See the moon up above. Reach out and get it…

My weekend—the overview
I had a beautiful and productive weekend. And it was hard.

The most interesting aspect of that was, that while it was hard, during the actual me-not-enjoying-myself parts, I carried the awareness that the bad feelings would wash away, and that the lasting impression would be that the overall experience was wonderful.

And yesterday confirmed; I felt great.

(Now, if only that knowledge were enough to make the bad feelings go away.)

Saturday
My weekend Things To-Do were: Go to one yoga class (I was aiming for 12:30 on Saturday, because I was to be spending the night at Orien’s, so I would be unable to make the Sunday class), go to my friend Ken’s house to play some music together (2-ish pm Saturday, or right after yoga), (have I mentioned Ken yet? I should do that…), maybe do some laundry (that didn’t happen but I also don’t have that much. yet.), pack up my stuff, including yet another pot of chili and my guitar, and be at O’s at around 6.

Everything looks worse in black and white
To backtrack even further,

(is reading this like watching the movie Memento? key: all the black and white scenes in this post begin in the present and then work their way back in time)

I got a call on Thursday evening? maybe? from Orien, inviting me to a bonfire/tattoo ritual at his place. Abraham, one of the guys who does tattoos for this whole group (including mine) was taking a trip up from Maryland . I allude to one of our group tattooing rituals here (happens to also be the I Meet Joe entry) and there is a picture of my tattoo peeking out of my shirt here. Due to the fact that I am technically unemployed and literally quite broke, I had no intention of getting any work done, but a weekend of hangout and intention/transforming energy in the crisp upstate air sounded just fine to me. I have been quite booked and busy lately; this weekend I didn’t have much. It was perfect.

I shoulder yoga
So Saturday morning I kick some Saturday morning ass by getting it together to make a 9 am yoga class. Go me! Only here’s the thing… my shoulder (part of the ongoing neck/back problem that had been less of an irritation this whole time I haven’t been working, but has been nothing but trouble now that I’m back among the living) has been especially brutal this week. Like, seriously painful. And I am convinced that yoga can be a solution… that my body needs to stretch, and the healing will come from the stretch. But for now, it hurts. Badly. Constantly. And this particular yoga class was hard (this teacher has always been a subtle killer… she gives you these tiny moves that seem like nothing and suddenly you are dying or just wish you were) and it was particularly hard, as it turned out, on my shoulder. Because early in the class she happened to focus on shoulder stretching moves, and they really hurt but they felt so good for me, but then later there were a lot of poses where we were on hands and knees (or variations of that) and my by-now-already-taxed shoulders were supporting me. And I am good about taking care of myself in class; knowing when to push and when to just stop. But there were a few moments where I was fighting (well, and losing the fight) tears.

And this past week? Emotionally? Funny story.
I finally read Shopgirl (I had picked it up months ago, and it’s a little book, but I pretty much never read, nor do I have good reading habits, and so I did not get around to finishing it. Until last week.)

Yeah. Turns out it is a story of a relationship where the guy is perfectly honest about how yes he cares about her but no he is not committed to her and he is still looking for ‘the one’, and the girl only hears that he cares about her, and is convinced he will come around. Really lovely story. Truly.

But uhh… sound familiar?

It made me want to end it with Joe. Again.

And I didn’t, because, well, that would be dumb. (Not ending it with Joe… that probably would not be dumb. But ending it because a book got under my skin. That would be dumb.) Joe and I trudge along, doing what we’re doing, and there’s craziness in the cling, perhaps. And sometimes I embody that sadness that comes with being in a sad relationship, but also, with feeling unfulfilled, and more often than not, Joe, in my head, is the source and target of that sadness. But Joe is not, in reality, the source of that sadness. The wound is in place, and Joe is a sweet salve for it at times, and salt at other times. The Joe who is on my mind and makes me sad a lot is almost a figment of my imagination. In my mind, I am often looking for Joe. Like, I want him to be the end of a sentence… and he’s not, and I get sad about that. It’s like a habit for me, like a tic; starting sentences that should end with Joe, and then being disappointed that he’s not the answer. The actual Joe, the Joe I connect with and joke with and make plans with doesn’t loom so large; and he doesn’t hold the key to my happiness, and doesn’t take away so much.

But the book sprinkled a little sadness over an otherwise pleasant week. (Happy New Year, folks!) I was primed for sad.

Wasn’t this going to be about the weekend???
So Saturday I drive up to Orien’s, feeling great. I got to the early class, got very stretched out, and going earlier left more time to do the packing part. Ken and I put our guitars and voices together quite nicely, and I had a lovely time with his wife and adorable son, Aidan. So yes, feeling great, feeling accomplished, and feeling stretched out and musically inspired. I am heading to what is sure to be wonderful space.

So WAS IT OR WASN’T IT A GOOD TIME??
Oh! Sorry. It was. It was wonderful. there were maybe a dozen or so people in and out of there. The group was just right, the weather good, the food fantastic, the vibe was right on. I connected with folks I hadn’t really known well before, and had some really strong moments with others. I played some music, and spent some awesome time with Orien Rose, and was present for one of her infusions. Which sucked.

