Sharing strength

Yesterday,961166_angel_2 I was backsliding a bit, feeling down and tired and worried. Today, my Reiki Master stepped in as my personal Angel of Healing to try to lift me past this health mess. She just did a distance session on me and sent me a ton of energy — I literally feel tingly from the energy work she did. It’s crazy and amazing that Reiki can work even when she’s in Vermont and I’m in Tennessee, with hundreds of miles between us. I didn’t really expect to feel much of anything, but boy, was I wrong. I can definitely tell that she worked on me! We’re planning to do three more sessions this week, although I have to say, just this one has me very encouraged.

Generous, compassionate friends are the best friends you can have.

Awake

Woman sitting with her head bowed“I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems / Got to open my eyes to everything”
Evanescence, “Bring Me To Life

I spent the past week at a creative writing retreat, one I’ve been to many times. In some ways, it felt like I was spending more time alone; at home, I’ve always got my parents flitting in and out, but somehow, being at Wildacres is different. Even though I was staying in a building that slept 50 other people, when all the doors are closed and everyone is hard at work (or possibly napping), it’s easy to feel isolated.

Of course, then you go to a meal with fifty friends old and new. You’re surrounded by conversation whether you want to be or not. (For the record, I rarely mind, because the conversations tend to be unique and are often pretty fascinating.)

After a few days there, I honestly feel more awake, more present, more alive. I can’t decide precisely why, although I suspect it’s a range of factors: a sense of renewal that comes with a break from news, TV, and internet; the sense of connection with a writing community; even a simple change of scenery, the escape from the ever-present demands of work (a huge disadvantage of working from home — it’s always a few steps away). I feel more confident when I’m there, like I’m a better version of myself.

Unfortunately, the feeling starts to wear off pretty quickly once I get home. Maybe it’s the exhaustion talking, but by mid-afternoon today, I was already starting to feel impossibly cranky and more than a little depressed. I miss my writing people, and I have zero interest in working tomorrow (or possibly ever again). Severe gloom on re-entry is commonly reported by members of our group, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle. I’m hoping another good night’s sleep will help. If not, I guess I’ll figure out a new strategy tomorrow.

Over and out.

Brief thoughts on healing

This morning, for the first time in years, I got an email from a guy I’ll call my Significant Ex (defined as someone you’ll never forget, or someone who truly messed you up, or possibly both). It wasn’t a long email, and it was more or less necessary, since he was sending me info for a project I’m doing. But he asked how I was, and wished me well, and said that I was missed. I won’t lie: this guy did mess me up a bit way back when, and I’ll admit to some lingering resentment over that fact. So you wouldn’t think I’d be particularly moved by a few simple lines after years of radio silence.

But I was. For whatever reason, I felt genuinely touched by his simple offerings and inquiries. And that wounded bit of me healed just a little.

I guess there are always opportunities for healing broken relationships — a subject I’ve been pondering of late. I discovered new evidence last week that the other party in a damaged friendship had given up on me; and even though I initiated our Parting of the Ways a few years ago, it still made me a little sad to know that that door had closed for good.

Maybe life is just a series of people coming and going, doors opening and closing. But maybe closed doors can reopen, if and when we’re ready for them.

On Being Selfish

Since Hurricane Katrina upended my life, I took my unselfish self up quite a few notches, learning whole new ways to be incredibly generous. I opened my one-bedroom apartment to my newly homeless parents for a total of 16 months, only letting them pay for food, gas, and household items — no paying for rent, utilities, or insurance. After that, we moved to a rented house with much the same arrangement, although since we rented a larger house to accommodate our office as well, I charged the business a portion of the rent and utilities. I didn’t object when, after my grandfather’s death, my grandmother moved in with us for seven months, despite the fact that this meant a lot of adjustment for all of us. And when we decided at the end of that time that the only sane solution was to move across the lake — putting us living near enough that we could support and assist my grandmother while she lives in her own home — I went along, keeping my car, my furniture, and my financial resources available to my parents.

I don’t regret these decisions, because I love my parents and want to support them and give back to them for all that they’ve given me. But as a result of these choices, I’ve become jealously guarded about how I spend my limited free time. There has to be some area of my life where I come first, where I do exactly what makes me happy and nothing else. I’m no longer willing to compromise as much as I was. And so recently, I find myself in conflict with people who are similarly focused, who are more concerned with what they want than what I want.

Are they being selfish by not listening to what I want or need, by ignoring my feelings for the sake of their own? Maybe. And maybe I’m being selfish as well. But at this stage of my life, I feel like I’ve earned a little selfishness; I’m due having a few people listen to what I want for a change. And I’m more than willing to let go of any relationship that is no longer meeting my needs. I have too many demands on me to spend energy on a relationship that takes more from me than it gives back.