The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Adaptation

"Invalid Entry" 

If only I could stop the thoughts, look at a tree and think of not how I'd define it, but just take it in, feel the limbs without thinking that they're limbs, let my eyes smooth along the ridges of the bark without thinking 'hey, that's bark'. They say it's possible to do this. They say some people can do it, 'be' without words. This is frustrating to me-F R U S T R A T I N G- because I see in words, letters. I do not perceive without language. I cannot stop it. I have no idea how to be still, how to let life happen. I sit for a moment, I try to feel myself inside and all I hear are the labels I've become accustomed to identifying with: lazy, ridiculous, odd, panic disorder sufferer, crippled with anxiety, goalless, nervous, searching, 'what's she up to now?', desperate, flaky...I am certain that those who find moments of quiet, perfect wordlessness are essentially free from doubt. They can withdraw from the insanity of this world and let it bloom again within, making it their own. No streams of consciousness. Only ponds that reflect the sun they've captured in tiny diamond shapes, making no sound, just rippling with fluid, unwordy consciousness around the edges.

I made a decision yesterday that I'd like to be a counsellor. It was that easy, a moment of 'aha' if you will. I want to talk to people, and help them move away from all the damage that others do to them. It is not just a matter of altruism, I've never been that good. Anyone who reads me knows I am someone who enjoys discussion and tethering ideas together in endless sentences and intimidating paragraphs. I like to talk. Also, the pay would be good. So, yes, I feel it's what I'm sort of suited for, but what now? I see it going two ways: 1)I do something about it and go for it, and 2) I settle for having had the epiphany and take it no further. I usually opt for the latter. If it were simply a matter of want I'd do it, but you see, I'm one of the damaged ones. I believe I will fail at this point, and that my position as co-bread-winner in a family of three will make it impossible for me to pursue it. I am worried about having anxiety attack after anxiety attack, thus rendering me depressed and weepy, unable to leave the house without throwing a cosmic fit. This would be a hindrance in the world of social welfare/psychology. I can see someone who is desperately in need of consolation looking at me as I am quivering and battling some sort of existential demon, falling deeper into their own madness. This would not be ideal.

Oh, it's all well and good to tell myself I deserve to do it. Most days I agree with that, but there are the moments of doubt which are more powerful than my good intention. Also, I like to feel financially secure and right now, school would not allow me to feel that, and it would drive M. crazy. He thinks himself supportive but it really means he supports me 'spiritually, emotionally'. Monetarily is not part of the bargain. So, if I go to the information session today at the employment centre, I might be able to learn about a way in which I can pursue a goal without too much trouble. Maybe there are no catches, no glitches, for once. What if I just 'do' instead of think? Is that possible? What if I try to clear my head and only let in the 'beingness' of life?

*Ahem*

My soul feels bigger than I thought it would. I am typing with my eyes closed again. I do that. I am hearing my breath moving in and hout of me. I just sniffed. Isn't that cold done yet? Okay, focus...If I go to school, there's no guarantee I'll stick it out. I have done the university courses and I let it go in the end, so that I could work, so that I could start my future immediately. What if I become intolerable? Weak? Miserable? M. would leave me, wouldn't he? What if I have to spend a few years feeling poor, eating spaghetti for dinner every night? I'm never getting married, am I? He seems to be waiting for me to consent to going to France, which is where I assume he intends to propose, somehow thinking he can't propose to me here where I am comfortable. Oh, I want to go to France, but it's the fear, the dread which makes it clear to me that it would be a mistake. I'd go insane. Of course I would! Doesn't he love me? What's so bad about me? I am so glad I watched that new show 'The United States of Tara'. Good name for a show. Love Toni Collette. I laughed when it was on and was angry it was only a half hour in length. Focus, focus...Michelle Obama's inaugural ball dress looked like one of those toilet paper dresses you make at a wedding shower. My stomach is off at the moment, probably because I know I am working up to going to that seminar today. I haven't really done anything like that in years. It shouldn't be a big deal, but for me it's huge. Oh, I want money. Not tons, just enough so that if I want to buy a new sweater, I could do it without worrying how I could have bought groceries instead. I need money. I should stop being so shy and email that mom from Kitty Kat's class and see if she'd like to have coffee with me. I hate socializing in the beginning. I hate being rejected, excluded. I'm not interesting until you get to know me, but hardly anyone bothers. How do people see me? Does it matter? Of course it does. As much as we like to pretend it doesn't, it does. I'm reading the Maya Angelou book, 'Letters to my Daughter'. If only I could be as wise as she is. Why wasn't she at the inauguration? Why didn't she read a poem? It would have been heads and shoulders above the one read by that nervous, robotic woman they selected instead. Am I good writer? Why is it so hard to get published? I have nothing to measure myself against. I have no idea if I'm any good. Does it matter? Why do I care if I get published? What's it mean in the end? It's validation, though, isn't it? I'm a validation whore. I need it because I seldom feel it, and it gets me high when it occasionally shoots through me. I want to feel it again. I need to feel as though I matter, at least, to me. I want new doors for the bedrooms, and I want new clothes. Oh, here we go with the 'I want'. Childish, isn't it? Focus! There are undulating waves of colour in my vision, sort of like the snow on a television screen that hisses and crackles when the cable goes out. How do I shovel through it and get to the peace? The understanding? I can't do this. I cannot clear the thoughts. I cannot sit still. I need to eat breakfast. I need to calm myself in order to calm myself.

My eyes are watering.