Happy Birthday

I'm standing outside and the sound of rain envelopes me, and that's the way I like it. It's dark out and the trees create a cover so somehow I'm not getting wet. I think I smell cigarettes nearby.
It's late, I'm tired and my body needs rest. But my brain is on high alert. It's hard talking to people all the time. I need a break.

I'm thinking about leaving. I think about that a lot these days. That seems to be the theme of my life. Things go well and then they don't anymore and then I just want to leave. Only this time, I'm actually doing it.

I can't say for sure where I'm going and I don't know how long I'll be gone.

Sometimes I wish I didn't feel so alone.

But I look up at the sky and it's not black and it's not invisible. Without the city lights and sounds the sky is indigo blue, it has a color. Who knew.

The trees create a clearing and I can see the sky. Tilt my head up and I see the outlines of the trees etched out as a boarder.

I breathe in the country air. This is the place for me.

27 years ago a soul fell down from heaven and chose to enter me. It's a hard journey. It really is.

I wish I had a projector and could run slides of all my years. I wish I could remember it all. It's a wonder I remember anything at all.

I don't know what this year will hold. I wish I could say. I wish I had a plan, a goal, a dream. I wish I could glimpse into the future. But what would be the fun in knowing?

I guess in some way this trip is a gift to myself. It's better to look at it like that then saying that I'm running away. Because I don't think I can run anymore. I'm tired. It's exhausting. I want to settle down. I don't want to avoid life anymore.

I need to dim my phone so I can see the blackness, the beauty of the night sky. Isn't that what life is all about? Tuning out so we can appreciate what's really important in life.

I'm making this up as I go. Maybe you can tell. Don't take my word for it. I'm clueless.

Happy birthday to me and a good year for all.

Self Discovery

I'm scared and nervous.
I'm doing this.
I don't want to.
Don't make me go.
But no one's making me, are they.
I want to go.
It's exciting.
But I'm scared of being alone.
Out there in the world
All alone.
I'm never really alone am I.
Why am I doing this again.
Because I have to.
But why.
Why
Why
Why.
I'm turning 27 this week and I don't understand why some people have their lives all sorted out
And I'm quitting my boring job to go traipsing across the world.
I want to make it sound exciting.
I know some people will be jealous.
They wish they could do it too.
That's not my intentions.
I just want to feel a little less lonely
A little less confused.
I don't know when I'm coming back.
I don't know where I'm going exactly.
I don't really have a plan.
I should make a plan.
I hate planning.
Should I ditch it and not go?
Should I stay here forever with the covers over my head, pretending that everything's ok?
What's the point?
I wish I was married and settled.
I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
I wish 8 years hadn't passed with nothing noteworthy to say of it.
I wish a lot of things.
Will I feel any different coming back from my travels?
Will I feel accomplished
Calm
Focused
Clear-headed
Or will everything be as foggy as when I left.
I wish I didn't have to do this alone.
I know,
I know there are people who care about me and support me.
But at the end of the day
The coming and going
Is up to me.
Call it an adventure
I call it the lonely journey
Of self discovery.

Leaving Time

The leaving is always the hardest part.

The part right after that is hard, it's sad and heavy and it'll take some time for the fog to pass.

But the act of leaving, of saying goodbye and walking out the door for the last time and leaving your key card behind since you won't be needing it anymore, that is hard.

Saying goodbye and knowing you might very well not keep in touch. Saying things like, "I'll stop in to say hi when I'm back in the neighborhood" but knowing that might never happen.

It's only been a year at this job but I like these people. They're good people and as each day passes which brings me closer to my last here it gets a little more sad. They'll all carry on their day to day and I'll be trudging around Europe trying to find myself as if that's where I lost myself.

I know I'll get through it and this job will soon be only a blip on my resume, but I do think I'll miss these people more than some other jobs I had.

Such is life. Lol.