I wound up wanting very much to get tattooed. My tattoo has been worked on six times… it represents a very long history. And then I had the breast reduction. Abraham and I have discussed all along that he would eventually do more work on it… the tattoo was changed a lot, with some missing pieces, as a result of the surgery. It still looks pretty amazing, but when you get up close, you see what’s going on (leaves cut in half, a partial butterfly, etc.). And I wanted to do this work, in this space. I wanted to complete that cycle. I think I also just wanted the pain, wanted the tears… I am such a different person than I was four years ago (the last time it was worked on). SO MUCH more emotional. And I was feeling it. Emotional.

And it starts to go wrong how?
The other thing that was going on was my shoulder pain. It was excruciating. All the time. And it was weakening me.

So I asked people in the group if anyone was available to do massage or Reiki on me. I was advised to ask Lynn. And I asked her directly if she could do Reiki on me, and she said yes.

At the same time I was asking Abraham if I could get some time with him to discuss the tattoo. I told him I would have to make payment arrangements, but could we move forward with me providing a small down payment. He said it wasn’t likely he would have time to work on me this weekend, but yes, we could discuss it.

For me, I really, really wanted the process to at least start. I wanted the focused attention. It’s hard to describe… there is a difference in the intention from a discussion of We’ll do it in the future to more of a consult.

Lynn did not come back to me that day, and then she got tattooed. My pain was getting worse. I was tired. It is hard to go back to someone and re-ask for such a gift.

Abe was hard to pin down. He can be a bit prickly, and without solid money coming his way from me (that’s my interpretation) he was not overly enthusiastic about proceeding.

And it was like this, back and forth between these two things. I felt isolated. I felt ignored. I felt unloved. And I was missing Joe… again, this nebulous sensation of a state of no-Joe, installed for the mere benefit of reinforcing my feelings of being unloved. I am awesome at this.

Lynn eventually left, but was returning Sunday.

Abe and I began our discussion. I told him one idea I had. He said that with the amount I was planning on paying, he couldn’t even technically consider it a down payment. And he also said that my design wasn’t thought through yet. I pushed back… Yes, that’s why I’m talking to you about it. I want your input as a designer.

Please know that in between all of this I am greatly enjoying his, and Lynn’s, and everyfuckingperson’s company. I really am.

Abe says we’ll look at it tomorrow after breakfast.

Tomorrow, when Lynn shows up, I ask her right away could she work on me today. She says yes. That was the last time it was discussed, and when I left at 5:30, there was no acknowledgment. I don’t really understand how that works, but I couldn’t ask any more times. I was drained.

During breakfast I tell Abe that Orien suggested that we do a mapping (if I have the term correct) of the breast so that he will have a record of what exists now. Abe kind of has to do it, because Orien is like the word of the universe to him.

After breakfast he sets up some other tattoos. These are people who have to be somewhere later. Abe’s time management is not the best, but there is certainly no mention of me.

The moment he finishes I ask if we can do me next. I can’t be there into the evening… I am too tired and need to be home to prepare for the real world on Monday.

The sadness is overwhelming to me now. It swirls in with the sleep deprivation and the shoulder pain and the fight to be taken care of. It is all one sad-swirl.

(Also, I notice that playing my guitar is hurting my shoulder. Auggh!!!)

And I look at what happened one week ago. And I know that sometimes, maybe even frequently, I just get so sad and I can’t make it go away. But like I said way up at the beginning, I knew, through the sad, that I was ultimately having a nourishing experience, even with the pockets of frustration and lonliness.

Abraham and I did sit down. He did a mapping, and we discussed what we would do… he pointed out that my scar still had a bit of pink in it, so we couldn’t do any work now, regardless, and we might not even be able to do it in January, the next time he is scheduled to come up. But I feel great that we have taken this step.

Once more I will say… this weekend was filled with laughs and dancing and hugs and tears and flirting. It was NOT just me sulking on a couch.

So how’s it going?
I’ve been doing yoga every morning since I’ve taken this freelance assignment in the city. Not much, just a few minutes every morning. But enough that I’m not afraid of moving, which was enough to get me to a class two weekends ago, and again this past weekend. And when I go to a whole class, my body is encouraged to do more.

Sunday morning, at O’s, I didn’t do any. But I did find ways to stretch my shoulder that came out of my yoga experience, and I spent a lot of time doing that. Also, I used the glorious Hitachi Wand (O’s wife Christine is a sex educator who sells toys) on my neck and shoulder quite a bit.

And yesterday morning, Monday morning, I went to do my yoga and I did not want to stop. I did not have to force myself to do another pose, I did it enthusiastically. And I did enough that my body actually felt like it had been to a class. Which puts a hop in my step.

And yesterday morning, Monday morning, my shoulder did not hurt nearly as much. And I felt refreshed and rejuvenated and full of hope.