Ah, yes, I seem to have somehow missed almost the entirety of the month of July. I'd like to say it's because I've been working so hard, but the truth is that a massive wave of confusion swept over me, and I can't even begin to explain where I've been or what I've been doing for a month.
So here it is, August. My old friend, insomnia, has returned with a vengeance. I have midnight tweets for several nights running. My mind is working hard on something, and I don't know yet what it's going to come up with. I bet it will be interesting, and quite possibly worth the wait.
In the meantime, I read back through most of the past entries. Some things are going to come up over and over again. But I don't think it's a bad thing. The World Domination Summit. I said that it could possibly have been life-changing, and I'm increasingly sure that it was. But how, I can't say. I can't tell you.
I listened to a webinar this week from Johnathan Mead, and as part of that, I received a free copy of his book from someone who saw me chatting with him via twitter after the webinar ended. I discovered Jonathan Mead via Johnathan Fields, who was the final speaker at the summit. I ended up at the summit because of Tyler Trevoorsen, and I met Tyler at a tweetup with Joshua Millburn at South by Southwest. I was at SxSw because of Mike Yavonditte and Jane Kim of Hashable, and I met them because of Taariq Lewis. And Taariq Lewis was in #usguys in December, and I met him because of Twitter.
You never know who will lead you to the truth. Sometimes, it takes a lot of guides. And a big helping of luck.
I met someone else in July, and I'm not ready to talk about that, yet. I met several people this month and two of them may very well have changed my life, but I won't know that for even more time. But I met them because of knowing Michael O'Donnel, and Michael I met because of Amy Higgins, and I met Amy Higgins at an IHop in the middle of my last night in Austin at South by Southwest, because I was with Ari. And Ari was from #usguys. And I met him via Twitter.
I could go on like this, but even with insomnia, I know when to quit, and sleep. Let's just say that I sometimes wonder whether all of this is accident, and yet I know it is. Because so many people that I care about are lost to me, and I can't control what happens. I can just look back in awe at how I got to this strange place.
August, may you be the best month of my life, to date. Let it be so.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
A Brief Diversion
(Cut from the previous post in order to make it shorter & more readable.)
Sorry. Getting sidetracked. While I'm already derailed, let me talk for a second about writing and about this blog. I know it's not polished, maybe even deliberately so. I had a big problem with writer's block for a while, so much so that I refused to acknowledge the identity of "writer," for a very long time. I went to graduate school at San Jose State University, and during my time there I somehow caught a pretty bad case of perfectionism. It's an insidious disease. So it's very freeing for me now to write these vignettes with near total abandon. (I'm exaggerating, anyway. The really abandoned writing is all in www.750words.com, which is a lovely, lovely site. Big plug!!)
I write these things in one sitting, usually, and I only do very minor editing. I'm not here to write masterpieces. Several people have questioned or remarked on the"adult content" warning, and I've put that in place deliberately to allow for greater freedom of topic and language. I haven't pushed the limits of that yet, but I have little doubt that I someday will.
I'm not here to write on purpose to help you, or to help anyone else. If something I say gives you a good feeling or inspiration, I'm always excited to hear. But no, it's profoundly selfish. I want to practice writing, get a feel for blogging at a pretty elementary level. And I want to just write. With no expectation of perfection and no real hope of being understood. I want to tell the truth, as I seldom manage in everyday life. The truth is a tricky fish. Slippery.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Facing the Stranger in the Mirror
Have you ever really confronted your own shortcomings? I am, today. It wasn't something I quite planned to do. But it's a funny thing, how I've always promised myself I would face these things, someday. I was so busy running all the time, that I find myself alone at last, and utterly at a loss for where to begin. I'm beginning, anyway.
I'm learning. I have big ideas and projects that I want to tackle, and there are a lot of moments along the way where the going gets difficult. I refuse to quit. Progress comes from a lot of small decisions, and from doing things, and having them work or not work, as the case may be. So I'm sitting here alone (and yet the whole world is in here with me, thank you, internets) and I'm looking right at the problem. Staring it in the eyes, so to speak.