Base Line

The sign said "Park closes at dusk" which I expected, but I went in anyway.
The path wound along the water and I followed it, I wanted to get to the end and see where it led to. Just around that bend, maybe the next one... But no, it never ended and it got darker and darker as more people passed me on their way out of the park while I made my way deeper in.

Suddenly I looked around me and could barely see anything, that's how dark it got. I took the headphones out of my ears and listened to the silence.

I didn't feel calm or peaceful, I felt anxious. And lonely, like I had reached the ends of the Earth and this was it, no one would ever find me here. I wonder if anyone could even see me here, this tiny little dot.

I feel like that sometimes, you know. There are days like that, and that's​ okay, that's okay because I know it gets better. And I'm learning to check in with myself when I start to feel anxious, ask myself- what level is your anxiety, and if it's a one or two I try breathing and pulling myself back. If it's higher I try figuring out what's causing it, or simply doing something that will help me not think about it.

It's easier being in large crowded places when I feel like that, like a supermarket or the gym. It helps being around other people, even strangers.

I read an article about depression.  I liked this part:

"You explain to everyone that just because you’re sad doesn’t mean you’re going to swallow a bottle of pills. Expressing an emotion isn’t always a harbinger of the extreme, it’s not always a cry for help — it’s what makes us human. You are human and sometimes you are sad and you draw diagrams to explain that sadness is a spectrum. On a scale of 1–10, 10 being it’s impossible to go on, you can’t go on, last year you were an even 20, but this year you’re possibly a 2 or 3, but all everyone remembers was the torching. They sound their five-alarms and the motley lot race to your house with their pain extinguishers and grief hoses, and you tell them, in the calmest voice you can fathom, that you were cooking steak when you set off the fire alarm. See the charred bits. See all the windows open. The smoke rising from the stove. You were just cooking steak; you hadn’t planned on torching the joint.
Before they leave they offer advice: maybe it’s best you not cook steak in the house. Have you considered greens? A vegan caesar salad? You add don’t make steak to the list of things people don’t want you to say or do lest it make them feel…uncomfortable. 
After they leave, you fry hamburgers with the windows and doors open, fans on full-blast.
When will they allow you to remove this mask from your face, because they are smothering you more than yourself?"

--------
Some friends get it and some don't, some I'm just better at hiding it with, and some get really worried at times which is why I try to hide it. 
Sometimes just listening is okay too, not saying anything.

I'm tired. My body is begging me to go to sleep, but I need to tire myself out just enough to do so without thinking. Bring the anxiety down to a zero, and then fall into a dreamless sleep. 

If you haven't already stopped reading this, I suggest you do so. It can't be all that great reading about somebody else's problems.

And yet, as a society that's what writers thrive on. Feel, understand, listen to my pain. I know all about it so I'm an expert.

I'm not an expert at anything, I can't even do sleeping right.

My body bids you a goodnight.

Heal Me

Lay me down in the sun
And heal me
Tell me everything will be okay
Take away my pain
My tears
The clenching feeling in my gut
Take it away please
I don't want it
It doesn't make me stronger
It makes me hurt more
And I don't think I can handle
Any more pain
Don't tell me why this is for the best
Just make it stop
Make it stop
Make it stop
Please.

The world has changed

Oh the world has changed. I have changed. When I come across old blog posts I wrote years ago, it's like meeting an old friend. There you are, "old sport". Oh how I've missed you. I long for simpler times... But we forget, don't we, that those times were anything but simple.
We forget who we are and where we came from, and that compels us to want to go back there, to BE our old selves in our old lives.
But short of time travel, we can never go back. And truly, would you want to?

A couple of years ago when I finished school and was planning to move out of New York, I was hit by a wave of such anxiety and fear I called my mother and cried on the phone, I couldn't catch my breath. She was out with my father at a restaurant and she was worried about me. And I just cried, I was scared, I was lonely, I had no idea what came next for me and that scared the hell out of me.
She told me to calm down and go do something or be with someone. I ended up taking a walk with a friend I seldom hung out with, and we kind of shot the breeze and talked about life in general. I felt better just being out with someone even though I couldn't really talk about what was bothering me.

