Happy… Birth Day?

i don’t normally celebrate birthdays, as to me, every day is a birth day. When you wake up to a new day, it’s a whole set of new experiences, and ruminations on older ones. We are never the same person we were the day before.

That said, today is a day where my life undoubtedly was altered, physically and mentally. Two years ago the body i now live in was born on March 1, but the contractions began on February 12.

i was hit and ragdolled by an 18 wheeler semi truck.

While i immediately accepted that nothing would ever be the same about the way i moved in the world; it may sound strange to say but there was something comforting about those two months and six days in the hospital, plus whatever time i spent in the rehab clinic. While i always welcomed spontaneity in my life, prior to the accident i had particular patterns i followed. A certain predictability was comforting. My life was extremely simple- as simple as one’s life could be. i was wholly independent. i had little attachment to things; i rode my bicycle everywhere, i got what i needed from the store, whenever i needed something.

After the accident i had to depend on others to do things i suppose i took for granted- riding my bicycle to the store, picking up larger, bulkier/heavier packages, reaching items at a particular height… Even multi-tasking has been harder to do. i know it was difficult for me to form a coherent sentence (both in writing and verbally) when i first got to the hospital; given that i was able to easily respond to questions with no memory lapses though, i thought i was generally okay. The concussion i got (resulting in 6 or 7 staples in my head) seems to have latent effects, because these days, my brain gets overloaded in ways i’d never experienced before. i’m distracted at a much easier rate, and sitting and doing particular tasks for long periods of time has not been as easy.

Yes- while i have come to terms with everything that happened (and am still learning to appreciate my body in its new form- not an easy thing to do), one of the things i struggle with the most is the unpredictability of this new life. This new life is a lot lonelier. The connections i once experienced have lessened greatly. i’m not able to travel outside in the ways i once was. i am dependent on others in one way or another, if i want to leave the house and do anything significant… which means that sometimes, things are not going to get done at the time (or in the amount of time) i’d like them done. Sometimes, just getting around is painful. Some days i have happy days, where i can laugh at myself. Other days i ask myself why i even survived. Some days i feel okay with doing nice things for myself after such a traumatic event; other days i feel guilty.

When everything happened i assured myself that i wasn’t experiencing PTSD, despite this ginormous life-altering event that happened to me. i disagreed with everyone who guaranteed that this struggle would be something i’d be battling.

i suppose i had a certain image in my mind as to how living with PTSD from such a major accident would occur; like everything else major in life though, none of this comes with a handbook.

i want to apologize to everyone, and say that i was wrong.

This book will continue to be written…

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every day alive…

i do my best to listen to the universe’s lessons; i do admit there are times i fall into the trap of reverting to a sense of finality based on my feelings of the current state of what’s presented to me.

knowing that i’m here for a journey (with the attempt at little to no expectations- thus contradicting my first statement) i decided to create a new blog page.  the name of this site is inspired by my favourite song ever in the whole world, ‘home’ (written by charlie smalls).  we’ve become so conditioned to disconnect from the roots which prompt our growth- the community, the skills, the song inside of us- those things we’ve known all along, and have every opportunity to continue knowing about.

suddenly my world’s gone and changed its face
but I still know where i’m going
i have had my mind spun around in space
yet i’ve watched it growing

every day alive…  is a good day.  every tear that falls, every laugh, every drop of rain on your glasses.  every day, there’s a moment to learn from life’s errors, to rebuild bridges.  no moment is insignificant.  no moment is final, yet every moment is impermanent.  welcoming that change is a part of that journey.  it took me many years to accept this aspect of my journey, and to ask for assistance when i am lost.

accepting my gifts?  admittedly it’s been a struggle, in the context of the society i live in.  much of the time i feel like an anomaly, and my way of coping is just spending time alone- but never am i lonely.  i always imagined myself to be one of those old cat ladies, living out the rest of my life in a cabin and working in some capacity as a caregiver.

indeed, i’ve come to the point where i actually appreciate the life i live.  it has been an intensely long journey after a series of relationships which negatively impacted my life.  i decided to take the time out for myself and assure those negative individuals no longer had control over me. growing up in an abusive environment, i began to see my adult life play out in the same way, and i had to step back and spend time alone until i was successful in sincerely valuing myself.

it took eight long years for me to openly even say i LIKE myself.  the mantra of “you’re stupid/ugly/worthless” played out in my mind as a child like a bad pop hit on the radio… it only seemed a natural progression to initiate a relationship with a man who was possessive and abusive, out of fear that i would never know what it was like to be in one.  thinking there would be an emotional growth, the focus for him was more physical.  while certainly i obliged that, and while we also had moments which were truly intimate; i knew that both of us were with each other to fill a void.

i made a decision that i would not do things out of fear, or the feeling of loss.  the void would never be filled in healthy ways if i didn’t do this.  i have also accepted my desire to not play the game, and the consequences that come with that.  because of this, again, i feel like an anomaly.  i do not take part in the rituals of finding a mate- the bars, the clubs, the websites.  i do not drink alcohol, i don’t do drugs (not even pharmaceuticals), i don’t do the small talk which helps to identify if someone is available at the moment.  i don’t dress ‘sexy’, i don’t wear high heels.  i don’t wear makeup.  i don’t utilize the signifiers that would make me remotely attractive to someone trying to find a ‘girlfriend’.

