LADY CAMPIN'!
I feel like I'm practicing to become a pearl diver
for work this summer.
Taking deeper and deeper breaths,
filling not just my lungs,
but my BLOOD
and my BODY with air;
learning to stay under water
and dive down
resisting the pressure
and the panic
while working with my knife on the sea floor
bagging my haul
and hauling my bag
all the way back up
and up and up
before I can
break through and
breathe
again.
When I took the additional part-time responsibilities at work,
(last Fall)
I knew I wanted out before summer,
I was just Helping Out for awhile.
Now it is summer
and I am still "helping out"
and I am SO TIRED
after strings of 12 hour days
(and knowing there is more to come)
but there is something about
doing something
no one else
(apparently)
can do
that does lend me a bit of pride
as my tongue gets a bit twisted
and my lips go beestung numb
as I pour my words out
connecting people to ideas,
people to projects,
people to people.
I talk.
I talk and talk and talk and TALK.
I talk to everybody
about everything
and I only recently realized,
although I am talking CONSTANTLY for work
(and having rather fulfilling interactions...
since they're creative conversations in general)
I am not socializing much.
Like, ya know...
with my friends
opposed to endless strings of strangers
and acquaintances and colleagues.
I run into friends
but I do not get to talk to them much.
Ships passing in the night.
Neither of us get to say much
as we exclaim and hug and try to shorthand our current State of Be
sometimes over loud music
or under the pressure of a deadline
or behind the backs of small children with big ears
who want included
we try to be ourselves
with each other
like we used to.
But this past weekend was Lady Camp.
This is the 5th year running.
I've only been invited to the last 3.
There's 8 of us now,
and we rent a couple campsites halfway across the state
(as we come from both ends)
by some large body of water,
and spend 4 days MELTING.
Everyone just does whatever they want
and says,
"Anyone else wanna [X]?"
Walks and swims and hikes and naps
and reading and board games
and snacking/talking/laughing
the whole time
on an endless loop.
I could only come for two nights
(work!)
and when the time came
I didn't have the energy for the breathless fast-pack
which was my best option
in-between my skindives to the ocean floor of work
so I skipped my first night
so I could be languorous about
the packing and the long back country drive.
I keep promising myself I will eschew all the gear
and just come with
1 breezy dress,
1 swimsuit,
1 sweatsuit (night is cold),
and my Oh Shit box
(emergency supplies/tools)
and just...
Not Bother with the rest.
But in the end I am always scrambling
to Bring It All
because I want to be an asset to the campout.
When I arrived late
and then had to leave early
my good friend who organizes the trip said,
"Looks like you didn't make enough time for us, Wench!"
and it hit home
the way
a gutpunch
collapses everything IN
immediately right through to your juicy middles.
You ain't wrong, lady.
You ain't wrong.
If I was willing to
hurry and scurry
I could jam everything together.
I really could!
I could think of all of my best plans
as if everyone/everything would die from some disaster
if I didn't show up shining
and do my due diligence.
I HAVE to go camping
I HAVE to go on a trip
I HAVE to work
I HAVE to drop off a dinner to a friend
I HAVE to go to the concert
I HAVE to clean the house
I HAVE to make calls
I HAVE to meet someone for coffee
I HAVE to go babysit
I HAVE to make dinner
But, I'm just not willing to make that logical leap.
And I happen to know for a fact,
I'm CHOOSING to do all those things
and it's a privilege to do them
even if sometimes they are things
I sorta wish
I wasn't going to do.
The way I make it work for me
INSIDE MY BRAIN
is by doing it all
at my own pace.
If I am not allowed to be late,
I will show up
harried, worried, anxious,
and a bit befuddled
until I get into gear.
If I am allowed to be late,
I will show up
calm, relaxed, prepared,
and emotionally/mentally ready for whatever
is expected/necessary
until I must leave.
My friends know,
I'm almost always late,
but I'm also
almost always in a good mood,
and ready to facilitate a good time.
So, as I am practicing my deep breathing
for the stressful upcoming weeks
I am also preparing
to enjoy it
FULLY
even if I'm a little late to the gate.
However,
I've been thinking about my friends
and how much more time I want to spend with them
in a LEISURELY way.
I miss the long late nights in my teens and 20s...
shooting the shit with people I love
for hours on end.
Nowhere to go.
Nowhere to be.
Rather than a stolen hour here or there
snatched between a million colliding things
where bags are barely set down
before they must be picked up again
for the Next Something
most people seem to say they HAVE to do.
Yesterday I talked on the phone with my old Program Director
at the radio station.
