More or Less

More

This is my desk, or was my desk this morning. Today it became a scary  place to dwell. In the past I had become quite accustomed to being in this mass clutter and managed to find what I needed with minimal distress. There were moments when I had to commit to digging about, but they were preferred to figuring out a filing system and then remembering what it was. So, I just kept everything in easy to see piles. But this morning I sat down with my cup of coffee - visible near the mouse - and there was a pile slide. A worse disaster would have been all those papers on the floor. Thus began the clearing.

The hardest part was the mass of recycled paper I keep. Well, recycled everything. As I have such a bounty, I decided to actually recycle the scraps I have saved. I have lots of nice note books and pads, along with journals and sticky notes. I use pen and paper for notes, ideas, quotes, thoughts, and "figuring." Also, with my recent phone crash I lost all my data - meaning, ideas, thoughts, story lines, numbers, passwords, etc - that were stored in what seemed to be a wonderful app. November is National Novel Writing Month and I am committed to 50,000 words in 30 days. My ideas lost, I must think again. This time on paper.

While clearing all that stuff was intense, it was quite fun as well. I found photos tossed in the piles and left there for the last few years. I enjoyed rereading birthday and holiday cards, saved quotes (before app and smartphones), and photos sent from friends. Most of my photos are digital; holding prints becomes nostalgic giving a sense of depth to the memories.

In the process, I gathered a bundle of pencils and pens I will leave at work, color pencils, markers and crayons for my grand-daughter, and a collection I will reserve for myself (and actually store in the drawer). There's still quite a bit to wade through, but keeping the desk clear will be my new priority. Perhaps with all this open space more ideas will begin to flow.

Less. Way Less.

Toward Being Far More Interesting

Happier, Healthier, and Far More Interesting!

I decided not to wait until I am free from my current employment/financial obligations to get on with the life I long to live. I have great plans and now is the time to both prepare for the next step as well and practice living to the fullest. 

Here are a few of the shifts I have made so far: 

Pilates Classes

I’ve been going to my Pilates Reformer classes weekly for the past two months. It continues to be a great check in on my posture and form. However, this is a rather pricey option, so I decided to buy the Pilates Power Gym.  It allows me to continue my workouts at home with the information I learn each week. There are excellent infomercials that explain use and technique, so that even when I return to the studio I have a bit more understanding with which to approach movements. I enjoy the feedback of the instructor and being in the class setting. 

On a more personal note, I have revised my profile for Online Dating. Most of the interactions have been interesting, even if not really my cup of tea. I had the meet up previously discussed, another connection with whom I was talking on the phone for a bit and still another that I write or chat with on line. While not quite matches, they have made exploring the territory interesting.  This profile is almost four years old and only recently have I received any bites…

Here, where I live, I signed up as a Language Partner through the University Women’s Center. This program matches native English speakers with women new to the country and language. We have met twice. Kim is sweet and personable. We had a long delightful chat about who we are and our families. As much as she wants to meet to learn to speak and understand English better, I can imagine that life will be considerably easier for her as she learns the organization of the city. Her biggest complaint was that in this country we are always busy. There is so much driving everywhere; and she is required to cook, always – three meals a day. There are no places to find her native foods prepared to eat out or carry home. Sadly, as representative of the world as this city is, there are few shops that offer the “materials” necessary for them to replicate home. This is a style of forced homogenization. 

Leaving our meeting, I ran through the grocery store for a gift (black raspberry liqueur), almond butter, and flax seeds. What I found, in addition, was Celestial Seasoning Teas at 75% off. Great day in the morning! I now have a fabulous stock, plus lots to share. Could the day get any better?

