Mostly, I haven't had anything to say. I mean, basically. It's been a low energy time, and almost everything I am putting out there, is going either into the teaching job or into the new relationship with M. I sometimes feel like I can step up to meet those aspects of my life, and other times like I am barely hanging on. Just that middle of winter, seasonal issue that is a part of February for me. M asked why it seems that February is always a difficult month for me and I honestly don't know. I mean, the simple answer is just that it's winter and I have mild, undiagnosed seasonal depression. But who knows? Maybe there is more to it than that.
I do know that a couple of low bottom drunk events have happened in February, including a night in Philadelphia with my domestic partner at the time that led to me going to rehab, and the DUI here in Culver City back in 2004, which was actually on my father's birthday, February 21. Or, I think I found the booking papers, and the arrest itself was Feb 20 and I was overnight in jail into the 21st. I can't really think of any other events per se. Maybe it also has to do with the school calendar, since February is a big let down in between months with holidays, or light at the end of tunnel. And then there's Valentine's Day, but, even when painful, I generally love that holiday.
I wrote this on Facebook a few years ago and it still rings true:
"I love love. I am not a proponent of the dark bitterness of some strains of contemporary life that belittles, ridicules and spews acidulous asperity in love's direction. I'm also way past the sappy, soggy sentimentality of treacly goop that spinelessly cloaks sex (with which there is nothing wrong) in manipulative shame-and-guilt infested Spielbergian romance. What has coalesced for me after decades of duplicitous love addiction, heating up and stirring of the drama pot, "heartbreak" that was actually about my look-good getting scratched or immolated, self-regard passing shabbily for solicitous concern for others and many other nefarious bad faith transactions, ill advised intrigues that were doomed by the same seed of dishonesty that initiated them, lies and more lies in order to get what I thought I wanted or to keep what I had or to get out of what I no longer wanted-- etc, etc, etc-- what has coalesced for me is that love is action in the world, not goop in the heart. Watch the movie with the sound off. That way I can see: am I behaving lovingly toward the people I say I love? Does it look like love? Are the people around me also, regardless of those pretty words falling from their mouths? Love is thoroughgoing honesty coupled with compassion and right-sized humility. Love isn't bounded by possession or control, nor is it safe and sound, nor is it a sanctuary for cowards, liars and the lazy. Nor is the demand for love fulfilled by some essentially materialistic fantasy for "someone to be with," nor can it be expected to provide my happiness if I just push the right lever. There are so many lesser forms of what looks like love in our culture that it's no wonder people are sick of the idea of it. But don't blame love for the lies we've told. Happy Valentine's Day, you beautiful open hearted or wounded bitter humans. If you keep doing each other the same way, you'll keep getting the same result."
Meanwhile, this past Valentine's Day was beautiful, if somewhat aching simply due to the distance spatially between me and M. I was impressed by the gift M had delivered—two beautiful ceramic plant pots from a struggling Black-owned business here in LA called Plant Provocateur. The gift showed thought, knowledge of me and my values, and my aesthetic, creativity, and that M is paying attention. I am still getting used to being seen. It has been a very long time. I had sent her some chocolates from one of my favorite chocolate places, Kakawa Chocolate House, in Santa Fe, and these were received with a combo of reverence and acknowledgment. I'm also still getting used to not being taken for granted. I'm getting a lot of perspective through this relationship, for sure.
We tumble toward each other this weekend, in beautiful scenic Blythe California, haha. Sort of halfway. I can't wait.
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