Can you look yourself in the eyes, when you look at yourself in the mirror?
I can see myself reflected, and yet I feel like I'm looking at someone else. We look at each other, this stranger and I, and I promise her that the two of us are going to be just fine. I like her, very much. I feel protective of this new stranger that I am.
So I'll sit here, and face those shortcomings, and fight them, and find ways to flip them around and make them into strengths. I will. Because before action just comes the willingness to do, and the courage to decide. I won't let past failures stop me. Those were just trial runs.
I'll let you know how it goes!
I'm learning. I have big ideas and projects that I want to tackle, and there are a lot of moments along the way where the going gets difficult. I refuse to quit. Progress comes from a lot of small decisions, and from doing things, and having them work or not work, as the case may be. So I'm sitting here alone (and yet the whole world is in here with me, thank you, internets) and I'm looking right at the problem. Staring it in the eyes, so to speak.
Can you look yourself in the eyes, when you look at yourself in the mirror?
I can see myself reflected, and yet I feel like I'm looking at someone else. We look at each other, this stranger and I, and I promise her that the two of us are going to be just fine. I like her, very much. I feel protective of this new stranger that I am.
So I'll sit here, and face those shortcomings, and fight them, and find ways to flip them around and make them into strengths. I will. Because before action just comes the willingness to do, and the courage to decide. I won't let past failures stop me. Those were just trial runs.
I'll let you know how it goes!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Feeding Myself
Well, I can't just keep writing about being a mess, can I? Here's me, still recovering from the World Domination Summit in Portland, OR. I'm all full to bursting with ideas, and my world is overflowing with new people and projects and excitements.
Meanwhile, I have messes left, right, center. I'm looking for a path. It looks like the way forward is to do *something.* Anything.
There's a metaphor I've been using a lot, in conversation with other people. It's one I keep coming back to. I feel as if I have a million-piece jigsaw puzzle, and here and there I've managed to put together some sections of it. These are things that call strongly to me, that I love deeply. There are things I'm good at, and things I love to do. There are people I absolutely love, and people I want to be around. So I have clues, and pieces, and parts.
But somewhere in the middle, the connecting pieces are missing. Other people have tried really really hard to help me with this. I've tried to figure it out, more than once. One of the things that came out of the Summit is a commitment to A) not giving up- I have unwavering faith that this picture will someday come clear, and I refuse to give up. B) letting myself have the space in which to move and C) asking for help without feeling obligated to do what other people advise.
I know you want to help me. I would want to help me if I were my own friend. But if there's anything that's come clear in the last six months, it's that I might just not be ready to be helped. This is something I need very much to work through, myself. That doesn't mean I won't tell you all about it all the time. I don't mind sharing the struggles, or the journey. I don't mind that people want to help or that they try.
What I'm looking for has to come from inside. It has to be my own thing. I've had enough of other people's dreams and expectations. I'm as passionate as can be and will happily throw myself after your dreams, if you let me. I haven't minded. But now I'm just plain tapped out. I don't have anything for you.
I need to feed myself.
Meanwhile, I have messes left, right, center. I'm looking for a path. It looks like the way forward is to do *something.* Anything.
There's a metaphor I've been using a lot, in conversation with other people. It's one I keep coming back to. I feel as if I have a million-piece jigsaw puzzle, and here and there I've managed to put together some sections of it. These are things that call strongly to me, that I love deeply. There are things I'm good at, and things I love to do. There are people I absolutely love, and people I want to be around. So I have clues, and pieces, and parts.
But somewhere in the middle, the connecting pieces are missing. Other people have tried really really hard to help me with this. I've tried to figure it out, more than once. One of the things that came out of the Summit is a commitment to A) not giving up- I have unwavering faith that this picture will someday come clear, and I refuse to give up. B) letting myself have the space in which to move and C) asking for help without feeling obligated to do what other people advise.