I signed up for my six week Gym Membership. I had bought a special deal though one of those group coupons for my daughter, Z, who is visiting. She is excited about Body Pump to the tune of several classes a week. For the price they offered, it is worth the money even if she merely makes it to three classes, of any kind. I started my schedule with the sculpt class. It was actually quite nice. I forgot the nice thing about going to classes in the morning is that most of the people in class are older, retired, or stay at home partners. There is no pressure to perform, compete or judge. The instructor was upbeat and talkative, working out at the same time. And while I remember all the moves, I have been away for a very long time. I left class remembering how very much I used to love working out and feeling the thrill of the return.

Z and I attend the power yoga class on Wednesday afternoon and while I will not recommend it to anyone under any circumstances, I will return next week. The music was loud and fast. The room was dark. And the instructor zoomed through her vinyasa flow at sprint speed. Besides the fact that we could not see her or ourselves, we could not hear her most of the time and when we did, had no idea what she was talking about. She failed to call, cue correctly or identify the pose until after she reached and moved away from it. The starting point for her vinyasa slow was downward facing dog. She told us that before we started. She cues it as, “And up!” Lots of pushups and lounges with pulses. Thankfully, I learned power yoga from the originator – Bryan Kest . “All you need to do is breath, move, and sweat.” With that bit of knowledge and understanding, I accepted what I was available from her offering and remembered to be my own yogi. (Another thanks to Bryan.)

I am approaching the last three weeks and have committed to living each days more fully that the previous. There is no waiting for things to come together, fall in place, or be just so. Some day is now and we are called to be here. 

My life overflows with love, joy and happiness. The rest can fall to the wayside.

Surprise!

Not what I expected - Surprise!

Some people really like surprises. Me, I can do without. I’ve watched others dance with glee at the thought of a pending surprise. Me, I have a bad feeling about it all. Others live with a heightened sense of anticipation. Me, all I feel is dread. And when the moment arrives they are wet with excitement. I am just hoping I don’t really end up pissed off. For you see, while, “Surprise!” has fond and happy memories of others, for me it has meant that I was expected to accept and enjoy some situation, circumstance, event or thing which was not my desire, interest, or in my mind even a possible consideration.

“We have a surprise for you. You’re going to have a brother or sister.” I’m the eldest, so this one just kept happening all the way into my college years. This particular surprise shaped how my world looked to me, especially around getting my needs and desires met. It’s the surprise that replicates itself daily – forced sharing, endurance, and responsibility.

“Good morning. We have a surprise pop quiz, test, or other method to put you on the spot around facts, ideas, or thoughts I know better than you.” How much does this suck? The only way through is to have been studied up, be quite knowledgeable about the matter, or maintain a sense of apathy. Otherwise, there are usually groans, pouts and angst.

Surprise?!

“Please come to the office. Please see HR. Please gather your things.” Please becomes a scary word sometimes. I went to the office to find that the agency I worked for had lost the contract for services and could not maintain the current staffing level. That day was my last there. Surprise! I went to HR to find that I my contract was coming to an end two months early. I was sick. Surprise! And being told to gather your belonging, no matter how nicely, is rarely a good move, as in “You’re moving to a bigger office – Surprise!” Nope, that’s not what happened. Everything seemed to be going so well. Can’t we work this out differently?

“It’s not you, it’s me.” Well, no surprise there. The only surprise is that we lasted long enough for you to make that declaration.

Dating surprises have turned out especially poor – gifts or questionable thought, lies, misrepresentation, and half-truths, inconsistency in presentation and reality, and loads of cow poo. 

“Here, I found this on the side of the road. You like to collect stuff. I thought you could use it.” That’s my basic feeling for all items bought for me without due thought or consideration of who I am or how I live. The worst part is when I gear up and buy into the surprise aspect. 

I like to limit some surprises. I like to think through what might get in the way. Asking your date, partner, POA (person of affection) specific questions generally indicates that you want a specific answer. I’m asking now so I don’t have to be surprised later. Some things are just that important – gender, gender preference, relationship status, etc. If there is something to hide, reply with either I prefer not to share or none of your business, so I can move on. I am past the excitement of the supposed ex banging on my door, shouting to the world that I let her lover, partner, POA out. This web of deceit was wound by another. They are free to leave, as in, “Get out!”

