June's Project

I’ve enrolled in a beginning novel writing course.  It’s every Sunday in June.  Now I'm wondering if a person can write a novel in one month.  I have so much that may not be used at all.  This is an idea that doesn’t sit comfortably, but I’ve accepted that it is a very real possibility.

Bite me, self conscious thoughts!

Last night I spent several fun hours hanging out with a small group of friends from junior high. Twenty eight years we've known each other, and I actually considered skipping out because I felt self conscious about being overweight.

A few nights ago, after meditating, I decided to just get over it and accept myself the way I am right now. I may not feel attractive at this weight or at this fitness level, but I'm still me. Anyone who loves me won't stop simply because I'm overweight and any "friends" I lost during my fitness hiatus weren't real friends anyway. These people in particular have known me so many years that they won't care about anything so shallow. They just want me to show up.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprising after all, I've been steadily picking my healthy habits back up since that night without any feelings of obligation or dread. I dare say it has even been fun! I tell you, what they say is completely true; the kindest and most satisfying embrace is the one you give yourself.

hard work

Sometimes the most difficult thing to do is put your own problems aside long enough to support a friend.

Shattered Pieces in my Wake

The Puppetmaster and I walked along the embarcadero after brunch on Sunday. We passed the yacht club at China Basin, and a memory of being a theater usher came flooding back.

It was late one night after a Rent show. There was a cast and crew party at the yacht club, and there were a handful of ushers in attendance. I sat out on the deck in a dark corner with a few of the sarcastic girls smoking and cracking inappropriate jokes about the guys performing their favorite selections inside. They were each very talented, most of them so much that it overshadowed their larger than life egos. I had watched them in their glory so frequently that it was no longer a novelty.

A stranger walked in during one of the performances and bellied up to the bar. He was dressed in the dark layers common to the area like a fisherman or longshoreman. His pace was slow and purposeful, but his height allowed him to cross from the entrance to the bar with a few steps. The deck was silent as we looked on in awe.

He was beautiful. The ends of thick dreadlocks dangled beneath the wrap around his head, brushing his back just above his waist. His face was smooth olive with a thin goatee.  His eyes glowed golden green. The silence on the deck was broken with a whisper from one of the girls behind me, "Now, that's a man." The rest of us sighed and groaned in agreement. The top of my head tingled.

The tension in the yacht club was palpable. It became painfully clear that the stranger had encroached on a private function. He didn't stay long, but I don't recall anything that happened after his departure that night. I felt as though I'd seen a ghost, there for a fleeting moment and then gone forever. At least that's what I assumed at the time.

the ego's familiar face

I’m probably a typical underachiever.  I don’t take risks because I don’t feel like I’m good enough at anything to really excel at it.  I don’t compete at anything because I’m always afraid that others will beat me.  Not only will they prove themselves better than me, but they will rub my face in their victory.  That’s crazy!  My brain goes in a crazy direction there.

As a young person I never felt like anything I did was good enough.  When something turned out well, I felt compelled to come up with something better.  Perfection was the only scale for measurement.  If it wasn’t perfect it wasn’t right.  Mom taught me that.  I could never please her.  I tried.  Oh, how I tried!  She focused on every imperfection she could find.  To this day I cannot wear shorts because my hyper pigmented hair follicles, which she referred to as “polka dots” looked terrible in her opinion and should always be covered.  I’m not exactly sure why that particular memory came up, but it seems unnecessarily cruel to me now.  Why would a person tell their kid that?  Confidence is something that takes people far in life.  It’s one thing to teach your kids that disappointments happen (and then give them the tools to recover from it); it’s another thing entirely to take away their confidence and make them believe that success is unattainable for “someone like them”.  She probably just didn’t know what she was doing at the time, but it still makes me sad.  I feel sad not just for the child Hester whose dreams of the wide, enchanting world were shattered, but also for my mom who was so hardened and broken that she couldn’t even allow the people around her to believe in kindness, faith and miracles.

