Left: 'the holy alien'.
October 20th
Day 11 of forgiveness
Something inside me is shaking. I can’t seem to help it.
I almost feel like I’m on the edge of a depression, it’s fucking awful. Maybe 28 days of forgiveness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Maybe I can let it go. Maybe I want 28 days of dance instead. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Put on a good song every morning and dance.
I got into this whole idea of forgiveness as a sort of programme. The only programme that’s worked for me in life has been to focus on the good and the wanted; holding focus on whatever brings joy.
So instead of forgiveness, what could I do? Maybe the word itself annoys me. It’s so weighed down with piousness isn’t it? Oooh, I forgive you.
Yet I have to say, something has definitely shifted. When I think of the Fish, I don’t feel like seeing her plunge off a cliff-top, reappearing only to show a bloodied face. I sort of feel neutral. Why on Earth would I care so much for someone who wasn’t even a very good friend to me anyway? What’s going on there? She was impatient, cold, calculating, disloyal, and mercenary. So if that’s the mirror, the shadow side of me that needed integrating ... holy shit.
But I did do my best to do just that. You’re a bitch. Fine, then so am I. You’re cold? Ok, I’m sure there are a few people who have struck ice with me on occasion (though, quite frankly, it’s hard to believe).
Thing with the old mirror idea is that the more you love yourself and release others from judgement, you find you don’t attract as many fuckwits into your life. So when Fish ceased to be my friend, it’s because our game was over. The delightful play of bully and victim, rich and poor, cold and hot. An interesting and energetic dance, but really, how exhausting!
So thankyou, Fish Face, for showing me what I no longer needed to have around. For showing me my shadow and how it has it’s gifts. Cos there will be times when being a ‘bitch’ comes in handy, and when maintaining distance might be the wise move. Dunno when, but hey, I’m trying to be positive here.
Maybe 11 days of forgiveness is enough?
Shall I try 28 days of dance? Bet it’s more fun.
Got a good weekend to look forward to, seeing David on Friday (dinner I think, ooh, I can wear my black lace dress), Tam for lunch on Saturday, and possibly catching up with Andrew for coffee on Sunday. Tam’s having a bbq on the Sunday for the big game, but I’m not sure if I’m going to mum’s or not. Sort of wish I could divide myself.
Moonlight Wish
May your aliens and angels sustain you
may the light of the new moon drench your house in the fulfilment of wishes
The traffic flows freely and your coffee is strong and it hits the spot
Children smile at you, dogs wag their tails
The hedges smell of lavender and lemons fall from the trees into your hands
You are loved, cut open for the sky to look into
Eyes
Moonfilled
Scooping sunlight from the earth
Rolling
Down the hill
Into the sea, laughing.
October 22nd 2011
Well slap me with a fish and call me crazy, I feel considerably better.
I will do day 12 of my forgiveness work tomorrow. I’ve realised (thanks to David really) that I may as well plug away and finish it. After that, perhaps 28 days of dance will follow.
I wore my black lace on Friday and enjoyed an average dinner with above average company at Altar in Mt Eden. I really like the way D looks at me. He doesn’t give ‘normal’ compliments either, it’s more like “you’ve done really well” which I still like ... but it does make me imagine I’ve come first for entering a prize pig at the school fair.
“You’ve done very well”
“Thankyou Sire, I oiled my pig in lemon oil and sang her songs every night for months. I hoped it would make the difference!”
“I think it’s safe to say it has lass, I think it’s safe to say it has.”
The farmer looks kindly upon the schoolgirl clutching her shiny pig (wait, this could turn into a porn story if the girl was a bit older).
I digress!
I think what I was trying to say was that I’ve had another lovely time with D. He’s not ready to go off the dating site yet, so I may as well go back on so that things aren’t imbalanced. Yes, yes, I know, he’s completely mad, he should really snap me up while he can, but you can’t rush these things can you? Well, you can, but it doesn’t bode well for anyone. Best to take it easy, part of trusting myself.
