past incursive

During a conversation with Colleen and Sasha I hear the word “sisters”. We’re talking about the Von Grey Band but what pops into my head is the time I kissed my girlfriend’s sister at a party. This is followed immediately by my girlfriend’s reaction and my own feelings of regret. Now I’m asking myself: Do Colleen and Sasha somehow know about this? That can’t be ..it happened too long ago! Yet, I’m moved by an urge to confess this shameful act and redeem myself. I resist but end up missing the rest of the conversation. “You okay?” Sasha asks.

rambling practice

The word meander means to proceed by or take a winding or indirect course .. explore whatever captures the imagination ..engage in a quest to attract novel experiences. I think it’s the word that best describes my journal writing practice. It’s a record of my meanderings both inward and outward. In other words ..it’s all over the place. My thoughts kind of go that way. Motivated more by curiosity than intent. I guess to the casual observer that would appear rambling and frivolous. However, if I had to give it a purpose I would to say it’s my way of explaining things to myself. See how ridiculous they sound once I read them back. Now that I've finished this one I’m going meandering through town.

da Vinci code

zen fortune cookie: I try and act as if everyone is a teacher who has something to offer. I get this from Leonardo da Vinci who once said: “It should not be hard to stop and look into the stains of walls, or ashes of a fire, or clouds, or like places, and, if you consider them well, find really marvelous ideas.” So, I know a writer  at UCSB. Her work is brilliant. Her ideas are fascinating and she’s hell of a lot smarter than me. Yet she’s a terrible speaker. She rambles incoherently and interrupts constantly ..repeating things like “uh, you know” and “like, I mean”  Now I’m not trying to be critical or anything .. it just makes me feel like I want to reach out and help. But I decide against it. I’m no great speaker or writer or anything. So I remind myself to clean up my own speech. Try changing that instead of her.

American spirit award

It seems like self-promotion is one of America’s great national pastimes. People are constantly hawking their accomplishments ..myself included. I’m getting tired of it and try to catch myself when I do it. I guess this runs counter to the mantra that says: just go for it ..nothing ventured nothing gained. But saying whatever comes to mind, regardless of merit ..and expecting affirmation .. makes me feel kinda’ empty.

Rule-driven

       ..whereabouts unknown

 “Perpetual devotion to what we call business is only sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things.” ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Day 56:  I think my new obsession with counting carbs is making my taste buds dull. I’m wondering what other things my senses are missing. The sign that says: no pain no gain has definitely taken a toll on my flexibility. I feel about as stiff as a board. In my search for common ground I think I’ve been missing subtle differences. Now I don’t know but I’ve been told knowledge is knowledge of differences. Or is that the language of separation ..(?) Lately I feel like a commodity that requires a ton of self-promotion. And this what’s-in-it-for-me attitude is robbing me of what’s-in-the-moment. Dr Thompson says he doesn’t know too many people with good mental health who don’t also have good presence-of-mind. Even Ecclesiastes says “..what the eye beholds is better than what the mind foresees.” Makes me wonder if I haven’t veered off-course somewhere.

Neuróticos Anónimos

“I can’t seem to face up to the facts / I'm tense and nervous and I / Can’t relax / I can’t sleep ‘cause my head’s on fire / Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.”

Day 48:  Hi, I’m B. and I’m neurotic. I get uncontrollably weepy during movie scenes. Especially when someone is experiencing some kind of adversity ..as well as when they’re overcoming adversity. Watching ‘Hunger Games’ was a real roller coaster ride. I get angry when I read the paper. I quarrel with authorities, my father, and other family members ..even when they’re not around. I feel like my tolerance for frustration is slipping into dangerous territory, which frightens me because I’m obsessive about my mental health and take frequent sanity-checks. When it checks out OK I’m afraid I may be rationalizing something away. Like, is so much media distraction good ..? Beats tranquilizers. But when does it start to do just the opposite ..? I go around and around a lot. I’m irritated by people who show-off during casual conversation. I’m irritated by myself for showing off during casual conversation, which tells me what I dislike about others is most often myself.

proprioceptive entry

Cleansing my palate by sucking on a lemony-flavored ricola and washing it down with warm water. Asking myself what’s worth writing about ..weighing the alternatives like I usually do ..obsessing about what others might think. What sounds cool is the big question. Like the characters in a Tom Wolfe novel ..constantly imagining the impression I leave with others ..and like those characters ..getting it wrong most of the time. When I think I look cool I probably come across more like an egotistical jerk. Now I’m reminding myself to behave in a more yielding manner, which is a topic for another time. Stop. Now I’m struggling with a short list of topics to write about ..rehab ..people of interest to me ..my own ‘explanatory style’ ..what do I mean by explanatory style ..? Looking at the narrative I use to explain what’s been happening in my life. Like when I blow off practice or a social event ..is it because I’m lazy, timid, neurotic? Slack by nature? Are these the reasons I have this gnawing feeling of discontentment ..? And are these the reasons I’ll be forever doomed to feelings of discontentment ..?

Proprioceptive writing is a practice I learned at an Esalen workshop~> [ link ]

Some kind of tranquility

I'm on deck writing. I call it ‘tranquility base’ because that's what the sign says on the fence over my head ..the sign my sister gave me. There’s also a creek running by and trees filtering the sun ..gives me a sense of, well .. tranquility. My laptop sits perched on the table next to me. It’s connected to the Internet wirelessly. I like to think of it as an open portal to everyone everywhere. I chat on it from time to time. A ‘westerly’ comes through the trees and I move into the protection of the porch. Now I’m sitting under a Finches nest. They’re probably wondering what I'm doing on their property below. They’re turning my porch into, like ..the bottom of a birdcage. It’s OK ..I got newspaper. Today I'm giving myself a mental health break. A reward for finishing a project on time. Been hunkered down behind a computer so long ..I need to refresh my senses ..improve my peripheral vision ..stretch my legs ..and look at my feet. Now I notice I’m mentally chatting with people who aren’t there ..creating instances of them in my head so to speak. I give them voices and simulate conversations we really had ..picking up where we left off. Now I’m quarreling. Now I’m telling myself to stop quarreling. Now I’m giving it a different ending.