I am now at a crossroads that will likely be a recurring one for me – growing out of my irrational fears.  An important part of this process is looking at the beliefs I have about self-worth, remembering where they came from, reliving the emotions associated with the formation of those beliefs and rising above them.  It’s challenging to say the least.  The ego wants to cover up, cry, guilt, attack – anything to make the probing stop, but my logical mind knows that this is all necessary.  I lie awake at night while they fight sometimes. I don’t remember my dreams when I wake up afraid, angry and upset in the middle of the night.  It takes hours to shake it off.

This morning, for the first time in several weeks, I felt light.  I felt a peaceful acceptance of the things that are going on in my life.  I slept well last night.  I only wanted one cup of coffee, which I drank after the rainy and crowded commute.  I’m not exactly sure what changed, but it felt great.  I meditated in the dark before dawn and the minutes flew by.  Whatever this is, I hope I am able to sustain it.  I’ll need it to deal with the emotional gunk that I need to pull out.

turn the beat around

My character, success and happiness do not depend on other people’s opinion of me.  I cannot control how others interpret my behavior nor am I responsible for their thoughts about what I say or do.  I have no expectations of other people.  I do not concern myself with what they think about me or anything else.  Furthermore, there is no way for me to know!  I bring my best to what I do and it is enough.

These are the words I’ve decided to live by today.   I’m tired, irritable and especially sensitive, so it makes perfect sense for me to return here.

 Over the past year I’ve constantly fought my natural inclinations.  I dream about running and yoga all the time but haven’t done as much as a set of simple stretches in several months and haven’t laced up my running shoes in over a year. 

There are a few positives.  I’ve stopped compulsive gambling.  The shopping has slowed, but hasn’t quite stopped yet.  I don’t feel high from it anymore, though, so it’s just a matter of time.  The biggest change is the reduction of my sexual desires to little more than an occasional passing thought upon resting my eyes on a nice-looking man for a moment.  I’ve even stopped dreaming about it.  It scares me a bit, but I am facing it just as I do the walk from the bus stop to the house at night.  The fear of what comes next is just one of those things I have come to accept as unavoidable.  Besides, just because I’m afraid of it doesn’t mean it’s something bad.  I’m afraid of many things; most of them would make me very happy.

I often hear words out my own mouth that come from a peaceful abiding place that is achieved only by mental, physical and emotional balance, but I do not feel balanced.  I do not behave as a balanced person does.  I do not often think what I speak.  In my mind doubts and fears are prevalent.  I have intense highs and lows to my moods that I do not express.  I have withdrawn.

 

This morning I finished “Finding Ultra”.  The story itself was a thoughtful recount of the life-changing decision Rich Roll made that led him to become completely transformed inside and out.  I didn’t find his physical and spiritual development particularly inspiring necessarily, but I was particularly interested in the appendices.  Rich Roll, just like Scott Jurek, is a vegan world class athlete.  He went through in detail his experiences with highly nutritious, animal-free superfoods and research he had found about microbes, intestinal flora and what all these things have to do with eating habits and cravings.  At one point I touched my palm to my gut and thought, “This is what’s happening inside me.  The flora in my intestines feed on the unhealthy, oil and sugar-laden, meat and dairy-rich foods I’ve been consuming.  I need to get them out of there.  I need to detox.”  I ate the banana pancakes in the employee café for breakfast, mostly out of convenience.  For lunch I walked to Berkeley Bowl and purchased four items: a cauliflower and walnut bean salad, a quinoa and edamame salad and two bottles of chia seed kombucha.  I’m on my second fill of the 96-ounce Klean Kanteen I keep at my desk.  This is the solution or at least the beginning of it.  I am absolutely convinced.  It is going to be a difficult transition, and likely some bumps along the way, but I have to get back to my happy, healthy, energetic self.