I'd like to think I've changed since then. I still have moments of anxiety, fear and loneliness. But this time, I remind myself that I'm ok, that I have friends who care about me. And I call these friends, or text them, or make plans to go to them for Shabbos. I surround myself with the people that make me feel loved, and distance myself from the ones who hurt me.

I go to the gym and feel powerful. Or I go to the library and sit quietly reading the Reader's Digest and laugh, and cry a little because their stories always make me cry. Or I watch a funny TV show or a movie. I do something to try and take my mind off of what's worrying me or bothering me.

It doesn't always work. Sometimes I run so fast and hard away from the hard things in life, the questions I'm too afraid to ask myself, as if by running I can outrun them, outsmart them, as if they'll never find me here.

But they always do. And the more I run, the harder they get. They'll never go away. And they aren't supposed to. It's difficult to take a hard look at your life and see, like a graph, the path you imagined yourself is now outside the lines, it's gone off course. And that is not to say that you had your life and future mapped out by the age of 18, certainly you did not. It was as murky then as it is now at times. But then, you had an idea or a vision or were influenced by your family, school, mentors to take the path that you set out for, and then it didn't turn out that way. You came to crossroads after crossroads and eventually ended up in very unfamiliar territory.
How to deal with this? How to reconcile the You you imagined you would be with the You that you are now? Is it OK, how you turned out? Do you feel guilty for the choices you made, if they are not exactly by the books?

The problem with guilt is, it doesn't stop us from doing the things we feel are wrong, only it makes us feel bad about doing them. And unhealthy guilt is just that- unhealthy.

So let it go. Ah, letting go. The title of the popular song which I hate.
How can you let it go? Are you a bad person for living the life you once thought was wrong? For neglecting the things that were most important? You hear your conscience or the voice of your teacher, mentor or mother telling you what's right, and you know what's right but it's not right for you, not right now.
Maybe one day. Maybe never. Maybe this is who you are now and you have to learn to accept yourself, flaws and all.

It's hard. It's hard to feel like you've given up on yourself. And I do feel that way sometimes. I once had a dream to be a writer. And not only have I pretty much stopped writing, I've stopped trying. Stopped believing that I could. That I could publish a book someday. Or work for a magazine, or help other people with my talent and skill. I can recognize that I have talent and skill but I feel like it's been hiding for too long now.

And every time I think about my "life's calling" or what I want to do long term for a career, although I hate the word career because it denotes money and that's not my goal, I always used to think that writing would somehow factor in.
And yet, I've been going from job to job and not sticking around long for various reasons. I've found a place that seems to want me around but I'm most happier when I think of handing in my resignation. What is it about jobs that make me feel that way? Is it the moment I find their flaws? When the rosy feeling of the new job wears off and you start seeing the underbelly of the company and realizing that they are not entirely honest. Or that they're goal really is money and the services they offer don't appeal to you, since you yourself would never pay for something like that. It's hard to sell something you don't believe in.
I don't know that I believe in any of it. I've been trying to find a company to hitch my wagon to, one that is honest and trustworthy and does something for the good of humanity rather than taking people for a ride.

But I haven't found one. Am I not looking wide enough, or do they not exist?

Maybe my future lies in non profit. Or maybe I really haven't figured it out yet. I haven't, I know that. But I keep waiting for my 'Aha' moment and it hasn't come yet.

At what point do I stop waiting, or give up, or stick with the boring job that makes me feel held back and constricted? When is it the time to say, I think I should try dreaming again?
You should never stop dreaming.

I wish I wish I had things more figured out. Some days I feel like I'm full of questions with no answers. And I feel this pressure, some internal and some from the world around me, to figure it out now! Now, because later with be too late. Now, because who am I otherwise. Who am I if not my job, my career. What is my identity. You meet someone new and one of the first things they ask you is 'what do you do'.

