the poem has been written, it means the poet, ultimately, is right about true love.

shit that scares me: finally being alone.

(my little sister with our dad's guitar)

And by alone, I mean aloooone. Margaret, are you with me, perhaps? Apparently, I have a Higher Power who will make sure I'm ok as I finally accept the changes in my life. I have threatened to kick some serious ass if this is not true. Not out loud. But for reals- I'm gonna.

Seems like as good a time as any to finally learn to play the guitar. I hope I like it. Everyone in my family seems to play, and it looks fun. Listening to my dad play guitar growing up is among my favorite memories. You know, it occurred to me: for someone who is so passionate about the arts, I've not tried them, really. What's up with that?

p to the owerless = s to the erenity

(Someone should teach me how to use my Canon Rebel- I kinda like this eerie feel, but I wish I knew how to catch the actual blackbirds. Faye advice window = open.)

Serenity comes and goes.

The aspect of this which leaves me grateful and hopeful is that as my sense of serenity waxes and wanes, my own capacity, or my edge, still advances forward. In fact, the dim light of my waning serenity seems to correlate to the advancement of my emotional frontier.

That’s growth, people.

In education, we refer to Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development. Stay with me- this is so not “yawn.” If I spice it up with my whitegirlfromthecountry urban funk, would that help?! Fo’ shizzle. Fellow constructivism junkies, gather round the campfire…

The Z to the one of Proximal Development. This, playa’ hate-a’, is the place of optimal learning to where we try to steer our children; it could be defined as the particular p to the osition in which one is able to advance only with a bit of scaffolding, or support. Um…gin and juice. Grills. To the window. To the wall…The idea is that then, those particular supports may be removed. The frontier has advanced, and now, the classroom supports you in your new position. And so on, my bitches. Hate the game, hate the game.

The way I explain it to my students, whom I try to train to choose their own difficulty levels, etc., is something like this:

“If you feel a little bit confused, and you have to think hard, try out different ideas or get a bit of help from tools around the room, me or each other- you are in the right place. If you are so confused that you have no idea what you are doing, you need to take a step back- don’t worry! You’ll get there, but not by jumping ahead. If you are doing something that is super easy, you are probably not growing today, and it is time to push yourself.”

(more blurries= why not? a day at work w the iphone. my feet are the grown up ones.)

I had to enter my own emotional Zone of Proximal Development to accept and live out my powerlessness over others and over situations which I do not need to solve, as the universe will reveal and resolve in her own time. For years, I have learned of such concepts from books. I was surprised (mother effing shocked) to find that, in spite of my desperate immersion in literature, I had done a lot of spinning of my wheels; my capacity, without some help, had been tapped out like a trailer park keg of Miller High Life.

Now, I have different kinds of tools- just as the students in my classroom have tools to help them advance. I’ve been living it and immersing in it instead of simply learning about it in books. And, the frontier of my edge- it is advancing. I do not always have a sense of serenity, but I have a sense that something greater than me- an underlying rhythm, a pulse, an evolving and responsive universe- is in guiding this ride with compassion.

It has been terrifying and liberating so far to let go of the power I thought I had; but, the fear is something like a fear of the unknown or even withdrawal from a lifetime of holding on so tight. I know this, because I can sense the paradox: though sometimes afraid, I’ve never felt safer. Or braver. And more than anything: alive again, with the pleasures and pains and courageousness of a life out of hiding. Which, of course, makes me think of Kahlil Gibran's words:

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. -Kahlil Gibran

In other news: After something like six years, I’m moving my blog. Or, at least I have another blog I will probably consider more primary. I might merge the two eventually, and I might keep this one up. I dunno. I’ve realized I want to talk a lot more about scandalousy things that I’m not sure I should put on here- which means I tend to not update here these days. Good scandalous. Not bad scandalous. I just think I’d have a lot more fun if I didn’t feel the need to hold back. I’d be happy to tell ya where I am if you are a girlfriend or an online friend- others, just ask. But be warned: I’m more socially inappropriate than I may have let on.

fear + impermanence + infinity + trump card

When I am afraid, it means that I have lost my connection with the truth that I am a part of the infinite, of the unity consciousness of which everything is a part.