In support of the detox, I’ve also decided to reread “A New Earth” and “Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul.”  This is the way I will recover, with the physical.  It is the only thing I can grasp right now, and I am desperate for control.

mindfuck central

Over the past month or so I’ve had some irritating money issues.  I double-paid my DMV registration when the check took too long to post.  The deadline was looming, so I went into the DMV office and paid the fee by debit card.  The rep at the counter assured me that the DMV would not cash my check if I didn’t owe them anything.  She was wrong.  Not only have I paid the registration a second time, when the DMV cashed the check the money wasn’t available in that account so I incurred a NSF fee of $30.  So I have double-paid my $274 registration plus a $30 fee.  To top it off, I now have to file an application for refund using their form.  Who knows how long that will take?

I took my car in for a smog check, which it failed.  The mechanic gave me an estimate for the work that needed to be done before running the smog again.  He said it would be at least $2500 – he stressed AT LEAST because there was still no guarantee that it would pass smog after the service was done.  I can’t get new license plate tags until the car has passed smog.  I’ve had the car parked in the driveway since my registration expired.  It will remain there until I can afford to get it serviced and roll the dice again.  Catching the bus has been okay without Lucky (he stays home with Mom most days since she is still in town), but I’ve tacked on an hour in both directions.  This two hour addition has come immediately from my self-care rituals.  I haven’t stretched, flossed, put together an outfit, done my makeup, eyebrows, pedicure, manicure or anything of the sort since putting the car away.  I rarely even bother to comb my hair.  I get up in the dark and return home in the dark every workday.  On weekends I take Mom out to run errands (in her car), do chores, clean up after four grown ass people, bathe the dog and basically just get ready to do it all over again the following week. 

Weekend before last, when I checked into the hotel where we had our team training retreat in San Diego, I used my debit card for incidentals because our rooms and parking were all being covered by a master bill account.  The hotel held $570 from my checking account.  That wasn’t supposed to happen – mistake on their end. 

Last weekend I stayed at the LAX Renaissance.  I prepaid that stay with Marriott points, so I also used my debit card for incidentals ($50 is typically held for this purpose).  I checked out of the hotel on 3/23.  On 3/24 they placed a hold for $334 on my account (I’m assuming that is the cost of two nights although I really have no idea why that would even be relevant since it was prepaid).  I called Renaissance to find out what the hell was going on since the hold was put on my account the day after I checked out.  The woman told me that she couldn’t help me since the accounting department was closed, but she could see that it was a mistake and my card had actually been run twice (and both times for the wrong amount since the reservation was prepaid).

All of this was a mystery to me until the evening of 3/24 after I got back home and went online to pay my car insurance.  My card was declined.  When I looked up my account info I was shocked, then angry, then upset.  The hotel where I stayed for work was eager to fix their mistake quickly, but the Renaissance rep told me to just wait until the following day and it should fall off on its own.  That wasn’t so.  Yesterday, ON MY BIRTHDAY MIND YOU, everything absolutely fell apart and my account went into the red with multiple overdraft fees and holds and just plain frustrating craziness.  Although I didn’t have any birthday plans, I couldn’t have gone anywhere if I wanted to.  My money is all tied up.  It’s a huge mess, and I can’t do a damn thing about it!  I have made requests for review by accounting representatives, jumped through hoops and yadda yadda yadda.  All I can do now is wait.  Last night I woke up so angry because I’d been dreaming of it.  I lie awake in my bed for almost three hours afterwards, begging the universe to resolve the situation and help me to be at peace.  I do feel a bit better today, but still far from my usual self - I'm fighting to keep my optimism at this point.  The most disappointing thing is that I don’t really desire or ask for much.  I am polite when I bring a mistake to someone’s attention.  I wait patiently on hold when they scramble to figure out what went wrong.  I empathize and never raised my voice.  Still, here I am  - screwed and powerless.  It’s bullshit.