I know I'm not my job. That's just a part of it. But just for once I'd like to have an answer ready that makes me feel proud to say it, and doesn't cause their eyes to glaze over.

Can you live your life without the answers? Or rather, how long can you keep going without knowing where you're going? Feeling in the dark along the walls, bumping into objects as you go, hoping and praying you'll land in the right place, but always, always bring unsure.

This is the life that plagues me.

One thing I do know, today is Rosh Chodesh and it's a good time to pray.

And Iyar is my birthday month :-) and birthdays are always good.

Thanks for listening.

No means no

I ask her if I can kiss her and she offers me her shoulder
So I kiss her there.
She doesn't like when I kiss her on her cheek,
Presenting her sleeve as an alternative.
I once asked her why
She said she doesn't like how wet it feels.
Maybe it's a sensory thing
Or maybe it's just a CM thing
But it's something that's important to her
And I respect that.
She asks me "do you love me?"
Lying next to me one cuddly afternoon
And I tell her of course I love her,
I love all of you.
She goes through each sibling separately
And to each I profess my love.
She's asks do I love her mommy
I say yes she's my sister
She asks do I love her Tatty
I pause awkwardly
Reiterate that I love her and her mommy
She asks again do I love her Tatty
Again, I deflect the question.
There was a moment I was overcome with love
And I pulled her towards me and kissed her cheek
She said "you KNOW I don't like that".
She's right. I did know.
I just violated something sacred.
If a child says no
If anyone says no
Respect that.
They know their bodies.
She loves when I hold her
She dislikes when I kiss her cheek
And that's okay.
It's hard, because that's how I want to express my love.
But I find other ways.
So when she does something cute
I ask her
Can I kiss your sleeve
And she holds out her arm
And then she kisses me too
On my shoulder.

Unsettled

I have a sunburn on my nose, and on one arm. Just one. I guess the sun hit me on just that one side. Maybe I should try evening it out.

I sat in the movie theater and let the sound drown out the noises in my head. Where do you go to get away?
I considered curling up and going to sleep, the chairs are pretty comfortable. Just get lost in the noise and voices. Let me be...

The spring comes, I know summer's on its way and I just want to get away. Every once in awhile this feeling takes over me, and I just need to escape. I'm battling it, but not sure how to get over it. How to calm the feelings, settle down. How to just be content with what I'm doing now. But what if you are never quite content?

What if you just never find that something, that thing that fulfills you, fills you with purpose, light, substance.

What if your whole life is a serious of anxiously thinking of getting away, and constant battles with self to stay put, stay in line.

And I have a song on loop, too unsettled to sleep.

What are you grateful for?

This guy is really funny.

I listened to this 3 times today.

I've been having a hard time at work, and have been considering leaving. I'll have been here a year come June. I realize I don't have the greatest track record with jobs, for various reasons.

I went to speak to my boss today, not specifically to mention leaving, but in general to touch base regarding my position and my future in the company.

My boss said, NYC mayor Ed Koch used to say, if you like 6/10 things then stick with it. He may have been referring to politicians, but my boss told me, if you like 6/10 things about your job, more than half, then stick with it. Is the grass really greener on the other side?

Good advice. I'm considering sticking around for awhile, or at least until I feel strangled and have to leave.

So I decided to listen to Ted talks at work and see if it helps me think better, broaden my mind, work more productively.

I happened upon this gem of a talk, this guy is funny and I enjoyed listening to it.

What I took away from it is, write down 3 things you are grateful for, every day for 21 days in a row. Journal at least once a day about something positive that happened to you in the past 24 hours.

Thinking about things you are grateful for makes you think more positively, see the world more positively.

I want to try it. I don't usually feel grateful. I take things for granted, like most.

Today, what am I grateful for?

My car, which gives me freedom.

My income, which allows me to spend money at Sephora.

My sister, who gave me a place to live.

"The absence of disease is not health."

