Red Cedar

If my body was a house, I would be shuttering the windows right now, closing the doors around my heart and crawling under the quilts in the bedroom at the centre. This image is so present, as I detach myself day by day and slip inside to find the places where my anger has been nutured, and where no one else can touch it except for me. I want no consolation for this fester, I don’t want to be told it will all be over soon, I want no arm around my shoulder in my perfectly boarded up body.

This self-contained trauma belongs to no one else and in this I am self-righteous. This analytical outrage pores over documents until I litter the floor in shreds of paper. I am sick to the bottom of me when I read my life between the lines of these others, and howling when I come up for air.

And yet, I am comforted by these symptoms – relics of grief and process that will get me through the final few weeks of stress and allow me to become again with one more chapter completed. I revel in that hardness knowing that it will disappear as soon as it is no longer needed – I allow myself small leaks so I can stay unemotional when his jumpy voice comes over the line all hopped up on legal accusations and sentencing arguments.

It is certainly not the apocalypse that it once was; it is the last thing before the next. And the next will be a homecoming party in a not-so-distant future during which the doors will be unlocked and my windows opened wide.

Itching to get out of here – Ottawa, Oregon, anywhere – all just over the horizon and this stasis has got me down at the moment. Just 10 more days and a planeride and I’ll be east, three more weeks and a trainride and I’ll be south. Which direction will I be facing when I finally settle in myself again? The northward shift of my heart is doing me no good at the moment; perhaps west towards the islands and the sea is where I will find the release after a long winter, breaking my past out over the shore and allowing the salt water to curl my hair. Lying in the sand as the foaming current sucks the land from around me, leaving me afloat in the stars of phospheresence. Like this, caught between the dark night and the deep sea, among creatures giving their glow to predatory feasting, I am afloat in an empathic ancient ocean. As easily drowned as cradled as cocooned as lost.

A simple redirection and I would not be here at all.

I am trying to be zen about the fact that the lover who ended things with me in December so he could try having a “real relationship” (his words) is now married to a woman from rural Japan who he has spent only 2 weeks with in the past seven years. Yes, I know. This is not about me – it’s about him and his dysfunction. But somehow it still stings, and any respect I once had for him has completely gone out the window. Midlife crisis? Commitment issues? Communication problems? The Asian bride is certainly not an original solution, but it seems to work for lots of North American men.

Okay, so I’m nowhere near zen either. Obviously.

Thinking about this a bit further, this really is a sign that a) I’m glad I’m not him, b) I don’t want to be with someone like him and, c) I was right in breaking off contact with him in March – it meant I didn’t have to pretend to react nicely to this news when my friend shared it on the weekend.

And I’m not even going to go into the whole “why do I keep dating dysfunction?” rant. It’s so not worth it and we all know the answer anyway.

I haven’t been writing much of anything lately except the occassional erotic missive to a long-distance possibility, such has been the lack of interest in settling myself down in front of the computer in between meetings. I come to work, stare at the screen, eke out some minimal amount of content for my department’s web presence and then turn my attention to union cases and other demands instead. I am not sure why the words only flow some of the time, but they do and they haven’t been lately. Perhaps it’s just the lack of time for reflection as I muddle my way between work and the gym and social/artistic events and just keeping up with life. I think that because I am waiting on a number of things (Darren’s hearing, my new possible job to start, my return to Ottawa in May) I feel a bit stalled out workwise at the moment.

In any event, in the past week I have somehow managed to keep myself relatively intact through weekend union meetings (in Victoria), dinner with my parents, a memorial for a friend who passed away last month, seeing Derrick Jensen speak, and a labour council meeting last Tuesday. This week is only turning out to be more of the same with lovers returning to my life suddenly, some health appointments I finally booked, a reading and show by my friend Bronwyn and union meetings this weekend plus the CATS gathering which starts at my home on Friday night. Tonight, I have booked a date with myself alone at the QE to see the VOS staging of Tosca – an opera I have not seen before. It’s a good thing that next week is looking to have a relatively open schedule so I can catch my breath!

One thing that I have been increasingly focused on in the last 4 weeks is getting myself to the gym 4 or 5 days a week which I think has started to show some small results already (I can tell, I’m sure no one else can yet). I’m really working hard towards not only the trip at the end of this summer, but better shape overall and a cleaner internal system. I’m finally over the point where going to the gym makes me tired and it’s started to become my fuel instead. My real success measure at how well I am integrating this into my life is going to come when I’m on the road again from May to June – with the intention that I keep as much of a stable workout schedule as possible no matter where I am.

I am still waiting to hear about the possibility of the national project management gig but it *is* looking better every day and I will have an answer by the end of May at the latest. Also, I have pretty much decided to run for the position I’ve been talking about even though it’s still a year away! I haven’t told anyone in my union yet except a couple of close friends, but even doing that set the fears arising in me. Whoo. It’s going to be some kindof a ride if I make it all the way without some sort of event to upset the whole affair.

So there it is, me busy and pretty happy though a little unproductive at the moment. More in-depth writing to follow soon I’m sure.

It can’t really be so long since I have written here. It’s been a busy time and I’ve got lots to say when I find the time for posting. Stay tuned, friends! I am still very much alive and will find the space for writing shortly.