I’m not sure I’m up to writing tonight. I’ve been sitting at the computer since I got home… not really doing a whole lot of writing. I decided instead, I’d post a mish-mash of photos and links, and quotes and videos…. These are the things going through me and my head lately. Starting with Nick….
My Friend Stephanie from New Hope posts a lot of memes, like 10 a day. They’re usually pretty funny, or else they’re about depression…
Today, my friend Stacy and I walked around the Cooper-Young neighborhood – an area where I’m thinking of buying a house (cool neighborhood with good restaurants, a book shop, coffee shops, bars, etc.). I had a great oyster po boy at a place called The Beauty Shop. We ran in to the really nice lesbian couple I’ve mentioned and when the one said, of course hugs… I realized I had been wearing my goofy hugz t-shirt all day. It might explain why the realtor at the open house might not have taken me seriously…. That and the fact that I said I can’t even figure out how to pay my rent (I meant using their online system, not financially).
Not too long ago I read a good article on modern therapy. I am, for the most part a fan of being in the moment, and leaving toxic situations, but when it comes to patterns of behaviors, I think getting at the root of the issue is helpful. I’ve discovered things about myself (why I’m anxious about certain things) by deeper examination of my past…. and I have my challenges with CBT. At its worst, I think it can lead to a sort of nihilism – a life without accountability – if you don’t like the circumstances, just change them.
The most incendiary charge against cognitive approaches, from the torchbearers of psychoanalysis, is that they might actually make things worse: that finding ways to manage your depressed or anxious thoughts, for example, may simply postpone the point at which you’re driven to take the plunge into self-understanding and lasting change.
The full article can be found here. Elsewhere in this blog, I think I referenced this article on the challenges of positive psychology…. Both are worth a read.
I’m working on a poem either called “Little Things” (after the Wild Child song “Silly Things“) or “The Weight of What Gets Left Behind.” It’s about the little things like coffee pots or putting your contacts in in the morning that remind you of a routine you used to have (for me leaving my fiancee’s place at the crack of dawn every morning giving her a kiss goodbye and writing her note for when she woke up). It’s also about the physical things left behind. In this picture alone are the rug, the shoe bench, and the big plant – all things B left for me because she knew I liked them. They all have a story in my world. I don’t think she took anything with her that would remind her of me.
I discovered a new song that is growing on me.
I’m still working my way through Veronica… I’m slow, and nights out drinking and listening to music don’t help. I came across more quotes that just seemed good or relevant (these are not one long narrative – they’re from different sections):
“I understand now why you loved him,” she said. “You do?” “Yes. He was willing to go places most people won’t go. He was looking at himself, you know. Most people won’t do that.”
But I didn’t know the gentleness of her eyes. They were like windows in a prison cell—
I look outside and see a little budding tree, its slim black body shining with rain. Joyous and intelligent, like a fresh girl, the earth all new to its slender, seeking roots. I think of Trisha, erect and seeking with sparkling eyes. A fleshy nimble tree, laughing as it discovers the dirt. Stretching up its limbs to tell the sky what it’s found.
She was right: Alain did go where most people wouldn’t, though not because he willed it. He couldn’t help it. The storm of movement was in him all the time. He lived in pieces, jumping from one falling meteor to the next, and going wherever it went. Of course, everybody has different directions in them. I saw three in my mother when Daphne and I met her in the family diner, and she had more than that. But she was not quick or flexible enough to jump from one to another. Even just to feel three at once made her awkward and confused. She didn’t have the strength to hold that much opposition in one place.
I was out last week when I heard a co-worker say “my shitty ex had a 55 Chevy” sounds like a line or title for a poem.
When I sit at the compute to write, I see these things in front of me. The first is some reproduced art on canvas (the three on the left are by Mark Sandman of Morphine the bigger one is by Dana Colley, also from Morphine). Below the art is the wooden plaque my mom gave me and my ex-fiancee, B, when we got engaged – I believe in the love rules (you’ll have to zoom in if you can). She and I kept quite a few of them (Kiss good morning, kiss goodnight, hold hands, say I love you, be kind, have fun, etc.) The other picture is the small pile of rocks and wood that became the inspiration for my poems “Of Rock and Wood” and “This is Our Shore.”
The other day I was writing about not having heroes and villains in my story. I may be upset with my ex-friend, Jen, but I try not to see her as a villain. B left me, which hurt, yet I can’t see her as anything other than the beautiful person I fell in love with. I came across this clipping – a good reminder that I don’t have any say in the role I play in someone else’s story. This blog is just my version of the story. Perception is reality.
Another friend posted this poem on Facebook. I like it because… home.
And I’ll close with a couple of Michael Kiwanuka videos and a North Mississippi Allstars video. My daughter, Carolyn, and I are going to see Kiwanuka in Nashville on Valentine’s Day (I wish he were playing here – I have him on heavy rotation). I bought the tickets before I moved here, bought three thinking by then I might have a special friend to take with me. I didn’t realize I would have no interest in meeting a special friend. I still have a little bit of time before the show. I do have to book a hotel (don’t think I want to do the 3 hour drive back after the show).