don't forget yourself
I'm trying to be celibate in mind and body, trying to clear my head of thoughts and unwanted desires. I know I have them, but I'd like to clear house before I decide which ones I should keep for my sanity, versus letting them rage unchecked. I know what most of my relationship problems are-I overthink, I give too much with the expectation of being given too much in return, I'm petrified of being lonely, I want to be alone, etc.
Of course, I have to read something about this, and have picked up Zen and the Art of Falling in Love on the recommendation of a very sweet customer that comes in regularly who should have been a therapist. I really hate anything with the label of spirituality, as working at a bookstore makes you realize the dipshit assholes are the ones looking for inner peace making messy stacks in Buddhism. The surprising thing is, I actually enjoy this book. It's everything I expected, but not. The book encourages you to stand up and be on your own, and genuinely being interested in yourself, allowing other people to float in and out of your life while celebrating what stays, and cherishing what goes.
This was brought about by a very tall blond man that I met the other night. The entire time I just felt uneducated, silly, and stupid for no reason whatsoever. I wasn't well versed in all of the bands he was referencing (and also? I'm almost 24. How long will this charade go on?) because I spend my time reading books and being well versed in that. I didn't feel good enough to be in the presence of people I barely knew, and why?
I haven't dated anyone in ages, and any interaction goes underneath my microscope. I review, I look at it from different angles, I see what I could have done differently, but the one thing I never ask is what I would have wanted from it. The label? I feel like I naturally belong in a relationship, but I can't force it-nor can I hide from it like I usually do. Where is the middle ground? Oh dear, I'm going to quote a relationship how-to book:
"Let the person just be there, a whole world unto himself. And let yourself be there as well, with your whole world. Don't leave yourself behind when they appear. Don't leave them behind either."
I'm still mulling this over.
Of course, I have to read something about this, and have picked up Zen and the Art of Falling in Love on the recommendation of a very sweet customer that comes in regularly who should have been a therapist. I really hate anything with the label of spirituality, as working at a bookstore makes you realize the dipshit assholes are the ones looking for inner peace making messy stacks in Buddhism. The surprising thing is, I actually enjoy this book. It's everything I expected, but not. The book encourages you to stand up and be on your own, and genuinely being interested in yourself, allowing other people to float in and out of your life while celebrating what stays, and cherishing what goes.
This was brought about by a very tall blond man that I met the other night. The entire time I just felt uneducated, silly, and stupid for no reason whatsoever. I wasn't well versed in all of the bands he was referencing (and also? I'm almost 24. How long will this charade go on?) because I spend my time reading books and being well versed in that. I didn't feel good enough to be in the presence of people I barely knew, and why?
I haven't dated anyone in ages, and any interaction goes underneath my microscope. I review, I look at it from different angles, I see what I could have done differently, but the one thing I never ask is what I would have wanted from it. The label? I feel like I naturally belong in a relationship, but I can't force it-nor can I hide from it like I usually do. Where is the middle ground? Oh dear, I'm going to quote a relationship how-to book:
"Let the person just be there, a whole world unto himself. And let yourself be there as well, with your whole world. Don't leave yourself behind when they appear. Don't leave them behind either."
I'm still mulling this over.