There is something stirring, something stirred up about how I feel lately. I know that age and meds are both wielding wooden spoons upon the emotional contents of my cauldron. I wish there were some way, tho, to sort out the sources of my sporadically savage reactions to the minutia of my life. I was able, in the past, to do a bit of sleuthing and identify which of my angry eruptions were based on real affront and which on the flashbacks from previous wars, but that was pre-med, as it were. Now I feel as though I have a kind of emotional ADD, an inability to focus on what I feel long enough to sort it out. Granted, I no longer spend lots of time planning my disappearance, but at the same time, I am made painfully uncomfortable at the idea of directing anger or other negative emotions at anyone but myself.
Sorry for all the whining, but I can’t seem to handle myself today, nor can I handle anyone else. I desperately want a small hut, or even a box, somewhere near a clear stream and between trees, with lots of blankets and a stack of books and crickets and birds and a breeze.
Ok, kids. Tomorrow, Smoo goes for her behind-the-wheel exam. I think she will do swimmingly, but she is a bit nervous. I am looking forward to her being able to drive, as it will inevitably mean less driving for me. I have always hated driving, and didn’t get my license until I was in my second semester at SDSU. This confounds Smoo, who has been chomping at the bit to drive since she first was able to identify her dream car — a 196N Mustang — at about 3 or 4 (as Adam can attest). At any rate, please think good thoughts for us tomorrow. I will be passing on the results if she passes, but not otherwise, as she has asked for silence in the minute chance of her needing to re-take the test, so crushed will she be.
I would love to have an artist come to my home right now and do a painting of the current living room setting. The only light comes from the hanging lights over the kitchen table and the three open laptops, one on each of our laps: D and Smoo on the sectional, and me in my reclining rocker. It sounds hopelessly geeky, perhaps, especially when I add that the last sound to be heard was a song about “very mild super-powers” coming from D’s laptop. It is warm and beautiful to me, tho. The dogs are each in their spots: Elvis, the hairiest and hottest is on the concrete floor at my feet, Hanna is in a ball between D and Smoo, and ChaCha is using Smoo’s knee as a pillow. I love this clickety-silence, this collection of glow-lit faces.
Just before I began writing this, however, ChaCha had been at Smoo’s feet, and because Smoo knows that she growlingly hates to be bothered when asleep, Smoo moved her feet further away. The attempt at deference was met, unfortunately, by ChaCha wobbling to her feet and making a surly noise. She stood next to Smoo for a good minute or two before making circles and settling onto the sofa once more, and I couldn’t help but laugh out of both humor and sympathy, having felt, more times than I’d like to admit, how she seemed to feel. So precarious is our balance upon the tightrope of comfort and sanity that any change, any nudge — well-meant or otherwise — can throw us, ChaCha and I.
I wasn’t sure I was going to love ChaCha the way I love my more doggy dogs. She came with so much baggage, and was in such poor shape. Now I love her to bits, but she is still and odd duck, much less doggy than any other dog I’ve had. I think I might love her the way I love Japan: because it is unlike what I was raised knowing, because of the mind-fuck, because of the surreality that, like the best Python skits, forces you to make the decision to either be upset or laugh.
I need to do this to help out the healthy monkeys, so that they may win in their battle against the stupid ones. I am posting it in public because in public is also where I have the hardest time being nice to myself. Here is me, trying:
- I am a good mother. I worked hard to raise an independent, strong child. My methods do not match the traditional methods in many ways, and no doubt Dobson and his ilk would disapprove. Even at a young age, she was allowed to have opinions on things such as clothing, make-up, meals… When I made food she didn’t like, she was welcome to have something else of her own preparation, which was, more often than not, the ramen/mac-n-cheese/soup/granola bars/other current favorite that she requested — by case — from the store. :) I give her explanations for things rather than simple “No” answers, and allow her to question them, and even though the answers have not always been satisfying to her, she has learned to advocate for herself and to make informed, healthy decisions. It has been a pleasure watching her develop her own style, develop as a person: she is a beautiful woman, a smart one, a kind one, and above all that and unlike her mother, she is a strong one. I am trying to become strong like her.
– As far as relationships in general? I love with my whole heart. I have learned to look for signs of love in whatever form they take. I honestly feel it a privilege to have the love and friendship of my friends and family, and I do my best to show them such, in my fashion. I may be tardy on occasion, but in that, there is a love for my husband, much as there is his love for me in every trip he makes to bring forgotten items to me and my daughter. We are a strong and mutually supportive unit, and I am grateful. I do not betray strict confidences. While I occasionally fail to meet a planned goal, I am very careful not to use the phrase “I promise” unless I can be sure of coming through. I apologize when I fail (and then some, according to my daughter, who thinks I apologize too much). I value my family and friends more than I do the law (while still maintaining my moral code), and will do whatever I can to help them when they are in dire straits.
– I am a smart person. I may not be a genius, but I have the mix of skills and talents that I have, and I am working on not denying them, and accepting praise when it is given. I can write poetry (in form), sing, play instruments, develop websites, do arts-n-crafts, inspire conversation, speak and write Japanese, learn languages, and take part in education with a passion to both absorb and assist. I am useful and funny and kind. I am tender-hearted and open-minded and passionate when it comes to speaking out for the down-trodden. I am supportive of causes I believe in. I refuse to slow down. I will not let my monkeys beat me.
All that was hard for me, but not as hard as it has been. Slowly but surely, a work in progress. Some day, I will develop a carapace of some strength and will kick out all the crappy monkeys. Until then, thank you for being there. :)