What is there to fear when endings are illusory?

I was reminded of this last night when I was meeting with some new Transcendental Meditation friends; I had put out the intention to know more local tm'ers, and of course, the universe ALWAYS responds. Clay is 32. Megan is 31. The fact that we were all in the same place at the same time, all having had the same desire to connect, is notable. We talked about our experiences and transformations since TM, the cycles, the wax and wane of spiritual awakeness- Even some metaphysical freakyness- something I rarely get to swap experiences on.

Later that night, I had a little opportunity to put into practice the beliefs of which I had been reminded. I was spending time with a friend and got my feelings hurt when they ditched for something better. I wanted to grasp at the friendship, for it to be to the other as I saw it. I wanted it to be as close as it had been (in my mind?), enough so that I would not have been the one ditched. Grasping.

Grasp the bubble on the stream because you want it to stay; see that it has disappeared. Grasp because you wish that things you love would not cease to be, or accept the impermanent state of reality. I tend to especially grasp onto circumstances under which I've allowed myself to feel vulnerable. Some of the relationships and situations on which I've grasped have remained, and some are like the bubble.

Impermanence. Herein lies a paradox. Everything is impermanent, like bubbles on a stream, popping in and out of existence; however, in it's more refined state, nothing is impermanent, and everything is infinite. Jobs. Friendships. Marriages. Dessert. All impermanent...in a sense.

I give my Trump Card to infinity- infinite unity and sameness. Everything will fall away, yes; however, in it's essence, nothing falls away at all.

Upon reflection, I realized it doesn't matter that I was not with my friend. My friend and I will always be together, a part of the same unity of which we are all manifested. If the friend drops away completely, if someone I love awakes from this life into another, if I am abandoned by someone I love deeply, if someone doesn't like me or cuts me off: these are the fears of my neurosis, what Eckhart Tolle would call "pain-body." These are the fears of my ego, and they are sometimes easily activated- especially lately, as my consciousness has been preparing to let go of some of these old "pain-body" fears. I swear in yoga the other night, I could sense my ego speaking: "No. No. No. No. No."

Liberation from fears can be a ticket into the present moment.

May I live in the present moment, knowing that any of my ego-fears do not need my attention and can be given to my higher power; in this case, knowing that at the same time, everything will be lost, and nothing important can be lost. May the spaciousness provided by this liberation provide me with presence to really live the moment with gratitude.

the universe is responsive + why I really went to Cuba

Surrender.

That much, I figured.

I had asked the universe for courage + liberation. Courage to surrender. Courage to really be alive, that is. Liberation from my walls. There are many kinds of living and of love; I was hoping, though I assumed far off, for love which floats in the the messy cytoplasm of vulnerability and ambiguity. Love that takes courage. To be a person who loves courageously, leaning more into intuition and less into the endless box-checking of the prefrontal lobe.

Go to Cuba, the universe whispered into my soul. Six weeks later, I stepped into the balmy Havana air; however, I did not connect this to my impulse for vulnerable, courageous loving. "I'm here to define my convictions," I said. I wanted to know how to be the best possible human to meet the needs in the world which made my heart feel heavy. "Go to the source to define your convictions," I said. "Stand face to face with other people's needs. Immerse. Only then will you know what you really believe regarding your convictions in the face of the world's suffering."

I remember being surprised by my tears in Cuba. One long walk along the Malecon, from my friends' home back to the pre-revolution art deco hotel, my tears were hot and angry. I had not been prepared for the thick, gray, heavy weight of oppression. I had not been prepared to face the gap between my own privilege and the poverty standing before me, most notably the poverty in freedom. I had the sensation of having eaten the forbidden fruit, a paradigm shift in my view of my place in the world.

