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.

even better

Coffee shop got some rugs.

really high anxiety level today

I took today off from the new ridiculous job I've got, thinking that I needed a day to wade through email and other errand-y type stuff, and I'm struck by how just one week of TCOB and relative inattention to my own mental health has left me feeling pretty seriously jacked up.

I thought I was getting better, but I'm really conscious this morning of how much I need to slow the fuck down if I'm going to ever get for real back to feeling like myself.  It's frustrating.

duet

I woke up this morning remembering this one time that I was in the car with Johnny driving up 57 singing this song together.



That's a good memory.  

Yeah.

I think of this post by my friend Walt often, particularly these lines, particularly lately:

Wilson-Hartgrove says that, of course, there will be times when we are called to move on. But we should not easily leave. And where we find ourselves, we should be building community, and this takes time. Wilson-Hartgrove tells a story of a man complaining to his pastor that, after a year in a church, he wasn’t experiencing much community. The pastor asked how long he had been there. “About a year.” “Then I guess you’ve got about a year’s worth of community. Stay another year and you’ll have two years’ worth. Stay thirty and you might find some of what you’re looking for.”