I had lunch with Tam today; another average meal, this time at Elevation out West. God help me, it was dire in terms of service and the quality of the food was lower than a University cafe. But still, once more, very high quality company. Fortunately I have one of those discount books (Entertainment) so it ended up being quite cheap. If it was full price it would have been painful.
They forgot to charge us for one glass of wine, and I’d normally be honest and tell them, but felt we deserved a tip for going there. Yes that’s right, Tam and I probably should have been paid to eat there ... it was just so odd, with some dude running around in his jandals, and one of the waitresses totally incapable of forming even a rudimentary grimace let alone a smile.
Ahhh, feeling rested and positive.
Onward and upward my prize pigs, onward and upward.
Sunday 23rd October:
Went to the hot pools with D last night, the wonderfully run down Palm Springs out Helensville way. We've had another long date. It appears to have started on Friday night, and only in the last few hours he went home to do a few things. We know we should WATCH THE BIG GAME, and that it might be quite rude not to. We might MISS OUT if we don't go and share the vibe with lovely people.
I could quite easily sit in bed and watch a DVD on the laptop, have a cuppa, a piece of fruity toast with too much butter, maybe run into the lounge and put the game on in the last half and yell a bit if we win. I do want to go to Tam's bbq, but I have that thing where I'm all languid and sleepy. (Found out the game isn't on till about 9pm, so that's good).
And now, how's this for a poem:
Lines in Gold by Gerad de Nerval
Man, do you think yours is the only soul?
Look around you. Everything that you see
Quivers with being. Though your thoughts are free,
One thing you do not think about, the whole.
Beasts have a mind. Respect it. Flowers too.
Look at one. Nature brought forth each petal.
There is a mystery that sleeps in metal.
"Everything feels!" and has power over you.
Be careful! The blind wall is spying on us.
Even matter is connected to a word ...
Do not make it serve some unholy purpose.
A god in darkness often walks obscured.
As eyelids of a newborn infant open
A spirit wakes and gazes in the stone.
I feel like I only understand about half of that. It's the last stanza I'm not sure about ... is the god in darkness us? The spirit waking and gazing in the stone, is it a tombstone? Ooh it's good stuff whatever the case.
'The gifts and ghosts of lovers past', that's a good beginning of a poem. Not sure where to take it though ...
Tell you what I'm going to listen to far too often as summer approaches; The Stranglers. I only ever knew a handful of their songs. I remember a flatmate, Michael, listened to them. I had a huge crush on him and after he moved out of the flat we started going out together. It was very intense. Didn't last long. He'd been molested as a child and I was the first person he'd ever told, but instead of drawing us close he ended up getting really weird and nasty. I never did hold a grudge against him. It's easy to forgive when you know there was a really good reason for the person to be so fearful.
Anyway, he had good taste in music, but I couldn't quite get into The Stranglers, New Order and Joy Division to the degree that he did. I was mainly thinking of 'nice and sleazy' but now that I've listened to some of the other tracks I realise how good it all is ... and not easy to define either.
Oh, went to Siren cafe today and D (for Double Dragon) pronounced his eggs Benedict satisfactory but the service sullen. My meal was also fine, but I think I could've done just as well at home. My poached eggs were ever so slightly overdone and there was a distinct lack of moisture. I requested some aioli (have I spelt that wrong?) but it should have come with it automatically. Many cafe staff seem to lack the ability to smile. I could run smiling classes for people.
Fortunately the coffee was very good, and after that we strolled through Lopdell house, found out how different our tastes were in the world of ... was it pottery? I really liked these massive white Hares ... one with full breasts and layers of fat, the other gaunt and looking into a mirror. Just amazing. D preferred a very simple pot with pencil markings on the exterior, the interior bright orange. He also admired these very shiny looking teapots. I think they were teapots. I liked his reasoning though; they lacked pretension and were pleasing to the eye.
In the shop I admired the bright resin birds which he declared garish. I suppose I could have said the 'pencilled pot' was only interesting in that it could actually hold some pencils, but I think that's a bit mean, and I don't want to be mean to people I like.
I'm far too sensitive, I know.
The gifts and ghosts of lovers past
line the walls and fade
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