He's getting eye surgery tomorrow
which he told me,
[he was able to easily afford]
because of the secret fundraiser
I organized for him in April.
I was arranging to drop him off
a couple meals while he heals
and he kept stammering out
kind words of appreciation and gratitude
and I just told him I really hope
he will be able to see clearly again.
Really I feel like *I'm*
the grateful one.
Here I am
moseying from busy day
to busy day
and trying to make the best
out of every tiring situation
and it feels so meaningful to know that
doing things with my whole heart
benefits other people,
not just me making myself feel good.
_______________________
Lately
I've been talking to Sailor a lot
about his dissatisfaction at work.
It's hard to know whether I am making him MORE dissatisfied,
or only uncovering
the depths of his already-functioning dissatisfaction.
I keep feeding him thoughts like...
"You are a caring, kind, capable, intelligent and responsible person
who is trained, skilled, hard-working, and loyal.
You can literally do WHATEVER you want.
Why do you keep doing so much work
you don't actually want to do?"
I sometimes forget
how the rest of the Western World
seems to trend toward
punishing themselves with Adulting.
And the very idea of Doing What You Love
ALL THE TIME
is not just some cartoonish pipe-dream
but an aggressive offensive condescension
that is ignoring and/or undermining their
Very Individual Myriads of Important Problems
I Will Never Understand.
They are sure that only RELENTLESS WORK and
NULLIFYING THEIR GUT FEELINGS
can possibly help them now
as they anxiously chew through
their own parachutes
in an effort save themselves
from the pain of HOPE.
Sailor is great at seeing silver linings.
But what I want for him
is to be bathed every day in the golden light
of his own GODDAMNED DREAMS, yo!
THAT'S what *I* want!
We've created other dreams along the way...
ones that require money
so we can save and buy and build our dreams
(eventually)
to make up for
all the dreams that aren't delivered to our heart's closed front door.
And I admit,
I sorta like those dreams... too.
They're a nice second-runner up
in a world that cannot guarantee happiness, health, or longevity.
But my heart bursts open to imagine,
how happy Sailor could be
if he stopped stumbling over the boxed up dreams
cluttering his mind's hallways.
Maybe even.... we'd be able to clear our ACTUAL hallways,
the ones in our ACTUAL home
where we pile our hopes and wishes
bought now
to be stored and kept in reserve
for some magical time
"later"
when we will have the time/energy/space
to do the things
we've always wanted to do.
for work this summer.
Taking deeper and deeper breaths,
filling not just my lungs,
but my BLOOD
and my BODY with air;
learning to stay under water
and dive down
resisting the pressure
and the panic
while working with my knife on the sea floor
bagging my haul
and hauling my bag
all the way back up
and up and up
before I can
break through and
breathe
again.
When I took the additional part-time responsibilities at work,
(last Fall)
I knew I wanted out before summer,
I was just Helping Out for awhile.
Now it is summer
and I am still "helping out"
and I am SO TIRED
after strings of 12 hour days
(and knowing there is more to come)
but there is something about
doing something
no one else
(apparently)
can do
that does lend me a bit of pride
as my tongue gets a bit twisted
and my lips go beestung numb
as I pour my words out
connecting people to ideas,
people to projects,
people to people.
I talk.
I talk and talk and talk and TALK.
I talk to everybody
about everything
and I only recently realized,
although I am talking CONSTANTLY for work
(and having rather fulfilling interactions...
since they're creative conversations in general)
I am not socializing much.
Like, ya know...
with my friends
opposed to endless strings of strangers
and acquaintances and colleagues.
I run into friends
but I do not get to talk to them much.
Ships passing in the night.
Neither of us get to say much
as we exclaim and hug and try to shorthand our current State of Be
sometimes over loud music
or under the pressure of a deadline
or behind the backs of small children with big ears
who want included
we try to be ourselves
with each other
like we used to.
But this past weekend was Lady Camp.
This is the 5th year running.
I've only been invited to the last 3.
There's 8 of us now,
and we rent a couple campsites halfway across the state
(as we come from both ends)
by some large body of water,
and spend 4 days MELTING.
Everyone just does whatever they want
and says,
"Anyone else wanna [X]?"
Walks and swims and hikes and naps
and reading and board games
and snacking/talking/laughing
the whole time
on an endless loop.
I could only come for two nights
(work!)
and when the time came
I didn't have the energy for the breathless fast-pack
which was my best option
in-between my skindives to the ocean floor of work
so I skipped my first night
so I could be languorous about
the packing and the long back country drive.
I keep promising myself I will eschew all the gear
and just come with
1 breezy dress,
1 swimsuit,
1 sweatsuit (night is cold),
and my Oh Shit box
(emergency supplies/tools)
and just...
