Bardot Blues
I'm not sure why it is named 'The Silly Season' as silliness is not what I have been experiencing at all. Gratitude, despair, loneliness, inspiration and a smidge of relaxation.
To recount- Christmas gorging with relatives, walking and talking with my preceptor Dharmamati, art gallery to see startlingly modernist photographic portraits by August Sander, clifftop catharisis with Dharmamati regarding ordination, viewing the Golden Compass (yeeuuck!), watching lots of Doctor Who and Life on Mars (yay!), flavoured coffees and lunches with friends, swimming in the National Park; all of which when typed looks like a jolly fulfilling life but isn't.
Yesterday it hit a crisis which threatened everything. The world seemed tangential from the moment I woke up; everything seemed as if someone else was going through the motions and I was trapped inside unable to be heard. I led a meditation at the SBC, had lunch and potentially angaging chat with Stephen and a friend but by this time I could feel the pressure building up: I wanted to run away.
Sitting with it did nothing and I couldn't contain myself. A long walk kept it under control enough for Stephen and I to reluctantly go to Centennial Park to sit and read in the Pine Forest. I sat. He read. During this time I let go of some anger and once more saw what was going on for me: I AM LONELY. Lonlely for that one mate, that friend, that ol' mucka that I can be silly with, let loose with and have a good time. I want to dance, be spontaneous and joyful. Life with Stephen is beautiful but, largely contained and polite. I am tired of being contained and polite.
Alas, I told him this...
He stormed off and I chased him to explain that, no I wasn't saying it was all over, but that I needed a friend in my life who I could do these things with without having to put all the pressure on him to be the person he isn't.
I don't think he fully realises how much time I spend alone on the many holidays I have. My overseas trip was to be with those dear friends I love with whom I have history apart from him. In Australia I have only one person that I see (infrequently) with whom I feel completely relaxed around
.
kateorman
Things settled down and after swimming and listening to camp anthems in the car today. I feel better but still the issue remains; how do I find this/these friend/s? You'd think the Buddhist centre would provide them but, as yet, I haven't made those sorts of friendships after nearly 10 years of practising there.
Well, a hot bath awaits to wash the salt off. nevertheless I feel in one of these intermediate states spoken of in the Tibetan Bookl of the Dead where the migrating entity passes through on their way to the next life.
To recount- Christmas gorging with relatives, walking and talking with my preceptor Dharmamati, art gallery to see startlingly modernist photographic portraits by August Sander, clifftop catharisis with Dharmamati regarding ordination, viewing the Golden Compass (yeeuuck!), watching lots of Doctor Who and Life on Mars (yay!), flavoured coffees and lunches with friends, swimming in the National Park; all of which when typed looks like a jolly fulfilling life but isn't.
Yesterday it hit a crisis which threatened everything. The world seemed tangential from the moment I woke up; everything seemed as if someone else was going through the motions and I was trapped inside unable to be heard. I led a meditation at the SBC, had lunch and potentially angaging chat with Stephen and a friend but by this time I could feel the pressure building up: I wanted to run away.
Sitting with it did nothing and I couldn't contain myself. A long walk kept it under control enough for Stephen and I to reluctantly go to Centennial Park to sit and read in the Pine Forest. I sat. He read. During this time I let go of some anger and once more saw what was going on for me: I AM LONELY. Lonlely for that one mate, that friend, that ol' mucka that I can be silly with, let loose with and have a good time. I want to dance, be spontaneous and joyful. Life with Stephen is beautiful but, largely contained and polite. I am tired of being contained and polite.
Alas, I told him this...
He stormed off and I chased him to explain that, no I wasn't saying it was all over, but that I needed a friend in my life who I could do these things with without having to put all the pressure on him to be the person he isn't.
I don't think he fully realises how much time I spend alone on the many holidays I have. My overseas trip was to be with those dear friends I love with whom I have history apart from him. In Australia I have only one person that I see (infrequently) with whom I feel completely relaxed around
.
kateorman
Things settled down and after swimming and listening to camp anthems in the car today. I feel better but still the issue remains; how do I find this/these friend/s? You'd think the Buddhist centre would provide them but, as yet, I haven't made those sorts of friendships after nearly 10 years of practising there.
Well, a hot bath awaits to wash the salt off. nevertheless I feel in one of these intermediate states spoken of in the Tibetan Bookl of the Dead where the migrating entity passes through on their way to the next life.