Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Good, the Blad, and the Drugly

Thought I'd add a touch of holiday cheer
Yes, you read that post title correctly. I'm sitting at home with a bladder infection, popping over the counter remedies and drinking a magical health potion of lemon juice, stevia, tea tree oil, anise oil, orange, lemon, and grapefruit oils plus two drops of oregano oil. I also have a heating pad in my lap to assist with pain management. Have I mentioned how much I'd rather be going out tonight with my poet friend Clara to see two other friends, Don and Jeanne, feature at Sacred Grounds? Well, I would.

Yesterday was a little too much for me. I arrived at the Alameda post office on Shore Line Drive at 11 am on the dot to submit my passport application and have photos taken. The clerk behind the counter informed me that she "didn't touch the camera," so "no pictures on Tuesday." This when I had called ahead the previous Friday and the man who answered the phone said he would "make a note" that I also needed photos. Luckily there was a Big Name Drug Store nearby where I could have passport pics taken (for a few dollars less than at the USPS, I might add). Long story shorter, what might have taken 20 minutes ended up taking over an hour. Arrrgh!

After that I spent about four hours with my friend Cathy, receiving an amazing hypno-massage session and helping her with her book about her dad in trade.

I left at 4:30 and drove to the Lakeview branch of the Oakland Library, where I teach a free two-hour writing workshop one day each month (usually the fourth Tuesday). I'm including the first five months of dates at the end of this post, in case you're interested in writing with me, along with the times and address.

Did some shopping at Trader Joe's, which was in the neighborhood, then parked and skated into the library about a second after the bells in the church tower stopped ringing  6 pm (which is when the class begins).

After that I had a date with my other beloved. Yes, I am revealing it in this blog for the first time: I am polyamorous, which means (in my case) that I am happily married and also have a lover. My husband and sweetheart are each aware the other exists, and while they have yet to meet, each knows a fair amount about the other. My lover and I had a delightful time together, after which I arrived home around midnight.

All this activity proved too much for my poor bladder, which began painfully protesting somewhere around the middle of the day yesterday. I decided that taking the day off -- and perhaps tomorrow as well -- was the best course of action. As one of my teachers, Francesca, is fond of saying: "Even rest can be an action."

So, the Good: Both my divinely dishy sweethearts, who lovingly support me; my wonderful friends, who also lovingly support me; rest, relaxation, excellent self care and India Spice tea with coconut milk -- YUM! The Blad: my poor, sore, ouchy bladder who is protesting my uber-stressful schedule, along with the challenges always present for me during this season of ostensible joy and good cheer; and the Drugly: ibuprofen from the dollar store, over-the-counter pills from the "Feminine Care" aisle at the local drug store; my delicious potion, chock full of natural anti-virals and anti-bacterials. Oh, and loving support from myself  to myself, producing endorphins: the very best drugs of all!

Take super extra excellent care of yourselves this -- and every -- holiday season, as well as during every other season of the year.

Your comments are encouraged -- and welcome!

~Love and Blessings,
Selene~

P.S. -- The Lakeview library is located at 550 El Embarcadero (between Grand and Lakeshore Avenues) near Lake Merritt in Oakland, and the writing group meets from 6 pm to 8 pm. Here are the dates through May 2013 (all Tuesdays):

January 29
February 26
March 26
April 23
May 14


Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Resting in Myself

I often feel that my life is composed of epiphanies strung together at times with soft threads of wool, at other times with sensual lines of silk, and too often with very thin, sharp bands of steel that cut into me regardless of which way I turn. I have been engaged for several months now in the process of removing the steel bands, because they hurt others as well as me and keep me from fully opening my heart.

Mysterious life delivered a message to me today, through another amazing soul in my Biodanza class with Zora. During our pre-class sharing circle, she described an experience that allowed her to "rest in herself." Those three seemingly simple words opened up a deep longing in me. Can I really do that? asked a very young part of me. Can I really rest in myself?

How do I explain this longing to those of you who do not live outside yourselves? I'm certain there are at least a few of you out there. Ever since I was very small, I've been trained to live outside myself; whatever is going on emotionally with other people is my job to monitor. I do it quite automatically, rarely resting in myself. As I write this, I feel it's no wonder I have trouble sleeping. I often stay up until dawn, reveling in the silence of psychic airwaves. Nearly everyone in my part of the world is asleep by about 3 am, making the time afterward uniquely my own -- time when I can rest outside myself, since that's where I usually am.

Now back to this new and intriguing concept: resting in myself. I thought I could already do it, and perhaps -- from time to time -- I can. My longing is quite specific, however: to know what it's like to rest in myself most of the time. As an empathic and strongly sensitive being, I spend a great deal of my day exhausted. What would my days look and feel like if I could keep more of my vitality and life energy for myself? Even when -- perhaps especially when -- I interact with others?

I don't know yet exactly what it's like; how could I? This is a relatively new idea for me. For the nonce I'm paying attention to the tenderness blossoming inside me, and the still, small voice that says yes, it is possible to rest in yourself. As I believe, so may I receive.

Thank you for reading to the end, and may you always know how deeply you touch the world.