I know you want to help me. I would want to help me if I were my own friend. But if there's anything that's come clear in the last six months, it's that I might just not be ready to be helped. This is something I need very much to work through, myself. That doesn't mean I won't tell you all about it all the time. I don't mind sharing the struggles, or the journey. I don't mind that people want to help or that they try.
What I'm looking for has to come from inside. It has to be my own thing. I've had enough of other people's dreams and expectations. I'm as passionate as can be and will happily throw myself after your dreams, if you let me. I haven't minded. But now I'm just plain tapped out. I don't have anything for you.
I need to feed myself.
Lovers Without Love
It's funny how the music I'm listening to tends to take on the color of the moment in time that I'm passing through. The title of this post, Lovers Without Love, comes from a song by Joshua James. Lyrics:
This road has over taught me lessons
About my lonely soul
I am young and getting wiser,
soon I will grow old
Strip my heart from misconceptions
Fill my eyes with grief
Let me make my own connections
In this endless sea.
Oh muscle, cars, and endless bars, and shopping centers for the teens.
High price propane and crack cocaine,
And lovers without love like me.
I see so much my vision's blurry,
In the world i live
If we're to change them we must hurry,
The devil's moving in.
Love and hate can not see colors,
Like the human eyes,
So priests and preachers, parents teachers,
Don't act so damn surprised
Its the world we've made and living in
Of greed lust and poverty,
Of war and pride, teen suicide,
And lovers without love like me
From topless dances to Marilyn Manson,
And lovers without love like me.
There's kids in gangs
We have coveted fame
We have sweat shops across the sea
We have abortive mothers,
We hate each other
There's lovers without love
There's lovers without love
There's lovers without love
Like me
This song really struck me the first time I listened to the album, which is The Sun is Always Brighter (and that's not an affiliate link, btw, this is just plain old me saying "you can get it from Amazon if you want.) It's the last song on an emotive album that I've discovered at an emotionally stormy time in my life, and I am already quite attached to the music. It's been a long time since I adopted a new musical artist or purchased music on someone else's recommendation.
I was introduced to the music of Joshua James last weekend, when I was fortunate enought to spend some time in company with Joshua Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, the two writers of The Minimalists. They both highly recommended his music, particularly a powerfully moving live performance they'd seen. It's now on my list of things to do: see Joshua James in concert.
But my attachment to the music also relates to the timing of this week. All of this year has been tough, right since January first, heading through some of the strangest and most poignant months of my life, to now, June. The last few weeks have been the darkest. I haven't lost my sense of humor, nor my optimism, nor my determination. But I am shaken. I'm doubtful. I'm stuck. Several things ended in May. I guess I'll be starting over, many times over. I'm getting comfortable with failure. I just wish I could handle it differently.
So I was running from all of that, and yet we have a way of finding what we are looking for. I'm hanging on to a couple of moments of joy from last weekend. There were many, but at one point, it was dark in San Francisco, and we were on the bus, which was warm after the cold of the street. And Joshua was finding the directions for where to get off the bus, so that was alright, and Ryan was off his broken ankle and sitting down, so that was alright. Nobody needed my attention for anything in particular. And I had these two really great people, one on either side, that I'd been hanging out with and talking to, and laughing with, and we were in motion, and I've mentioned how I feel right now about movement. I love the feeling of moving, anywhere really. So all of these great things. And Ryan turned on Joshua James, which I was hearing for the first time. We shared a set of headphones, one each, and I just remember listening to this music, and the feeling of being completely, totally, relaxed, happy, content.
I don't know what any of it means. Just that it was meaningful to me, and somehow it's part of the million piece jigsaw puzzle. I still believe that somehow if I keep following my heart, the picture will come together. I know it.
