Loving More

I went to an interesting meeting last night, a Loving More Poly Group has a pot luck on the second Thursday of every month. There are a few people who show up regularly and a large rotating cast of occasional members. This was only my second time there but it is such a nice, safe, caring place that I went last night even though my boyfriend couldn't go and I hitched a ride over with another couple.

After the pot luck part [I took a ravishingly tasty Mexican Bean and Corn Salad that was very well received, thenkyewverramuch ;-) ], we gathered into a circle, introduced all around, and the evening's moderator pulled a topic from the introductions for discussion.

Jealousy -- how do you deal with your own, and what do you owe to a partner who is experiencing jealousy? There was a lot of discussion about jealousy vs envy (your partner and his/her lover are having a good time without you and you are ... envious or jealous?) How does jealousy make you feel about yourself and your relationship? What sorts of mechanisms do you use to avoid or recover from jealousy/envy?

Dealing with a partner who is jealous seemed to be a harder thing to do than dealing with one's own. We all seem to want to *fix* it -- make them feel better, avoid activities that make them feel jealous. The consensus eventually was that we need to acknowledge our partner's feelings but that ultimately everyone is responsible for their own feelings. By *fixing* or by tiptoeing around so they can avoid feeling jealous, we are not treating them like equals and adults. By trying to take ownership of their jealousy, we are instead patronizing as well as stifling their growth.

graduation day

Tomorrow is graduation day. Really. Tomorrow I will get an A.S. degree and be a graduated Veterinary Technician. Of course that doesn't mean much since the certification exam is what counts. But still, it an accomplishment. At least that's what all my friends and family keep telling me :-).

Raise a glass to me!

sounds sadder than I feel, actually

Lyrics from a song by Gaelic Storm --

Walk Through My Door

Sitting on my hotel bed
Pay per view running through my head
Foreign film called “missing you”
Based on a story that’s true

Trade my soul at the mini bar
Ten dollar scotch and a cheap cigar
I can’t go forward, I can’t rewind
You’re on every channel on my mind

Chorus:
Why don’t you walk through my door
Walk through my door
Why don’t you walk through my door
Walk through my door

Outside a storm pours down
Inside my head begins to drown
One more should see me through
One more or maybe two

Now you’re just an after glow
A fading breath on a cold window
My face pressed against the pane
Tell me are those tears or are they rain

Chorus

Slide the lock and close my eyes
Hide behind this thin disguise
Turn to kiss myself goodnight
Turn out the light

The don’t disturb sign from my door
Is hanging on my heart once more
I set the clock to half past ten
And my head to never again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Any ideas why I am telling my life through other people's lyrics these days? Has the well dried up? Must try to write again, for real.

choices

In one of her recent songs, Melissa Etheridge has the lines --
"I made every choice along the way,
Each day I stayed in hell, I chose to stay."

At first that made me sad-angry-confused when I applied it to my recent sojourn in hell. How could I say I had chosen to stay in an abusive, loveless marriage? What? No way! But only when I actually owned up to myself that, yes, I had made that choice, every day, was I able to move beyond the paralysis and into my new life.

I chose to stay because: it was easier than arguing; it was safer than trying to support myself and my children without him; the material things he provided made my life very comfortable. When I eventually chose to step away from all that, it was because: my self had become a stranger to me; a diamond tennis bracelet or a trip abroad was not enough to erase the bruised arm or the bruised ego; because I was giving my children the wrong role model.

I made every choice along the way, including the last one. If I want to take credit for and be proud of the choice to make a new life for myself, I have to also take credit for and acknowledge the choices before that.

comments on friends and lovers

I agree, Naturist, that we have to let our friends take their own paths. I only hope that this diversion is necessary and not just some imagined difficulty he is having. So ... must trust friends and lovers that they know their own minds. Perfect Love and Perfect Trust is a witch's mantra that I find very difficult to practice sometimes. The Love part is easy.

And thank you dear Annie Mouse [ ;-) ] for your comment. It must be even more difficult for you to have contact without contact. Your phrase "passing through" is a help though -- we are all passing through stuff and this is just more "stuff" but there is another side to reach.

friends and lovers

A couple of weeks ago I lost a friend and a lover. I miss him terribly; I start to talk to him ten times a day and then remember he isn't there, he isn't listening. Still I talk to him, inside my head, but there is no answer, no wise crack, no measured thought, no quip, no flirt, nothing and I miss him so very much. There isn't even the hope that he'll come back someday because I don't know what time scale he works on any more. "I don't know what else to do, my love. So I'm going to step outside of your life for a short while."

Close to Fine

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it,
I'm crawling on your shore.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
I went in seeking clarity.

We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine

~Indigo Girls