"If I work harder, I'll be more successful. And if I'm more successful, then I'll be happier."

Work the other way around, by seeking out the positivity, and all else follows.

What are you grateful for today?

Cut

You cut people down
To build them back up
You don't build
You just cut them
You cut them
You cut them
You cut the pieces of yourself that scare you
The ones you hate
Can't stand to see in the mirror let alone in someone else.
You cut away your fears
You lash out to mend your wounds
But the tears slide right into the gash
Burning.
You can't say "I like you" so you say "you're alright" or "I guess you'll do".
You make people feel less
So you could feel more
Or rather
So you could care less
Detached
You stand
Alone.
You cut others down
Think you'll build them back up
But once taken apart
You can't figure out just how
To put them back together again.

Stop cutting.

What now

It's hard to figure out remember who I am any more. Am I my social media account? Am I my dying out dwindling blog?
I don't know. I hate that I don't know but sometimes that answer must suffice.
More so, I hate that I can't figure it out. Who am I, on my own, without my family. Who am I when I'm not with my friends? Who am I? Am I my job? Am I my degree, which by now feels useless.
I hate how much I need people but even more that I don't feel comfortable relying on anyone.
I hate the way I feel exposed when sharing a part of myself ​with others.
I hate when I stay silent when there's something I really want to say.
All I'm hearing is hate. Yes, but is there love there? Do I have any to give?
I love waking up at 8 am on a Sunday morning to my 4 year old niece's face pressed into mine telling me "wake up, it's the morning".
I love when my nieces want to "play with me" (hang out), or rest with me in bed while I read a book, I love that they follow me around and want to know what I'm doing, I love that they call me to the table to sit with them while they eat dinner even though I'm watching a TV show on my phone and not paying them any attention. But they want me there. And part of me thinks, they're little, what do they know, maybe they'll grow up and hate me/shun me/discard me just like everyone else-- but maybe, just maybe they really do love having me around and I matter to them.
I hate that my family made me feel this way, like there's no where I belong right now, like I'm just floating or wandering aimlessly with no direction in mind. They're not even nice to me for the few minutes I stop in to get some more of my stuff, you'd think a month away would make them nicer, but no. No. I shouldn't have expected more.
Truthfully, I'm not really upset. I can admit that even if I want to feel upset or think I should. But I'm not. The situation is beyond my control and more so, I should have left long ago. What I'm realizing now is that I stopped taking control of my life, or maybe never really did. I just let things happen to me and then complained when things didn't go my way.
When I told someone that I'm no longer welcome at living at home and that I'm looking for an apartment, the response I got was "good for you".
Good for me?? How is any of this good for me?
But maybe it is. Maybe it's about time I take a direction in my life instead of waiting for things to happen, or feeling like the victim. Because I'm not a victim. I'm the product of a bad situation and unfortunate circumstances, but I cannot go around blaming everyone else for my problems.
And when I told my boss what I'm going through (contrary to a friend's advice that they have no business knowing my personal life) his response was, we all have things going on, but it shouldn't affect your work.
It's not. I don't think. Maybe. But I keep thinking this job is temporary and I'm meant to be doing something else, and yet here I am, not doing something else. So for the time being, I must admit this is where I'm meant to be.
And make a choice to be here, instead of wondering about all the other things my time would be better suited for.
I'm trying to convince myself as much as you. More so than you.
I'm trying to figure everything out, and I wish I could sound more clear about things, but right now maybe just taking it day by day is okay too.
And to the friend who took the time to find out my sister's address and send me a card with an encouraging message, letting me know she's here with me, thank you for making me feel like I'm not forgotten.

Periphery

Stay on the sidelines
Out of the way
Make yourself small
So they can't get you
Hurt you
Mock you
Make you
Want to

They've won
They've already won
Haven't they.
But is this really about
Winners or losers
Protect yourself
Believe in your integrity
Don't let her
Anyone
Take that away

It's hard not to cry
When I try to tell "Katie S" from Google support that my mother kicked me out of the house.