This road has over taught me lessons
About my lonely soul
I am young and getting wiser,
soon I will grow old
Strip my heart from misconceptions
Fill my eyes with grief
Let me make my own connections
In this endless sea.
Oh muscle, cars, and endless bars, and shopping centers for the teens.
High price propane and crack cocaine,
And lovers without love like me.
I see so much my vision's blurry,
In the world i live
If we're to change them we must hurry,
The devil's moving in.
Love and hate can not see colors,
Like the human eyes,
So priests and preachers, parents teachers,
Don't act so damn surprised
Its the world we've made and living in
Of greed lust and poverty,
Of war and pride, teen suicide,
And lovers without love like me
From topless dances to Marilyn Manson,
And lovers without love like me.
There's kids in gangs
We have coveted fame
We have sweat shops across the sea
We have abortive mothers,
We hate each other
There's lovers without love
There's lovers without love
There's lovers without love
Like me
This song really struck me the first time I listened to the album, which is The Sun is Always Brighter (and that's not an affiliate link, btw, this is just plain old me saying "you can get it from Amazon if you want.) It's the last song on an emotive album that I've discovered at an emotionally stormy time in my life, and I am already quite attached to the music. It's been a long time since I adopted a new musical artist or purchased music on someone else's recommendation.
I was introduced to the music of Joshua James last weekend, when I was fortunate enought to spend some time in company with Joshua Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, the two writers of The Minimalists. They both highly recommended his music, particularly a powerfully moving live performance they'd seen. It's now on my list of things to do: see Joshua James in concert.
But my attachment to the music also relates to the timing of this week. All of this year has been tough, right since January first, heading through some of the strangest and most poignant months of my life, to now, June. The last few weeks have been the darkest. I haven't lost my sense of humor, nor my optimism, nor my determination. But I am shaken. I'm doubtful. I'm stuck. Several things ended in May. I guess I'll be starting over, many times over. I'm getting comfortable with failure. I just wish I could handle it differently.
So I was running from all of that, and yet we have a way of finding what we are looking for. I'm hanging on to a couple of moments of joy from last weekend. There were many, but at one point, it was dark in San Francisco, and we were on the bus, which was warm after the cold of the street. And Joshua was finding the directions for where to get off the bus, so that was alright, and Ryan was off his broken ankle and sitting down, so that was alright. Nobody needed my attention for anything in particular. And I had these two really great people, one on either side, that I'd been hanging out with and talking to, and laughing with, and we were in motion, and I've mentioned how I feel right now about movement. I love the feeling of moving, anywhere really. So all of these great things. And Ryan turned on Joshua James, which I was hearing for the first time. We shared a set of headphones, one each, and I just remember listening to this music, and the feeling of being completely, totally, relaxed, happy, content.
I don't know what any of it means. Just that it was meaningful to me, and somehow it's part of the million piece jigsaw puzzle. I still believe that somehow if I keep following my heart, the picture will come together. I know it.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Letter to my Future Love
I saw this on another person's site, and I just love this idea. It's romantic and silly, and I'm both. Open up and talk about love? Why not? I've been on a roll today.
I'm going through a divorce. This is a hard thing. It's my own fault and my own problem, but I started this blog as an exercise in honesty, and it's still something to strive for, even through these difficulties. I don't tell it all, but I acknowledge the struggles, and the pain. So I know my ex is likely to read this, and that's another hard thing. To know that someone wants you back, whether you deserve it or not. And I don't. And I don't want to go back. More hard things. Nobody said this would be an easy road to take.
I don't ever want to go through this again. I don't ever want to get married again, not through our legal system. I never want to experience this. All of that said, It's now been just about six months since I discovered that I wasn't in love with my husband anymore. The divorce still isn't final on paper, but in my heart, I've really started that strange process of letting go of the past. I'm looking around me now, and discovering an amazing new world of people to love, not all of them as romantic partners, but friends and companions and acquaintances and intellectual partners, and yes, some as potential lovers.
