Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I'm Still Sick (cough cough)


I didn't sit in solitary misery for long.

Friends checked in with calls, text messages and Mystic took my woes asking for mom to heart. He decided to spend a couple of days putting soup and juice in me and listening to me cough. He wasn't exactly mom and he can't cook (his brother made the soup) but the effort was charming in its awkwardness. Mystic had injured himself playing soccer earlier in the week and so he had to limp around for me.

No, I don't think he's madly in love with me. We're friends. He has this interesting way of getting distracted talking to other girls when I'm around. I think he was compelled to take care of me the way others are compelled to take care of hurt kittens. He tells me of the great conversations he has with other girls that make his day. It's interesting.

I told Mystic that I found his efforts sweet and his friendship well-meaning and therefore "upgraded" him to the wall.. the wall of friendship fame where I frame my nearest and dearest... mainly family and friends that I've known for at least 5 to 10 years. Mystic has practically met every person on the wall in getting involved with my circles that I decided to bend the "no boys" rule (besides the mathematician) and put him there.

That will create some buzz in conversation at home. The mathematician is the only guy "publicly seen" on the wall. And now, I've included Mystic for willingly exposing himself to my germs, vacuuming my carpet, singing Muslim prayers while I cough, and feeding me between chats with his other internet girlfriends. His attentions are strange but his friendship is genuine. We actually became friends earlier this year because he knows the mathematician. Small world. Mystic shows himself to not be a mere visitor in JNETSWORLD. He is making himself part of my world... and therefore has made his place on THE WALL...

JNET

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

The Blind Will Find Love



I am surrounded by well meaning friends wanting to point me in some direction with respect to the mysterious subject of love. It is a happy experience in the space of family and friends and awkward and goofy beyond that.

But it is awkward for everyone... is it not?

It fascinates me and disinterests me at the same time; this aspiration towards a mystery that is turned profane in consumer and pop culture. I have too much comfort and fun in my solitude that I sometimes wonder if something is wrong with my wiring or perhaps I have yet to meet someone that inspires the kind of connection that can make me forget about myself.

Not that I am arrogant and self-centered. I just honestly can say that I've never been moved enough in my adult life (high school crushes-don't count) to be compelled to couple up.

"Are you an only child?" Is a common question I hear. Well, I was raised as the only girl in the family, in a neighborhood of mainly boys who were mostly my brothers' friends. My childhood was interesting...This weekend, A asked me if I roller skated when I was little.

"Of course. And I had a fancy pair of skates my dad bought me with red wheels and red striping. He would take me to the rink and I would skate by myself and wave to him when I passed."

And I would get lost in my thoughts while I skated. I suppose the same way I do when I go for a drive or a walk by myself... or when I play the piano... or when I write. I live in that space where it's only me and my head.

Everyone has that space and conversation going on. Where others might not realize that "voice" nor have a good relationship with it (themselves)... I have befriended mine and notice that when it starts acting up, it makes me laugh. Of all the choices in the world to make.. Why, that reaction JNET? Did someone push a button? Who's in charge?

I think the dating issue is so prevalent in my life right now because it's the best new thing and I'm seen still playing in my imaginary quiet world.

But it's not so quiet in there. I have some questions going on. I'm not cold nor lost in I-never-want-to-grow-up neverlands. I learn a lot in the different loves there are to experience.

Yes, I get that after I learn how to walk, then ride a bike, then drive a car, I need to learn how to fly. And I get that the ultimate lesson of life is to love.

I learn how to walk with love through my family; listening and understanding, I learn how to bike with love through my friends; exploring and being silly, I learn how to drive with love; being in community and sharing and I can fly and feel free with my friends and family.

But I haven't found that special someone to meet me in the clouds and take me to outerspace. I'll have beautiful friendships with people I WISH I could fall in love with. And without regrets, I'll still find myself happy to go home back to my private little world without them.

Perhaps romance is written for others and not for some.

Perhaps it is a matter of time. And so I will be happy for now because life is unfolding perfectly. Maybe finding love, is like playing Marco Polo with a bestfriend. I'll just practice listening and following the best I can.

JNET

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Love Is Friendship on Fire


I've heard this saying of friendship on fire. It has been said by many and Bruce Lee even has he own version.

“Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.”


I love it. Because when I think of my friendships, they are like fireworks that truly light up my life? It's beautiful.

I found myself in a bit of an attack last night from a round of girls that were not my friends. They were strangers... someone else's friends at a party last night.

"Well then you mustn't care about people if you don't care to call them.. If I don't hear from someone I'm dating within three days, I think it's wrong."

But it's not wrong if you don't hear from your family or friends for a while? Seems a bit needy to me and egotistic. I hate talking on the phone. My own mother knows that and she doesn't hold it against me. I talk to her the most and sometimes I get busy that she doesn't hear from me for several weeks."

"If you cared, you'd make the time. How do you ever date and have boyfriends?"

"I'm busy."

"You can't experience life by not dating."

"You don't necessarily experience life or love with dating. It is a frivoulous ritual. All these rules to call and be at one another's beck and call or else you are not loving each other."

And so the eyes rolled and the girls gave me a smug look to tell me that my naivete was a sign of stupidity to them and worthy of a good poke.

I had one very good friend standing in the side quietly listening. I wasn't exactly getting fed to vultures but there was a sense that these strangers didn't understand nor liked me. Someone had led them to have a conversation with me. They found the bits of information too intriguing to not take on.

"You mustn't care about people if you don't want to experience them."

"I do.. It's called FRIENDSHIP."

I told the girls that they had it backwards maybe.... this falling in love stuff.

So they hang out with someone HARD CORE for a couple of months maybe longer and call it a serious relationship. Breaking up becomes this drama that sometimes turns someone's life upside down and then they break off saying they never had much in common and that they can't be friends.

