ah the tyranny of titles... this is a directionless post of no consequence to anyone. why title it?

The last few weeks and months have been an incredible mix of the rough and the smooth.
I don't know why I always use that tired metaphor. I hate sailing.
But now it's starting to catch up with me, I think. That always-tired feeling has nothing to do with the fact that I've been working on my thesis, and about a million other little things. Nothing to do with the fact that I've been sick, on and off, since this time last year (Nothing serious, but enough to chip away at my patience with myself. The story is rivetting, I assure you. But only to my doctor. Shall spare you.) Nothing, even, do with the all the emotional energy spent and retrieved, spent and retrieved, spent and... oh shit... gone!
Instead I think it has everything to do with the fact that after a while, up and down and up and down get, well, boring. The ups have been marvellous. The downs have been extremely valuable, and not half as bad as they would have been had they occured one, two, five years ago.
And I'm waaay grateful for both.
But the thing about it is that now, please, Universe, zara break do, please. Just a little more stability, over a lot more time, thanks very much! (I read somewhere that you should thank the Something before you get your wish, and then you're gauranteed to get it.)

I've realised a few things about myself over this period. Some of them I like, some I love, and some I plan to thumb my nose at in the hope that they will take offense and go away. (Haven't grown all that much, then. Glad we settled that.)

Things other people say during up-d0wn-down-up-UP!-down times have a special resonance as well. They tend to be especially sharp, or especially illuminating. During this phase I've had looong conversations with a range of different people. And as these conversations get deeper and more personal, I've come across a repeating pattern that I never encountered before:
Almost everyone has that One Wound. The hole around which they have shaped themselves as they healed, sealing their direction, until they reopen it (or fill it?) and heal themselves deeper.
These wounds shape the way they think about some things (or everything). They shape some (or all) of their reactions.
And I realised with a sharp sense of shock, every time a narration turned itself from 'them' to me: I don't have a single, short sharp shock that has shaped me. Yes, growing up scars you, sure. Am no exception. And like everyone else, a couple of incredibly traumatic things happened to me that really rocked my boat (again with the sailing. Buy me a boat, someone!). But I can't zero in on a single one that has shaped me. Not an event, a trauma, a sudden epiphany, a seperation, a loss.
Instead, the thing that's probably shaped me most profoundly is a sustained background tremor that has still (thank you, Universe), not shaped itself into a catastrophe: The vividly imagined future loss of my father. This has haunted me since I was roughly six. 20 years on, I realise that it's just as powerful a force as the singular shaping trauma or change. Mountains, after all, crumble under nothing more substantial than breeze and streams. It just takes a while. But that's slightly misleading - I'm not crumbling, just being shaped.
Here is what my fear has made me do:
- Live in terror for a long time, and then learn to breathe my way through it.
- Appreciate every single facet of every single moment, even the crap ones. Everything I can perceive and absorb. I don't particularly like that the driving idealogy is '...because you never know what tomorrow might bring...'. But hey. I am happy that at least I make a relentless effort to absorb.
- Listen, learn, imitate, listen some more, to everything my father says. He's a wise, wise man. I've always been scared that that source of precious wisdom will suddenly be cut off. And so I've tried to drink every drop that is thrown my way. Sometimes even asking pre-emptive questions about future important life events. His favourite is: 'If you're not here when I get pregnant, exactly which doctors are the good ones? Tell me their names and addresses.' (I asked this at age 10!) And: 'When Mama becomes old what is the best way to take care of her? Wait let me write it down' (Age 12). (My diary entry for this reads: "Asked Papa how to take care of Mama when she is old. He talks too fast for me to write it down. He said I should understand (her), be patient, and show her as much love as I can." (Got it, Dad, not to worry. Learnt by heart, see?!)