Near the end of the trip, several of us sat around the hotel lobby, eating Cuba-brand snacks and drinking Cuba-brand drinks; we lounged on long, red velvet mid-century couches. Someone asked what brought me to Havana. "I came because I wanted to define my convictions, and-" I found myself stuck, only able to squeeze the rest of my sentence out through tears. "I still have no idea."

That night, I turned in early, exhausted and overwhelmed by my thoughts. Oppression. Poverty. My own divorce. A sense of the letters of my life being shaken hard like Boggle letters; who knows what new words it will spell and what old words will not manifest. I longed for a vice- internet, food, television shows- anything, to soften the raw, heavy discomfort. Even the book I knew would make me feel better, I had given away to a Cuban art dealer that afternoon. Finally, I realized that there was an Elizabeth Lesser podcast somehow saved on my phone. I ran a bath and listened as the universe gave me exactly what I had asked, in a much different way than I had anticipated.

Quoting Howard Thurman, she said, "Do not ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it; because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

In two sentences, my convictions had in fact been defined, right there on the phone that never had to come to Cuba in the first place. Sadness for the oppression of others had been overwhelming me; yet, I was oppressed because of my own stance toward the world. I had asked for liberation; I was liberated from this need to use my mind to decide how be the most "effective" and "helpful" human; instead, I could follow my intuition, my heart? I could FEEL my way to the answers? It is not the kind of response I had at all expected. Instead of reading more books about world economics, I could find what makes me come alive and trust that the rest would take care of itself? The thought of having permission to just be felt like was it's own form of liberation.

********

Soon after returning, I found myself in the most instant connection had experienced so far (I didn't know yet that I would soon be blessed with one lovely connection after another); at the time, I was floored by this. Who knows what's what, but I began to believe in things about chemistry, romance, etc., in which I had long filed into a folder titled something like "unrealistic," "irresponsible," or "teenagerish." This affirmed, it seemed, some of the reasons B and I had kindly agreed to separate from one another.

I have previously been super careful in love- in fact, most would probably say beyond too careful. This time, I thought about Thurman's words, "find what makes you come alive, and it was clear to me that walking this path made me come alive right then. I could feel this so clearly. Opened up. A bit afraid of losing it, or especially losing my newfound hope in this kind of connection.

*****

I had followed my bliss, my life's navigational tool.

Later, I'm overlooking the most kick ass sunset view of downtown Dallas, sharing drinks with a friend. And then, I learned something that felt heart breaking to me.

Details schmetails.  Paid tab. Phone rang. It was a woman associated with TM here in Dallas. "I hope you meditate tonight," she said.

I get it, Universe. Thank you. I went to my car and sank into the infinite of meditation. I cried, and I thought of something I had heard Chogyum Trungpa say about surrendering to sadness as a soft, brave act- The beginnings of being a warrior, he said. In my surrender, I was able to see both my pain and the greater purpose in it at the same time.

This whole thing- not the dating part so much as the crack in my fishbowl of life in general over the past two years- pushed me to a limit I haven't seen in at least a couple of decades, believe it or not- that limit that had caused me to close down in the first place as a little girl, frantically guessing at the emotional climate of the next moment.  But this time was different. Almost as soon as I found my edge, I decided to be brave, to lean into it. I felt like I was standing up for the little girl who couldn't do it anymore.

I think I have been approaching this edge for years, gaining the courage, gaining the strength to knock down the wall which had muted so many of my years. I just needed something to push me over the last tiny part of the edge, into the abyss.  The abyss isn't bad at all; in fact, there's a lot of hope in here. A lot of liberation. A lot of real.