Not Bother with the rest.
But in the end I am always scrambling
to Bring It All
because I want to be an asset to the campout.
When I arrived late
and then had to leave early
my good friend who organizes the trip said,
"Looks like you didn't make enough time for us, Wench!"
and it hit home
the way
a gutpunch
collapses everything IN
immediately right through to your juicy middles.
You ain't wrong, lady.
You ain't wrong.
If I was willing to
hurry and scurry
I could jam everything together.
I really could!
I could think of all of my best plans
as if everyone/everything would die from some disaster
if I didn't show up shining
and do my due diligence.
I HAVE to go camping
I HAVE to go on a trip
I HAVE to work
I HAVE to drop off a dinner to a friend
I HAVE to go to the concert
I HAVE to clean the house
I HAVE to make calls
I HAVE to meet someone for coffee
I HAVE to go babysit
I HAVE to make dinner
But, I'm just not willing to make that logical leap.
And I happen to know for a fact,
I'm CHOOSING to do all those things
and it's a privilege to do them
even if sometimes they are things
I sorta wish
I wasn't going to do.
The way I make it work for me
INSIDE MY BRAIN
is by doing it all
at my own pace.
If I am not allowed to be late,
I will show up
harried, worried, anxious,
and a bit befuddled
until I get into gear.
If I am allowed to be late,
I will show up
calm, relaxed, prepared,
and emotionally/mentally ready for whatever
is expected/necessary
until I must leave.
My friends know,
I'm almost always late,
but I'm also
almost always in a good mood,
and ready to facilitate a good time.
So, as I am practicing my deep breathing
for the stressful upcoming weeks
I am also preparing
to enjoy it
FULLY
even if I'm a little late to the gate.
However,
I've been thinking about my friends
and how much more time I want to spend with them
in a LEISURELY way.
I miss the long late nights in my teens and 20s...
shooting the shit with people I love
for hours on end.
Nowhere to go.
Nowhere to be.
Rather than a stolen hour here or there
snatched between a million colliding things
where bags are barely set down
before they must be picked up again
for the Next Something
most people seem to say they HAVE to do.
Yesterday I talked on the phone with my old Program Director
at the radio station.
He's getting eye surgery tomorrow
which he told me,
[he was able to easily afford]
because of the secret fundraiser
I organized for him in April.
I was arranging to drop him off
a couple meals while he heals
and he kept stammering out
kind words of appreciation and gratitude
and I just told him I really hope
he will be able to see clearly again.
Really I feel like *I'm*
the grateful one.
Here I am
moseying from busy day
to busy day
and trying to make the best
out of every tiring situation
and it feels so meaningful to know that
doing things with my whole heart
benefits other people,
not just me making myself feel good.
_______________________
Lately
I've been talking to Sailor a lot
about his dissatisfaction at work.
It's hard to know whether I am making him MORE dissatisfied,
or only uncovering
the depths of his already-functioning dissatisfaction.
I keep feeding him thoughts like...
"You are a caring, kind, capable, intelligent and responsible person
who is trained, skilled, hard-working, and loyal.
You can literally do WHATEVER you want.
Why do you keep doing so much work
you don't actually want to do?"
I sometimes forget
how the rest of the Western World
seems to trend toward
punishing themselves with Adulting.
And the very idea of Doing What You Love
ALL THE TIME
is not just some cartoonish pipe-dream
but an aggressive offensive condescension
that is ignoring and/or undermining their
Very Individual Myriads of Important Problems
I Will Never Understand.
They are sure that only RELENTLESS WORK and
NULLIFYING THEIR GUT FEELINGS
can possibly help them now
as they anxiously chew through
their own parachutes
in an effort save themselves
from the pain of HOPE.
Sailor is great at seeing silver linings.
But what I want for him
is to be bathed every day in the golden light
of his own GODDAMNED DREAMS, yo!
THAT'S what *I* want!
We've created other dreams along the way...
ones that require money
so we can save and buy and build our dreams
(eventually)
to make up for
all the dreams that aren't delivered to our heart's closed front door.
And I admit,
I sorta like those dreams... too.
They're a nice second-runner up
in a world that cannot guarantee happiness, health, or longevity.
But my heart bursts open to imagine,
how happy Sailor could be
if he stopped stumbling over the boxed up dreams
cluttering his mind's hallways.
Maybe even.... we'd be able to clear our ACTUAL hallways,
the ones in our ACTUAL home
where we pile our hopes and wishes
bought now
to be stored and kept in reserve
for some magical time
"later"
when we will have the time/energy/space
to do the things
we've always wanted to do.