i have been told by some that i have maintained an innocence very rare in this society today.  i’m sure their views are partially guided by the actions named above.

for me, relationships (no matter what capacity they’re in) are very important.  i value the time i spend with someone, and the idea of meeting someone to ‘date’ does not appeal to me.

for me, the word ‘date’ has far too many associations with limited relationships.  just as a date on a calendar lasts for 24 hours per year (for instance we only get one january 1st per year),  a date in my mind implies there’s no interest in building something deeper or more consistent.  a date seems to imply (again in my mind) that the attraction to a person was primarily physical, and the purpose for getting together is to have brief encounters of physical intimacy.

this also applies to the word ‘girlfriend’ or ‘boyfriend’.  as a woman nearing 40, i want to formulate a stimulating, beneficial, mature relationship with an adult, not a child; someone who is not fearful of displaying his vulnerabilities alongside his strengths.  ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’ again, seem limited in scope.

it may seem like semantics to some, a crazy theory to others; however, to contrast a date with a ‘boyfriend’ with an actual companionship lends to different imagery.  as long as i can remember i’ve never actually been interested in dating, and i always desired a companionship based on a deep spiritual/emotional bond between myself and my partner.  this companionship is based on compromise, on declaring needs, honoring independence and on sharing ideas.  when this is established, a physical relationship would be a positive addition to an already positive relationship.

as much as i say this, i am going to be honest and say i don’t know if this is something that will happen for me.  i think my ‘innocence’ (as others see it) gets in the way.  it’s seemingly not a particularly desirable trait, in accordance with societal norms.  i am definitely a lot less closed off to the idea of a partnership than i used to be- i used to say i would never let anyone know how i felt about them, since whenever i did it always ended in pain or rejection.  still, while i have come to welcome the idea of a partner in my life (and even the rejection that comes my way), it’s still an idea.  again, i don’t play the game, nor do i have a desire to.  people tend to see my naivete pertaining to the game and are either turned off, or take advantage of it.

so yes, i have come to accept the potentiality of the ‘crazy cat lady’ future.  i don’t necessarily see this as bad; i mean, i love cats!  i don’t even see the notion of spinsterdom (if that’s even a word at all) being a bad thing, if that’s how one chooses to live.  so many of us are dependent on the idea that we get our life from these so-called dream relationships, without taking into account that (a. the focus on romantic relationships negates the fact that EVERY person we encounter in our daily lives is forming a relationship with us, no matter how minute, and (b. the first and greatest relationship we can form with someone is with the self.  when you have those two things figured out, i can guarantee (from experience) that the relationships you have with others will vastly improve.

if a person were to come into my life and end up as my companion/partner, that would be wonderful; but it’s not the end of my world if it doesn’t happen.

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i find it intriguing that i’m even writing about this subject.  first, it’s something very private and second, i tend to focus on things like sociopolitical analysis (some of which you will get from this blog).  there’s this need for me to welcome a general capacity of love in my life right now.  just like with sociopolitical theory i’ve always looked at love as this abstract thing.  it was always something others could attain, but not me.   love was always that flower that was so wonderful to observe, but you were afraid to be cut by the thorns.  this “sweet yet painful” sensation was written about so eloquently by the great teena marie:

i am the bird that cannot be caged completely
even though I long to spread my wings so bittersweetly

the action of being in love should allow room for flight; for to fall in love symbolizes engine trouble.  that engine is the heart, and the fuel, blood.  the blood pumps back and forth to the heart in order to maintain compassion through the turbulence.  when you ‘fall for’ someone there may be a tendency to lose sense of self. the heart drives one’s nurturing and compassion for the self.  this is all so very new for me, this realization that i have to nurture myself to move on.

i’ve always felt this drive to be nurturing in some way, to care for those who are vulnerable.  i connect all of this with letting go- of a personal item of mine, of time…  to make food for a friend; to create a song for them, to give them something which has been yours for years, they’re all wonderful things.  perhaps this is the role i am to play, as destined by the universe.

i am learning how to make more time for myself, as opposed to usually making time for others.  part of living compassionately for others is accepting that you have needs, and that there’s nothing wrong with vocalizing them.  you must care for yourself first.

this month has been busy to the point where i haven’t had time to sit with myself; however, i decided to stay up the other night and begin making some earrings.  i haven’t done crafts in a serious manner for a while,  and it felt good to do so.  weaving fabric around and  together is quite meditative.  there is something to be said for ancestral memory here.

first earrings.JPG
think.JPG
second earrings.JPG

when i think now, i begin to think of home.  i think of creativity (and returning to it), of listening to my heart.  of finding that surety amongst the insecurity (to once again take inspiration from ms. brockert).

i had a lovely flight and hope that you’ve enjoyed
the change you brought upon my mind

country or city, it makes no difference…  to me

as long as i am breathing in your wisdom songs

forever i’m in love and free

this writing here is about letting go…  it’s about the ultimate knowledge of even the perception of my ‘innocence’ being a reaction to a society which no longer encourages self-reflection.  admittedly i may be running towards finality in some respects, not yet able to see what others see in me; but i do know what i see in myself for now, and  i can say i am finally beginning to like what i see.

and it’s starting to feel like home.

peace…