I realized that for me to really have my wish from the universe- to be able to know I could love so courageously, I needed to feel deeply, so intimately, and then for my fears to manifest. On a human level, the emotions were messy, of course; yet, on a soul level, I could consider nothing but gratitude. I got to learn that I was still ok.  It's all gratitude at the end of the day anyways, right? It's interesting to think of what spiritual deals we might have with one another, rather than think of one as hurting another. Especially when we know there is no one and no another.

The duality of my feelings is notable. I almost feel like two people- one that has awakened a great, great deal more than the previous me, and who is capable of loving like I've never before been capable. The other self is the self who can feel pain with a new (recovered) intensity, too. She is the same self who used to be to so afraid to feel anymore that she had shut down to avoid the sorrows; but sorrows and joys have the same key to the same lock.

I can feel all of those years of repression spilling forth, and I am liberated, and I am lighter every day. Later that night, I went to yoga. I cried. Running. Cried. Elliptical. Cried. When I was a little kid, I remember thinking, "I wish I could cry so someone would know how sad I feel." These days, I see glimpses of myself opening back up- after something like two decades. It feels like a total rewiring, if that can be imagined; and, it all has something to do with the confidence of knowing that no matter what, I'll be ok.  Something to do with feeling my infinity.

Who knows who or what is next.  I feel like I can do anything. Then, there are moments where I feel precarious; yet, I remember knowing that I can do anything.  As for my mind- it is mostly fired for now. My mind would have ditched that whole experience a long time ago; in fact, it is B who talked me out of that a couple of times. He would say, "You said you wanted to be good at loving. Love is in the ambiguity." I want to follow what resonates with me, what feels right. How could I not? I see the fruits of it in my life, so shockingly clear.

I have learned that the new me cannot see far ahead, and that is because I am seeing things more as they really are. Impermanent, uneven, perfect reality. My job is not to use my mind to plan a detailed course of action for me life. I already tried that. My job is to follow my bliss, to decide what, in THIS moment, makes me come alive- and to do it.

To quote Lori: Thank you, Higher Power, for everything you bring my way.

namaste.

*In case you know B and I and this post is making you feel bad for him, I should mention he is dating as well. We are still best friends. We have dinner and talk about our dating adventures and our new lives outside of ourselves as a couple. We know it's weird. We don't care.

*Life Upside Down Disclaimer: Half of the shit I say these days, I say the opposite of soon after...Que sera, sera...I'm not claiming to currently recognize the difference between love, a rabbit hole and a bad idea. I have the confidence in my ability to be okay these days, though, and am concerning myself with the very next step and that is it. :)

can't sleep...

i heart the hipstamatic app; i just do.

God,

grant me

the serenity

to accept

the things

I cannot change,

the courage

to change

the things

I can,

and the

wisdom

to know

the difference...

Today, I am thankful for many things, including:

-A four day week!

-And a field trip to the Aquarium.

-A fun time at Hippie church (aka unitarianism); I'm helping with the kids' class. Most notably, there was this string trio- a (kickass) violinist, a guitar player, and this guy who rocked out the mandolin! They also performed the song Blackbird, which has special meaning to me right now, given where I am with things.

-Friends. Friends who talk me through my own dramas- I used to keep most of my dramas to myself, or maybe talk about it, but only once my mind was already made up. These days, it's more of a "come as you are" kind of vibe- much better. I'm coming with my discomforts and my sometimes self-induced drama. "This is just how it feels to be vulnerable," says friend Elizabeth, handing me a comfort Frappaccino. Other friends, who are patiently waiting for me to be ready to share more about what could look like my life crashing down around me, or like the opportunity of a lifetime- depending on where one is standing...Friends at Cafe Brazil for brunch. Friends with drinks. Friends with elotes. :)

-Internet Friends. Margaret and I seem to be going through divorce together, something I'm sure neither of us imagined so many years ago when we met on here, each mostly focused on fitness, each with our boyfriends. We have been blogging buddies for something like 7 years, I think, along with Mia and Lauren. It's amazing how you can meet real friends like this- I did not anticipate it. I mean, for real! Mia and I are talking about working on a teaching project together this year, long distance between here and the Bay Area where she lives. Also, I strongly suspect that Margaret and Lauren and I will all meet up this summer; this has been in discussion for a bit, now. Regarding divorce, I should add that divorce is more of a symptom in the case of B and I- a positive symptom, believe it or not- of a new kind of life in which feelings are really and regularly felt and chances are taken, etc., etc. So, I'm not "going through" divorce as much as I'm "going through" withdrawal from thinking I had everything figured out when I actually had lots of blank spots.