But who, in their deepest heart of hearts, doesn't still dream of true love, not even though the cruelties of real life experience poke holes in that dream an achingly endless number of times? So here, then, is my letter to my true love, whoever that person may be.
To my darling,
Tonight, I do not know who you are. I can't see your form in front of me. The color of your eyes is a great mystery. Are you dark or fair, thin or broad, slender or strong? I wonder. Are you someone I know, or someone I have yet to meet? Or are you someone I'll never meet at all?
Whoever you are, in this imaginary future, I am in love with you. And so this is my letter to you. Here is what I ask. Be with me, nearby. Breathe the air with me. Feel the sunshine on the grass. Go places with me, and hold my hand. Walk with me, and talk with me, and share my world. Be proud of me. Take pride in yourself, in your work, in your life, in your passions, and yet always return to my side, if not for rest, then at least for relaxation. Play with me, and laugh. Move with me, and accept me, and my need to always be in motion. Read on the train, take me on an airplane, drive the length of California with me in my car. Be ready to go. Go with me.
Accept my children, and be aware of them, of their youngness and their frailty, of their fears and their sadnesses, of their beauties and their strengths. Stand with me as I struggle to parent them, but stand never between us, but always at my side. Care for them as much as you can, and inspire them to be like you, in all the best ways. Accept that I will always love them deeply, and that you will therefore never have the full of my heart. Take what is yours, and realize that there is bounty enough in that.
Be prepared for excitements, and passions, and a million crazy dreams. Keep my feet on the ground, but don't put me into a cage. Help me to succeed. Recognize what is good in me, and help me to grow it, little by little, day by day. Help me map a thousand laugh lines onto my face, and rejoice at the appearance of every single new one.
Expect some darkness. Expect some troubles. Be ready to chase the shadows. Be there when I come running from them. Stand strong when I am at my most weak, but don't protect me from the problems I create for myself. Let me get into trouble, and back out again. Have some faith in me. I always land on my feet, in the end, but it takes someone brave to wait through the storms.
Wake up with me in the morning, and make me coffee. Go to sleep with me at night.
Make me feel like the brightest and most beautiful woman on the planet, every time you look in my direction. Smile at me. And bring me flowers on Tuesday afternoons.
Oh, and everyone else? None of these directions will work if you're not the one I picked out in the first place. Otherwise, it would all be too easy, now wouldn't it?
What will you get in return? Oh, nothing much worth mentioning. Affection and loyalty, excessive obsessive passion, obsequious hero-worship, alarming intelligence, amusement and excitement, being just some of the offerings. If you can handle that sort of thing. I expect you'll manage just fine, once you get over the initial shock.
Jackie
I'm going through a divorce. This is a hard thing. It's my own fault and my own problem, but I started this blog as an exercise in honesty, and it's still something to strive for, even through these difficulties. I don't tell it all, but I acknowledge the struggles, and the pain. So I know my ex is likely to read this, and that's another hard thing. To know that someone wants you back, whether you deserve it or not. And I don't. And I don't want to go back. More hard things. Nobody said this would be an easy road to take.
I don't ever want to go through this again. I don't ever want to get married again, not through our legal system. I never want to experience this. All of that said, It's now been just about six months since I discovered that I wasn't in love with my husband anymore. The divorce still isn't final on paper, but in my heart, I've really started that strange process of letting go of the past. I'm looking around me now, and discovering an amazing new world of people to love, not all of them as romantic partners, but friends and companions and acquaintances and intellectual partners, and yes, some as potential lovers.
But who, in their deepest heart of hearts, doesn't still dream of true love, not even though the cruelties of real life experience poke holes in that dream an achingly endless number of times? So here, then, is my letter to my true love, whoever that person may be.
