upstairs

(having woken up neither alone nor in my own) bed, 15h50

28 March 2010

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. . . . . . . I've recently found I have a penchant for list-making. I came up with one last Tuesday with the intention of stablizing my budget/work ethic/mental health for the rest of my stay.

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J'atteste que, d'ici, je ferai mon mieux de :

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- stop smoking

- not go out more than 3 times a week (hanging out at friends houses not included)

- not wake up with a hangover more than 5 times a week (one day sans alcool prefered)

- only have 1 night of dating/sex/excess flirting (dancing) per week

- speak French more often

- budget

- not beat myself up when I fuck up any of the aforementioned goals

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A week later and I have not adhered to a single one of these points. Though I am giving the final one a worthwhile shot.

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Saturday night we were at a party together and I went home with him. I cornered him in a window where we were smoking and suggested we makeout. Just a little. Because I was drunk and probably wouldn't remember it. I was wearing a scarf for a shirt (don't -- I know ...). I had taken a nice guy from Miami home from a bar the night before (when it rains, it pours) and was feeling confident and sexy and more than slightly careless. But even from the first kiss, the whole thing felt like saying good-bye.

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It's funny, since I got here I've never done so much nothing. But not nothing like watching tv or youtube or facebooking (yikes) but frequently, with friends and sometimes alone, we just sit and let time pass without overthinking it. Not everyday but a couple hours a week at least. I think I'm in a rare place in my life where I can do this -- where I can allow time to be filled with simply being and not trying to occupy it with the pressure to work or chat or move or think. And there's still a buzz of anxiety and guilt that surrounds these moments but practice has been helping my parlor-room meditations (or so I have decided to call them) and the company of friends keeps me present so I that I don't get lost in thought (for the most part) and am able to let things kind of just be what they are for a while (as in, not good or bad or exciting or boring, but just as they are in that moment).

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I had one of these times yesterday. For hours. Until 5 o'clock in the afternoon we laid in bed and did nothing. And I found myself at one point consumed with anxiety over not wanting to leave where I was and then paradoxically needing to leave because I was so overwhelmed with the idea of that space in time ending. And then I realized how hard I was still working to control my experience rather than just letting it go and exist and end when it had to. And I recognized the fact that I was happy in that moment, and that I knew (most certainly) that I would not be for the time that followed and (most importantly) that that negative experience will only serve to lead me back to another moment of happiness, even more fulfilled by a greater sense of experience and enlightenment. And while it was a hard place to maintain for just a couple hours yesterday (and even harder today), it was quite blissful letting go of all control because I felt somewhat comfortable with the present and the (presumably more sucky) future (leading to a fuller experience of another moment of happiness, and so forth and so on, ad fin.).

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Was it a good idea, then ? Well, no, for obivious reasons. (Maritza very lovingly told me I was dumb when I came home on Sunday*) But, maybe for other reasons ...

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I realized after I had my big melt down two weeks ago that part of my problem was that I had let this idea of "myself" become too big to support. "I" had to know what "I" was doing and where "I" was going and what that meant to "me". After a great deal of reflection (and feeling like shit) I remembered that it doesn't matter -- it doesn't matter whether or not I know what I'm doing as long as I can sense that I'm not in it alone (even if I can't always pin-point who's there with me) and that I am still working toward something (even if I still don't know what that something is ...).

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So that feeling of "good-bye" ? Well, I imagine it's not the last time I'm going to see him (though, I'm almost hoping at this point it'll be the last time we sleep together), so maybe it was letting go of some dependency on controling this idea of "me" and who "I" can see and what "I" should do and what "I" have to have happen and needing someone to be responsible when it does all go to shit -- because since January there hasn't been a single thing which has worked out the way that "I" expected it to.

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And to this point, I couldn't have been luckier.

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* Which was totally justified. x