Were they really friends in the first place?

I may not have a history of "serious relationships" to credit many lessons on love to meet the standards of these girls.. But I have a history... NO...history means past and gone...

I have the loyalty of serious friendships which include family members. I don't have as many lost yesterdays to speak of because my relationships endure. The guys that I didn't choose as they might've preferred during college are still friends that remember my birthday and are somewhat up to date with my life. I experience respect and support from them. And I don't need to hear it every three days to believe it. As for lovey dovey romance, I think I'll have my season yet.

Thinking something is wrong... THAT is a choice. I can experience love in being present."

The girls didn't understand me in the end. They chose to excuse themselves for a cigarette. But my friend who quietly sat listening came forward after the crowd left and told me that she understood exactly how I felt.

That meant a lot to me.

Love is friendship on fire. Are your friendships ON FIRE???

JNET

Monday, September 4, 2006

Because I SAY what my future IS...




A psychic told me my future and it was the perfect BS to inspire me...

He didn't tell me anything earth-shattering that I didn't know and the things that he tried to excite me with fell flat after a couple of hours. I was intrigued by what I had heard of him. K, is psychic to the stars and has a habit of dropping names of his celebrity line-up.

I just had to spend a day with this little clique of the gold aura gang and their guru. Was I in the presence of a gifted person? Maybe a couple days to incubate the thoughts and I'll be a follower? I don't think so...

He had a faithful client of over 10 years who said that K. was his psychic and therapist. He was a sweet devotee but was consistently self-defacing. If he hadn't gotten onto a track to face the future with confidence as well as bored himself thoroughly with his shortcomings enough to drop them, is his "therapist" a good investment of 10 years and money?

I've had many mentors and teachers that have moved me profoundly and gave me a sense that I was present to power and clarity. They also gave me a sense of who they were as people and their commitment to me.

After today's session, I wondered if K's "therapeutic words" land much better on people who are starved for clarity and encouragement. Perhaps K. is a better match for these golden types than for me. I felt like I had gone to an overrated carnival that was very different from the rigorous conversations I would enjoy with my coaches.

Afterall, Dr. Cokkinias is a hard act to follow...

For the same price, I can have a private music lesson, state where I want to take my future and learn my shortcomings on a journey. Since the destination is mastery, I would be forced to take on my excuses and deal with it honestly with a coach that I respect who's committed to creating my future with me.

But maybe a psychic is a softer path. Bach is not for softies that need to be coddled.

The psychic did say that I was quite critical and was the type to size up a person and make a decision within 5 minutes and that I was most likely 90% correct. He also added "judgmental" in that conversation.

Did K. expose himself with a truth and try to put me aside with the taboo'd "judgemental" word?

What is it to be "noncritical?" Since people get squeamish about criticism due to non-contructive (destructive) criticizer, it's helpful to understand that the

definition of not being critical is...

CASUAL, CARELESS, UNDISCERNING, UNTHINKING...

To think carefully, discerning and on purpose seems like a good thing to me. And throwing in the word "judgemental" was an interesting emotional word. I felt a request to NOT THINK with him using that word... ACCEPT without having a discriminating thought.

I had a strange sense that I was grooming his ego and not the other way around.

He had some interesting gems but none that caught my fancy. He definitely has a "gift" but nothing I can flatter. Is he for real?

For a price, anything is real.


We are here to learn to love one another...I do not know what the others are here for - W. H. Auden

Friday, September 1, 2006

Sitting at Peace




I love silence and solitude and experience bliss in spaces where others frenetically stuff activity in.

I really do love people but I also adore silence and crave it like a lover. I am lost without it. It's a funny contradiction and perhaps seems extreme that I go from a parade of life straight for a santuary.

Sometimes I see conversation as over-rated and though I adore words; it's the thoughts that I really love... those things that meander in my brain while my words play the extrovert saying hello to the world.

But I can't wish that there existed a microphone in my head and my thoughts wouldn't have a voice if it wasn't for the vehicle of words. I can wish that words were like music, an intentional infliction of mood and opinion that come down with deliberate touches. That's how I want my words to be like... like music...

How powerful words can be....

How little power we give them...

How we sometimes abuse them saddens me, creating noise and not music unto the world.

But still, perhaps in the stolen stillness that we all find, we again can find our voice, our power, and make our words music again....

Perhaps...

On Being "HIgh Maintenance"




"Are you a high-maintenance girl?" I was asked today...

I wanted to laugh. How to answer such a question... Tell a 2 year old to make toast. Will the child be wrong for having difficulty? Ask a neighbor to take care of your docked boat for the summer. Is the boat high maintenance if he doesn't understand boats?

I suppose I am "high-maintenance" to the person who doesn't understand me but to my friends, I make absolute sense and it is a very happy connection.

High maintenance seems like a mean cop out when everyone really is sad and frustrated about missing the connection. And it's an easy way to leave and put someone down in the meantime.

I'm not high maintenance.

I'm like the ocean full of life and depth. I am happy in simply being the ocean that is me. I don't need the sun or moon to be an ocean and I don't make demands that the stars drop out of the sky for me.

You can't maintain an ocean.

You can travel the ocean, explore it and be yourself... and learn how to breathe, swim and play. Be kind and peaceful in your play.

We all know someone who adores the ocean... they say they belong there or were born "water babies."

That is love. It is not drowning and succumbing. It's more like trusting yourself to hold your head up and float in understanding.

I spent a couple of hours answering to questions about my quirks and thoughts on life and love. I don't know how many girls are being screened for this pilot show...

A reality romantic comedy... Interesting... I don't know if an ocean will work for their ratings. Maybe...

I can't be the only ocean. Everyone is an ocean too. Right?

Something to think about.