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Ron sometimes does this "That's bad --> That's good --> That's bad --> That's good" story thingie at the beginning of his teachings.  (e.g. He fell off the roof; that's bad.  There was a haystack below; that's good.  There was a spike in the haystack; that's bad.  He missed it; that's good.)

That's how my birthday was last week.

I've been feeling really low lately.  I'm lonely, and I'm sad.  I've been spending most of my non-working time at home in my room with the door closed, mostly sleeping.  It's not a great way to deepen the relationships I've started since coming here.  I didn't have anyone to do anything with, not anyone that wouldn't, though I may really like them, make me feel exhausted.  I had a deep, loud cry that morning.

In the afternoon, I went on a gorgeous, hope restoring hike.  As I started it, I got a promising email about a job I've applied for.

When I got home, some of the crappiness had settled back in, and I had to take a nap.

I got up and made an appointment to quick go over to the shiatsu place and get a massage.  After that, I met Neil and Jarlath for a drink and a burger.  I wore my favorite baggy-ass ripped jeans and a new shirt I found at Goodwill that's an exact copy of a shirt my old principal had that I was jealous of.

When I got home, the sad was back.

purposed

“So, just so you know, this is a purposed thing we’re doing.”

That’s the last thing B, my colleague who is incarcerated, said to me last week as we got to the top of the yard – the point where I keep going up the hill and he veers off toward the cellblocks. 

When he started our program in 2009, he told me, he’d brought his written proposal to the chaplain and asked her to pray over it with him. 

research project

As I've taken up writing on here anew, I've also been better about writing in my journal-thingie.  And that's a good thing because I bought it a couple of years ago, a fancy Moleskine one, and it'd been a damn shame that I wasn't filling it up and getting my money's worth.

I bought it when I started this research project about romantic relationships and what they mean for the self -- the past, present, and future self.  In particular, I was trying to figure out what they meant for my feminist self.  I interviewed my Mom, some of my best friends, a couple of women from church.  And I got some good stuff.  Originally, I had a plan for writing up the project, but ultimately, I guess I just came to some insights that I was needing and then that was done.

Seemingly abrupt shift: A few years ago, Rachel told me that a cantor had once described faith in God to her as "feeling lucky all the time."  That resonated with me, and I've thought about it a lot since.

I've been feeling tentatively better the last couple of weeks, and part of it, I'm sure, has been that I've felt really lucky several times.  It's made me feel held, protected.  I'd like to be better at nurturing that sense of gratitude as a way of staving off the intense despair that's marked the last several months for me.

I'm thinking about taking up another "research project."  This time, I'm thinking of asking folks ahead of time to come up with a list of ten or so things (people, experiences, whatever) in their lives that make them feel lucky.  (And nothing cliche.  You can't say "family" because, duh, boring.  Gotta be specific.)  A gratitude survey.  And then I want to chat with them about their list, take my dorky notes in my Moleskine.  Think about what they say so much.

First I'll write my own list to see what that's like, and then, I'll get started.