So how am I going to stand waiting for my first meet up (now to be called a seriously vision impaired date) and watch the person approach with no idea as to their gender. “Surprise!” Not f*&$%^ fair! Just not. 

I planned my day – my time, energy and resources – around this experience. I shifted to make space. The big deal is that I put myself out there. And yes, I have a few expectations. I expect that my preferences be honored. I said what I was looking for and interested in. If that is not who you are, please do not think I will adjust after meeting you. Come on, even if a person could pass for quite a while and we found we were deeply interested in following a progressive course, at what point do the facts become clear (as in spoken). Where is the trust in a relationship with that depth of deceit?

This issue is not about being friends or having someone to share time with.  I expect my friends to be direct and honest with me. The word, “Surprise!” is not supposed to freak me out. Recognizing that we are each in our own space and time working out what works for us, it would still be nice if we considered the effects our work might have on others. 

There are great discussions on when people self-disclose intimate details of who they are. I have a great many transgender people in my life. I understand their struggle with meeting others and establishing relationships. But this is my side of the story.

What I want most is better sorting on dating sites – one that offers several gender identity and preference choices. We can still all contact one another, but we know from the beginning where we stand. Of course, people can still be deceptive, but if we choose to meet that’s a bit of information that carries forward. If I am meeting a liar, I can expect them to lie.

“Lets all indulge in a little truth in advertising. It begins with being honest about our purpose, and telling the truth, or at least not lying, about the important facts. Lets be proud of our age, tout our assets, and talk about what we want in a relationship. Using the right words to convey those things in a softer manner is fine and acceptable. But, valuing ourselves first and foremost means were bringing that honesty to a relationship.”

I am reminded of a time when I belonged to a community that asked its members to identify so that we might remain women born women. It became divisive and more exclusive than before. And while I could see the irrational nature of fear creeping into the process, I understood the essence of the need to maintain defined space. 

I believe I get to have my requests honored, even if the answer is, “No.” There is no use in pretending you can be what I desire when that is not who you really are. We are both cheated in the process. I have yet to find surprises that are sweet for that exact reason. The compulsion to fit into another’s ideas and standard at personal sacrifice is demeaning, deceitful, hurtful, inappropriate, and not at all useful. 

We are called to show up as our own wonderful selves. That job is challenge enough without trying to be someone else.

100 days - And Speaking of Default

I have a plan, always have had. The problem is, as the time draws nearer continuing the process feels worse; and some days I want the decision to be made for me. Well, not the decision to leave but the specifics of when. I have envisioned a couple of scenarios that I think would serve me - especially the vaccination mandate.

Now after all my to-do about showing up and saying what I mean and doing what I say I'm going to do, here I am waiting for the would-be ax to fall. Then low and behold I get to work and read  they have extended the deadline until December 2nd (from October 17th). There has been massive dissent and I imagine if a significant number of employees refusing or even delaying their flu shots could shut down the facility. So, they changed the time frame, maintaining the threat of suspension.

Employees are outraged. This,  over the flu vaccine. How is it we cannot organize around better working conditions and wages? We could collapse the class society, end inequities. That means a whole lot of people would have to be willing to feel uncomfortable and we are not a society interested in stepping outside of our zones of perceived comfort and security. We like our peek into the world of the disenfranchised isolated between the months of November and December. Even then we are not willing to take an introspective look at the waste and consumerism that plagues all of us, so that we are unable to save ourselves and only throw pittances at “the others.”

So here, I am called to step up, which means I get to print and submit my letter of resignation. I can’t wait around for them to fire me (for refusing the flu vaccine). And while I would like to act a donkey and give a serious accounting of my experience over the last three point four years, I am not that invested. I want a clean break and the freedom to move on. That means owning my decision and living my choice.

The countdown’s getting closer every day. Thank goodness!