unconditional love.

I felt like one finger typing again and had something to say. I’m at the pool. I’m not IN the pool. Just at it, watching my little extrovert make friends. 

I’ve started work. I cannot stress enough how much I enjoy working for this new school, with these new people. I miss my old people immensely. But this new school and district is just where I needed to be. I find the Universe does this a lot…sends you little messages, quiet notes, that it is time to go. Time to stretch your wings. Time to grow. If you ignore the nudges, eventually the Universe will either whack you over the head with a brick you cannot ignore, and/or It will just pick you up and drag you kicking and screaming. It knows where you need to be, what you need to do, whether you see eye-to-eye with it or not. 

I want to note that the Universe, consistently, has to whack me over the head AND drag me, kicking and screaming. I promise I’m It’s most challenging human. Well. Other than Trump I am. 

I’m almost done with Amanda Palmer’s book The Art of Asking. I can tell this book will probably join ranks with Liz Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love as one of the books that transformed my life, giving me constant soul goals to work on and towards. 

This section about unconditional love. Can we talk about it for a minute? Because I’m exceptionally bad at this. I have high expectations for myself when it comes to other people. But I expect as good as I give. I think “my family/work/fill in your own here is making it hard for me” excuses are lame, because I too experience work and personal stress yet if you matter to me somehow I do manage to find the time. When someone uses that excuse on me, I immediately know: I don’t matter to you like you do to me. And thus commences the judging. And oh, Internet. I am so good at this. 

I have anxiety and abandonment issues. I flee, so you can’t hurt me. Or I flee because you keep hurting me. If you don’t come back, I’ll lash out at you in magnificent ways and I know how to be mean. Words are my jam. In person, I’ll cry on you and love you immensely…because you are in front of me and I can smell you and touch you and look in your eyes. But then I’m alone again and it all doesn’t seem very real. You know? Amanda Palmer says all of us, every human being, just wants to be seen (which I think is another way of saying understood, known). And I think so too. 

I am prone to jealous rages, especially when I feel in competition with someone else. I rarely like to compete, but when I need to…oh lord help us. 

I am a ball of insecurity when it comes to love…I dole it out freely, but when it isn’t returned as expected, I am ugly, Internet. I am ugly. 

And angry. But I don’t feel like talking about that tonight. 

What I also wanted to say was that I’m giving myself August and possibly much of September to acclimate to a new school, a new school year. And then I think I may start to create again. I did not say write–I said “create.” But maybe writing will be part of it. I have a Patreon idea, and I credit the beautiful Amanda Palmer for it. (Who also said you’re welcome to me when I thanked her for some words I needed to hear in an interview she did the other day…she and I are similar in many respects, I think after reading her book, except she is more outgoing and accepting/non-judgmental than I am. But when she did that, it felt like a warm hug…just like when her husband Neil Gaiman talked to me on Twitter. They are kind people, Amanda and her Neil.) 

So that’s where my brain is at these days, and I’m stopping here because my phone is about to die. 

This is picture of chickens and ducks with a disco ball. Everyone needs a disco ball in their house.