Being positive


Maybe because it was was a week later, or just because some days are harder than others, yesterday was not a good day. It ended well, but the main part was filled with negativity, unfinished work, and a truly terrible mind.

I managed to watch it most of the time, rather than go with it, but even the watching was tiresome. I think it is a great place to be when one gets tired of oneself. Bored of the self obsession. It is at these points that the largest leaps in growth are made. Cartainly thai is my experience. And yesterday was no exception. A long day of getting truly tired of myself.

I lay in bed last night wonderfing if I was going to spend the rest of my life worrying about money, other people, and my body. I decided that perhaps, given that I had been going around these issues for most of my life and there had always been money, other people and my relation to them had always been up and down and my body is the way it is, I should really get bored of the endless cycles.

The body is an interesting one. The endless feeling that I should have a different one. That the one I have is not right or good enough. I hated it when I was 15, 18, 25, 31, and now, two children later, I would love to have it how it was at any point other than now. It is tragic to be in such a state of mind for all of one’s life. I would like acceptance to be a pill that one can swallow and all is fine, rather than a mountain that you never quite reach the top of because it is always swelling and moving in front of you.

Money is fun, too. There is always money, but I would always like a little more. We sat in the car last night, early for a dinner and discussed other people and their sucess. I had said I thought other people had some secret formula for sucess that I lacked. Baptiste asked me to name one person that I thought was sucessful. A fun game. Everyone has their stuff, their issues. That is why we are here. I know people with money, but would not say they were sucessful. What is sucess? Now I think it is being a good parent, learning life’s lessons, accepting everything, resisting nothing.

Other people. That is a battle at times. I have never felt that I belong anywhere. Always felt that I was just put here. Perhaps because of knowing nothing at all about my background or family history. I was not adopted, but my mother will never talk about her past. I know none of my uncles or aunts or cousins and my father left when I was 3. I am just here. No history apart from that which I make myself. Nothing to refer back to and no lineage to live up to. I have married a man with enough history and background for both of us, yet I still find it odd at times to be with others. And at this age it is hard to make new friends. Hard to establish a deep connection with people. Resistance is futile. Give up worrying about it.

Thank God I have reached a point in my life where Grumpy Old Men don’t scare me any more. That is a delightful place to be. I am thrilled by the realisation. That is a mountain that I have finally climed and find myself no longer needing to be liked, loved or approved of by GOM. It totally disempowers them and I feel a sense of total liberation. Aking to the moment when I decided that my stepfather was not longer MY stepfather. He was my mother’s husband. Oh, the releif. She was furious, it was so funny, that I had made him all hers. So abstract, yet so cleansing.

As I can see, it was not all bad yesterday. Just challenging. And this morning is too early. I woke up and wished I hadn’t. I wanted the night to be much longer.