"Outdoors, we knew, was the real terror of life... Sometimes mothers put their sons
outdoors, and when that happened, regardless of what the son had done, all sympathy was with him. He was outdoors, and his own flesh had done it. To be put outdoors by a landlord was one thing—unfortunate, but an aspect of life over which you had no control, since you could not control your income. But to be slack enough to put oneself outdoors, or heartless enough to put one’s own kin outdoors—that was criminal." The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison

What can I say?
She's been horrible to me my whole life,
Cutting me down and verbally abusing me
She wants to protect her grown kids who can protect themselves
She thinks I'm the problem, the instigator
But I profess my innocence.

Right now it's not anger but pity I feel for her
And embarrassment
By the way she treated me
By the way she made me feel
By the way no siblings came to my rescue
Save one
By the way I felt shamed as I walked out the door
Trying not to let my head hang
Because dammit
I did nothing wrong

Yes it's hard not to cry
The one sister who sat with me
Outside when I was kicked out
At 9,
Cannot remember what I "did"
Who knows, she finds numerous reasons
To blame me for all her problems
And I sat there and cried
And this same sister
Who said "sure" without questions
When I asked if I could crash by her for a few days
Sat with me on the stoop
And tried to tell me
That don't worry
She still loves you

I never doubted that
But maybe
Just maybe
I hoped she would stop hurting me

And yet here I am.

Be Open

Sometimes you hear the words you need to hear in a song... Or in a TV show.
Sometimes you read the words you need to hear in a Facebook post... Or an advertisement.

You hear what you need to hear. Or you don't hear what you don't want to hear. Selective hearing.

Ever wonder why something feels so perfect at just the right moment? When you are thinking about something specific- love, or sadness or hunger- everything you see feels like it's directed at just that topic.

Sometimes you don't realize that it's easier to express your feelings than to bottle them up and present a resentful hostile face to the world. To the person you're upset at.

In the long run, though it may seem easier to hold a grudge and feel sad about something, perhaps as a way of distancing yourself or protecting yourself from the possibility of future pain- right NOW it's better to be open and honest and express your feelings to the best of your ability.

It leaves you open and vulnerable and it can be uncomfortable, but just imagine how much good can find its way inside you while you're standing there with the door wide open.

In a rut

The streets are filled with holes.

The more the snow falls, and melts the more the holes appear.

Were they there to begin with, only hiding? Or are these new craters, the products of a cold wet snowy salt-strewn wintry road?

The ruts and ditches can be dangerous as drivers swerve to avoid them at all costs, protect the life of their tires.

The roads are falling apart.

Come spring, they will be patched over with tar, a quick fix. Can we not afford a better solution? When next winter they will rot again.

Cover it up and cover it up and cover it up- until the holes become so big that swerving is an impossibility.

The ditches will be the norm, and the streets will be no more.

Just...Try

It's been so long I feel like I've forgotten how.
It hurts to write, but it hurts so much more not to.
Every time I've gotten the idea to write I've stopped myself. Or something...held me back.
Me. I held me back.

I want to try again.
I need to.
I can't let that part of me go
It's been dying slowly.

I speak a million words and say not one useful thing.

"I feel like tonight the bullies have won."

My thoughts the night before inauguration day.

I haven't gotten past my fear of speaking my opinion. Partly because I'm not sure of it sometimes, but mostly because it's hard for me to deal with the responses.

I could have been famous but I chose to be silent.

Well, not famous. Outspoken. Articulate. Headstrong.

What's the alternative?

They'll never know me.

And neither will I.

Ticket to Fear

Our eyes meet
She looks scared
Or, maybe I'm just projecting.
I smile encouragingly- read, lamely.

I'd be afraid
Suspended 4 stories above the ground
On a rope course
With only a harness to keep me from falling.

She makes it across
And keeps going
The next challenge looks easier
She's 9, what does she know about fear.

