I wasn’t going to post anything tonight/this morning (it’s midnight here in Memphis). Actually, I started a post around dinner time, and decided against it.
Wanna hear the story about the military blogger who was great at writing drafts? He was fired for abandoning his post….. I came up with that one all on my own – you’re welcome.
Actually, I needed to crack myself up a little bit. The reason I decided to write at midnight was that just as I was getting in to bed, I was overcome with a heavy sadness. I had been petting Nick, and his side/flank felt hard. It might just have been his ribs and the way he was stretched out, but I started to think the worst. He seems fine… sleepy, lovable, and sometimes annoying – but so did Paris the day she died. Remembering that also made me really sad – she was such a sweet princess of a cat. Thinking about losing my buddy means not falling asleep easily – and probably means a disturbing dream later.
The post I was working on earlier was a response/clarification to the soggy roll of a post that I wrote last night. Usually after I write a post like that, one in which I re-examine, I feel a sense of regret for going there. It’ll sit with me for a day or two. Did I really get at what I was trying to say, was I fair in my assessment? Specifically, I was thinking about about the statement of focusing my attention on someone else and the difficulty I’ve had in getting there. I’ve suggested numerous times that other people draw things out of us. I’ve been in relationships or dating situations where the other person didn’t capture my attention and didn’t draw much out of me. It’s not something that can be forced, and you recognize it and feel it right away. When it’s good, there is an effortlessness to the banter and a natural connection. In all of my time dating after my divorce and before my ex-fiancee, B, it had only happened once. I had a few periods when I was dating a lot where it seemed like I was just on this frenzied pace of meeting people. I might have gone out with two or three different people in a week. I wasn’t trying to play the field, but I was pretty determined to find what I was looking for. Now, if it doesn’t feel natural or I don’t feel like I’m ready, I back away from the whole thing and go back to just browsing and not talking. Since B, I’ve been very careful to make sure I’m not trying to fill a void – or if I am, it’s not with other people. Her boyfriend/ex-boyfriend said he felt like she was just trying to fill a void with him… I’ve had to consider that I may have been the same thing to her. I think it’s natural to try to fill the void. Some people choose religion or refocus on their job, or learning something new. Others focus on trying to get back what they had. As I look at these dating profiles, I can feel the tug of trying to get back what I had, and I don’t want to do that to someone else.
I took a long walk before dinner. I made it a point to be present on my walk, to take in the sights of the city and the people. In doing so, the world around me was lit up in tiny vignettes. I tried to capture as many of them as I could… walking and typing on my phone. A sentence about a dog and his droopy, meaty head, another sentence about the smell of honeysuckle. I’ll try to pull them together and elaborate on them later. As I walked, it felt like I couldn’t not pay attention. It felt like I was writing a poem for how the world stopped (yet with so much activity), how everyone paused and became more attentive. Feeling this way made me think that maybe in the absence of work and the the absence of a partner, I have no choice but to turn my gaze on the world. To pay attention to the what’s going on – both internally and externally. The effect of writing and practicing has been the cultivation of an internal monologue. Before, I might have sat down and waited for something to write about, hoped for an idea, strained under the weight of the blank screen. Now it’s as if a barrier has been broken down and I can’t not think about what I see and how it makes me feel or come up with some story… a man and his daughter playing soccer in the park, another man and his wife outside grilling, the runner struggling to get up the hill that I hate. I find myself taking it all in. And then I wonder, how will this change when I become preoccupied with the rest of life (a job, a partner)? I certainly won’t have the time for all of this daydreaming… will I have the energy? Is it possible that we can only focus our attention on a handful of things after which we need to recharge? Will I find balance? Attention is one of the greatest gifts we can give. More and more, I’m realizing the care that I’d like to take in choosing where to give it. That’s not to say that I think there are people or tasks or experience that aren’t worthy – I think just about everything is worthy of attention, care, and consideration, but until I can expand my capacity, I have to exercise choice.