-Pema Chodron's audio book, "When Things Fall Apart." This would be great for people with addictions; she goes very deeply into the concept of just sitting with discomfort, loneliness- refraining from trying to make the discomfort go away. It is an uncomfortable practice, but incredibly strengthening. It really helps me sit with my fears, and I find that when I lean into my fears, really feel them, they pass through me and go away. I have more of a sense of being able to handle much more than I felt I could handle before.

-My camera is FINALLY fixed. It was sadly easy to fix.

-I remembered to take my trash can to the curb for tomorrow.

-I finally fell into a little...depression? for a bit...And, then out of it, thank God. Nothing like dispair. I would describe it as grayness, listlessness, and a heightened sense of anxiety. I started to just feel paralyzed- I had tried to hard to build a "problem-proof" life, only to find that the goal in itself meant I had some pretty serious problems! I fell into this place in which I wasn't sure what directions to move ON ANYTHING without making huge mistakes again, and I just didn't want to move at all. I realized, "I still don't know how to do this, necessarily." I guess the big lesson there was to stop trying to be perfect, and just be where I am. It's human. It's messy. I still like me- some people seem to like me more. Some don't love it so much. Now, instead of assuming that no one will stick around if I go through pain in the ass times or have needs, I'm just making the mistakes that reflect what it's like to start something new; and I get to really know who sticks around for that, instead of the subtle manipulations we can sometimes to do ensure we are "loved." I'm believing more in people. It feels good. Less lonely.

-Realizing that really helped me rededicate myself to extreme self-care. I'm usually pretty good about this anyways, juicing and exercising and such; but, I had fallen off a bit- and now, I'm back on for reals.

-So, I'm kind of "broken open," knowing nothing; but, I am usually feeling liberated by this.

-I had the best yoga session tonight. The energy in the room was amazing. A girl next to me brought her baby, probably about 6 or 8 months. She was crawling all over me during a couple of poses! It was beyond cute- I'm so glad it happened! Little kids can really remind us of the nature of the universe...meant to be silly, mostly worry-free, fun, laughing and falling down and making funny faces at people you don't know.

-This is kind of weird, but I've been going to a 12 step program: Alanon. Wow. This is a special kind of vulnerability, because you are in this room with people just like you, talking about shit you usually don't say- and it's not like a therapist that you pay. Something about the money really changes things, somehow- it saves you from the vulnerable parts a bit. In general, I've done my due diligence in life to be sure that I'm rarely vulnerable to anyone at all- to a truly shocking degree (which is why I'm rambling on about it now...). I can see clearly that this is a huge part of my current path- to find the point of vulnerability and to sit with it. Again. Again. To be loved. To love. To be let down. To see that I'm ok anyways.

-I'm working really hard at just having fun-- I got really serious at some point as a kid, and I stopped being child-like very, very early. This week, I've thought a lot about how it's time to go back and reclaim those years, and just relax and have a great time. Be silly. Be ok. Be spontaneous. Learn something new. I have some things coming up that are kind of fun/scary...

-Getting my house together more, bit by bit. I think I mentioned that B and I had never really unpacked-- if that couldn't have been a clue! I bought a desk last week for my office (to be), and I think I'll probably get around to assembling it this week. I'm grateful for this house- it fits me so well. I love it. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to live with someone again- who knows.