To my darling,
Tonight, I do not know who you are. I can't see your form in front of me. The color of your eyes is a great mystery. Are you dark or fair, thin or broad, slender or strong? I wonder. Are you someone I know, or someone I have yet to meet? Or are you someone I'll never meet at all?
Whoever you are, in this imaginary future, I am in love with you. And so this is my letter to you. Here is what I ask. Be with me, nearby. Breathe the air with me. Feel the sunshine on the grass. Go places with me, and hold my hand. Walk with me, and talk with me, and share my world. Be proud of me. Take pride in yourself, in your work, in your life, in your passions, and yet always return to my side, if not for rest, then at least for relaxation. Play with me, and laugh. Move with me, and accept me, and my need to always be in motion. Read on the train, take me on an airplane, drive the length of California with me in my car. Be ready to go. Go with me.
Accept my children, and be aware of them, of their youngness and their frailty, of their fears and their sadnesses, of their beauties and their strengths. Stand with me as I struggle to parent them, but stand never between us, but always at my side. Care for them as much as you can, and inspire them to be like you, in all the best ways. Accept that I will always love them deeply, and that you will therefore never have the full of my heart. Take what is yours, and realize that there is bounty enough in that.
Be prepared for excitements, and passions, and a million crazy dreams. Keep my feet on the ground, but don't put me into a cage. Help me to succeed. Recognize what is good in me, and help me to grow it, little by little, day by day. Help me map a thousand laugh lines onto my face, and rejoice at the appearance of every single new one.
Expect some darkness. Expect some troubles. Be ready to chase the shadows. Be there when I come running from them. Stand strong when I am at my most weak, but don't protect me from the problems I create for myself. Let me get into trouble, and back out again. Have some faith in me. I always land on my feet, in the end, but it takes someone brave to wait through the storms.
Wake up with me in the morning, and make me coffee. Go to sleep with me at night.
Make me feel like the brightest and most beautiful woman on the planet, every time you look in my direction. Smile at me. And bring me flowers on Tuesday afternoons.
Oh, and everyone else? None of these directions will work if you're not the one I picked out in the first place. Otherwise, it would all be too easy, now wouldn't it?
What will you get in return? Oh, nothing much worth mentioning. Affection and loyalty, excessive obsessive passion, obsequious hero-worship, alarming intelligence, amusement and excitement, being just some of the offerings. If you can handle that sort of thing. I expect you'll manage just fine, once you get over the initial shock.
Jackie
What do I have to Offer?
1) A wicked, and strange, sense of humor.
2) I have the endings to all Jane Austen novels memorized. In case you didn't know, the girl gets the boy. Every time. [Edit: and apparently, I can misspell Jane Austen, and I can correct it later upon noticing... :)]
3) I can type pretty fast.
4) I suffer from a complete inability to pay attention to anything but what I'm passionately interested in. If that happens to be you, well. Merry Christmas!
5) I'm really good at making very pointless lists, and at changing the subject.
6) So, read any good books lately?
7) Oh, I can mostly write ok, and spell, and stuff. LOLZ.
8) I think what I'm mostly good at is shenanigans. And mischief. Sometimes in that order.
9) I am very good with Instagram. I have instagrammed many things. I have made instagrammed into a verb.
10) You tell me?
2) I have the endings to all Jane Austen novels memorized. In case you didn't know, the girl gets the boy. Every time. [Edit: and apparently, I can misspell Jane Austen, and I can correct it later upon noticing... :)]
3) I can type pretty fast.
4) I suffer from a complete inability to pay attention to anything but what I'm passionately interested in. If that happens to be you, well. Merry Christmas!
5) I'm really good at making very pointless lists, and at changing the subject.
6) So, read any good books lately?
7) Oh, I can mostly write ok, and spell, and stuff. LOLZ.
8) I think what I'm mostly good at is shenanigans. And mischief. Sometimes in that order.
9) I am very good with Instagram. I have instagrammed many things. I have made instagrammed into a verb.
10) You tell me?
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