Jul 26

Don’t even think about it

Try to pose for yourself this task: not to think of a polar bear, and you will see that the cursed thing will come to mind every minute.
–F.Dostoyevsky

What’s the flip side to overthinking everything?
Trying not to think about a particular thing. Person. Event. Whatever. Dostoevsky called it. It is very hard to do. Or rather, not to do. Try not to think of polar bears, and your mind will be full of them.

The only thing that works to some extent is distraction.

So I went ice skating. I have ice skated before, but not for years. Decades, maybe. I used to go skating with a coworker in the early 90′s. Yikes. A long time ago.

It’s hard to think about things you don’t want to think about when you are concentrating on not falling and breaking a wrist. Or not crashing into a small child or getting crashed into by a little guy taking a hockey lesson.

It kept the polar bears away for a little while, it was a lot of fun, and it was a (literally) cool place to be on a hot day.

My knee has a bit of a bruise from my one dramatic wipeout, but no major damage. Maybe I should take a few lessons. That’d be fun, and then I’d also know how to stop!

What else might be a good polar bear remover?
–Spin classes. I need to find a spin studio nearby. Spinning is good for polar bear removal.
–Art. Maybe I should dig out my sketch pads or actually use some of the Lino blocks and make prints.
–Tattoos. Great for polar bear removal, but very expensive.
–Reading, but I already do that.
–Sleeping. Like I am about to do now.

No polar bears allowed.

Jul 25

Mood today? May need some fine tuning:

I am going to write something cheerful today if it kills me. Which, uh, is maybe not the right mood to approach it with.
–Me

On the other hand, after I ship a big box of shoes to Italy I am going to go ice skating.

Yeah, I am 50 fucking years old and I am wearing skull shoes and stripey socks. In public. Suck in, Fashion Police!

First, I have to get some coffee into me.

Does this count as cheerful?

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Jul 25

Don’t look back

I never, she never, we never looked back
That wasn’t what we were good at
And when it came to love
We were not good enough.
–Lumineers/Slow It Down

Not being good enough for love is something I think about a lot. Too much, probably. Like everything else I think about. Overthink about.

Love is more important than most of the things I obsess about, though. Maybe it’s because I had it at such a young age, or at such an impressionable age…but I know what I’m missing when I don’t have it. I know what it is, or at least what I think it is. (Not particularly confident about what I do and do not know tonight, it would seem)

And I figure there must be something that I do wrong. There’s this wonderful thing, and I blow it. Or it would be there if I did more or less of something. If I was thinner or more charming or athletic. If I could make small talk. Or any talk at all. If I could be less needy or less independent. If I could be better at..whatever it is..then I wouldn’t have to hear that it’s not me, it’s him. Logically, of course, I know that is wrong.

Particularly because I think I’ve done something wrong whether it’s me who doesn’t love someone or if someone doesn’t love me. Either way. My fault. Because if I don’t love someone who is a perfectly wonderful person, it must be me. Something wrong with me. Some flaw that rejects love unless it isn’t returned.

Which is…it just makes me…
Ugh.
Crazy.

Although it is also kind of, possibly, true. Partially, anyway.

Normally there are at least two sides to every story, and even in the most obviously bad scenario there is something not working on both sides. Not necessarily wrong with me or them but that just doesn’t work when we get put together. Anyone older than 20 has probably been there, in the “it’s not you it’s me” zone. I’ve been on both sides of it. It sucks.

I think I might be on both sides of it now.

I think I might always be. There’s a happy thought.

The thing that is so tricky is that many of us are at cross purposes. We do things convinced of what someone thinks or feels and we may be wrong about it. We tell each other what we think we want or need to hear, all based on thoughts and feelings that might be wrong. How often would just being open about what we’re thinking make it better?

Sure, sometimes it would be awkward or hard. Sometimes it would result in hurt feelings. But not saying things does too.

In the zone I am in right now, it’s kind of a no win.
Positivity is there but it has been a little hard to maintain in the last few days.

It’ll be back.
No, I am not about to burst into a rousing version of “Tomorrow” from the musical “Annie.”

I am just trying to not look back or forward but be where I am and in the present. And smile.

Maybe tomorrow I will go ice skating. It’s hard to be mopey when you’re breaking your wrists falling down on the ice!

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