- Side by side, it's made me try to develop a backbone of my own. One day I will not be able to pick up the phone and howl 'Papa! He left me! My heart is broken!' I will have to pack my lunch and go to the office and fall apart and pick myself up and pack lunch again the next day. I am trying to figure out how to stand up by myself and stay standing, no matter what else happens, and just be grateful that I grew up in the shadow of a very, very mighty tree, but not a tree I can lean on forever.

And that's just a litle something I'm starting to uncover.
I don't like that the driving force of a lot of these very positive things has been fear, for so incredibly long.
I wish to let that go.
Now. Papa. Tell me how. And please, hold on I need to write it down.

Quiz

Love the picture! (As they predicted I would :P)

Your result for The 4-Variable IQ Test...

Visual

30% interpersonal, 35% visual, 15% verbal and 20% mathematical!

Your strongest type of intelligence is Visual. You thrive on spatial thinking, shapes, patterns, and form. You're unlikely to be blind. You can probably think in 3D very easily. You are very likely to be attractive, based on only my most rudimentary anecdotal evidence. And you are likely to appreciate a good body in a lover.

Your specific scores follow. On any axis, a score above 25% means you use that kind of thinking more than average, and a score below 25% means you use it less. It says nothing about cognitive skills, just your interest.

Your brain is roughly:

30% Interpersonal

35%Visual

15%Verbal

20%Mathematical

Matching Summary: Each of us has different tastes. Still, I offer the following advice to the world.

1. Don't date someone if your interpersonal percentages differ by more than 20%.

2. Don't be friends with someone if your verbal percentages differ by more than 25%.

3. Don't have sex with someone if their math percentage is over 50%.

Take The 4-Variable IQ Test at OkCupid

Weather, inside, weather outside.

... it is exactly 00:00 as I start to write this.
Is it today, tomorrow, or yesterday?

U2 is playing One Step Closer To Knowing. That song is my prayer, this week, this month, for the rest of my thesis. For the rest of my life?

Yesterday, I dreamt that something had happened - a volcano, a storm, a something big - and the sky was overcast and rusty red. Deep red and extremely heavy - like nothingness, as described by someone or the other.
Everyone was told to stay inside. My best friend was there, and the man, and my mother and father.
Suddenly, I had a mad impulse, and said, oh screw this! I'm going outside! And I stepped outside under the nothingness-sky, and looked up, and it started to rain gentle, star-bright, slow raindrops. I closed my eyes and smiled.
When I awoke, it was dawn, and the sky was overcast, and red, and I had nothing planned for the day. So I awoke the man, and we went outside, and stood in the park and closed our eyes as it rained gentle, star-bright, slow raindrops.

I opened my eyes, and didn't know whether I was dreaming the same dream again, awake, or still inside last night.

Back in the house now, and the sky is dark, and lightning is forking across the sky, and U2 is forking lightning through me as it throbs on my speakers.

FullStop

Dear __________,

Ever notice how conversation flows exceptionally smoothly when I focus on how's work-what did you buy today - ooh nice heels! -oooh show me your new bed! - aarrey yaaar, why don't you call him - arrey man, he's a jackass, and then just stops the second you say: So. How are you really?

I couldn't give a toss about the new bed, or the new boy in it.
The heels are great, but high as they are, you still look pretty low to me. Even online, even longdistance.

So why can't you just talk about what matters, and stop hiding behind boys and beds?
I probably can't fix it for you, but babu, neither can heels.

So.
Talk.

Amen

The fall that is really flight: That is what I have always looked for.
All it takes to remember that I already have it is to recall that the second I saw you, it felt like soaring, and all my walls came crashing down.

Don't make me rebuild them, na, please.

Cryptic, as always

Another note to self: A very wise woman said, "His interest, in other words, is very flattering but simply not sufficient reason to play."

Sigh.

In other words:
Wow, I love that someone I run into every day has a crush on me.
But in so many words, "His interest... is very flattering bit simply not suffficient reason to play."

Note to Self

Forget the context, write down the lesson:
I am a narcissist, searching only for my reflection to love.

Love as I picture it, Love with a capital L is therefore, at this time, beyond me.