Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Fuck your Foggy magic.

A friend of mine wrote about how she found a moment of compassion in the midst of a longer space where she was lost in fears and doubts. A hellacious monkey mind misery, and she found that small, still space in which compassion and understanding shine their lights... And that moment of compassion really illuminated things for her, and allowed her a measure of space in which to hold love for herself and for her love.

It was all part of a morning ritual that she has with her coffee... 

And, of course, the beautiful mug with the steam rising and the soft lights... all there...

Get all that? I got to read it, as it was in a post that floated into my days.  I was really touched by the addition of compassion to such a seemingly mundane ritual. (And one that I mostly do in an unthinking and vague fashion, every day).  ... And i told her so... and she said to me, essentially this.... 'I promise you that the moment before compassion was just as messy as any you have had.  Which is the magic moment?'

MY MIND HAS BLOWN UP, and is lying in little shreds all over the kitchen floor.

   Is all this crap just the magic moments I am being forced to practice with ?

Are my magic moments filled with sadnesses and memories that have lost their meaning and angers over the non-existence of closure or peace? AND HOW DO I GET MYSELF TO RECOGNIZE THE MAGIC OF THE MISERY?

This past month I had a job.  It was the most perfect Segway into working for the first time in a decade ever. It was part -time, when I could get there and the boss was a man I went to high school with and while i may make him a smidge uncomfortable, I am incredibly comfortable with him. So, all in all, a perfect set-up, and was just to last a month, so its even over now, as I write.

And the kids got sick, all of them. One of them missed an entire week of school.  (Couldn't-go-to-the-job-sick) I got sick, motionless on a sofa for two days. Motionless.  (No work) And then the sickness extended into vacation and it was the most goddamned stressful, maddening horrifying time of realization for me.  That I am in a really fucking hard place, that I have three kids, and when they are sick, the world shuts down. That any job I ever have is going to have to be prefaced by, "i have three kids and I'm the solo caretaker.'...That I am doing this by mySELF,  no grandparents can babysit when there is such calamity in the house... and i really have no idea how i am going to continue or what the hell it is going to look like.  I did put them all in a school/extended camp/daycare one whole day during vacation and they loved it, so that is an excellent thing to know. And it took up half the money that i made during that whole week. WEEK of part-time work, ONE day of childcare for three.
I am feeling very crazy about all of this, and I am trying to not be filled with Rage at J's every carefree move.

Finding compassion for myself?
Fuckno. Just lots of fear and questions ... and yes, daffodils and lavender.  I'm going to be fine, but man, when i get freaked out, its big, and I try like a motha to focus on the moment to moment and to enjoy the hell out of my flipping amazing kids ....

But holy hell, i am in the rock and hard place. (And I'm getting child support and alimony, but that is finite and i fucking hate it, so i want to  flamethrow myself out of this trap. )

SO WHAT? THIS is the magic? WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK?  (Kermit arms)