Below her I see a couple,
The woman goes first
And turns around as if to show her reluctant man
See, it's not so bad.

This is an illusion of danger
I'm sure if someone were to fall
They'd have to close the ride
And find out what went wrong.
That person, a statistic.

I'm sure they have you sign a waiver
But really, it's a rope course
With a harness
What's the danger?

Where's the thrill
In looking down
And seeing the ground way below you
As you try not to stumble.

As if
There's not enough terror
In the world
That you have to go out and create it.

As if
There's not enough death already
In the world
That you have to go out and greet it.

I never liked
Amusement parks
They don't amuse me.
I'd rather stay on solid ground.

You want to feel fear?
Imagine being in the burning towers
As they collapsed around you,
Or you jumped to your death to escape the flames.

Or being in the first, second plane
At the moment you realized
You would never again
Touch the ground.

You seek thrill
But this is a glass soundproof shatterproof bulletproof box
As the world falls down
Around you.

You won't be touched by pain
Here.
You won't see tragedy
Here.

As you follow the rope course
Your heart pounding blood
Taste of fear in your mouth
There are people running for their lives from a pressure cooker explosion.

They won't call it terror,
No, let's not jump to conclusions
It could be anything
Right, anyone could accidentally leave a pressure cooker here- with a cell phone detonator.

You make it safely to the ground
And take that tiny bit of fear home with you
Thrill-seekers, they are called.
Put your fear on the mantelpiece for all to see.

You walk across a rope course
With a harness
And no real danger of ever actually
touching the ground.

Real terror- you won't experience that
In your lifetime
So we created it for you.
Buy your tickets here!

How to Ask for Feedback at Work

Sometimes, most times, we have to work up the nerve to do something that scares us, makes us uncomfortable, takes us even a little bit out of our comfort zone. We ‘psyche ourselves up’, soothe our nerves with encouraging inner dialogue, like “you can do this” and “you’ve got this”.

Something as simple as asking for feedback from a new employer.

It’s not simple. It never is. But being a recent hire at a new company, and knowing that they are conducting ongoing interviews for additional positions, I got the feeling akin to a child knowing that their mom is having a new baby and feeling like they are being pushed out of the way, forgotten, unwanted even.

We all have ongoing inner dialogues in our brains, telling us all sorts of things, some good and helpful and some bad, unhealthy mantras that work to destroy us from the inside out. Why we do this is a study in human psyche, but we don’t always need to know the why, just that it is that way.

How does one ask for feedback without seeming needy and vulnerable? How does one essentially say, “praise me, like me, want me, tell me that I wasn’t a mistake” without sounding exactly like that?

First: Google it. Google tells me everything I need to know. Google says:

Be prepared. Ask your boss in advance for some time to meet and discuss a few things. This request can be in the form of a text or email. Do not elaborate.

Write down different points you would like to bring up. In my case, I wanted general feedback and a sense of how I am doing, being that I am coming up on the 3 month mark. I wanted to know if the company feels that I am adequately doing the job that they hired me to do. I asked for specific areas where I could improve, and brought in my own examples of things that were mentioned in the interview, which I was aware that now that my time was more full, some of it was being neglected.

My boss saw me in the morning and asked me if I was ready to meet with him. I was too nervous, so he told me to let him know when I was ready. I was trying to put my finger on it, that something that was making me anxious and unsettled particularly now, when things were going so well. Last week had been a stressful week, and I began to doubt myself and my abilities, question whether I was fulfilling my duties or if they would fire me at any second. The inner paranoia claws at you, whispers in your ear and makes you crazy until you just have to know, until you are ready to scream ‘Just do it already, fire me and get it over with!’

I debated whether I should even set up this meeting at all, but I finally decided that I needed solid feedback, specifically some sort of praise or encouragement, or I was bound to sink into a pattern of negative thought, whereby I convince myself that they don’t need me/want me/are looking to get rid of me.

I finally realized it halfway through the day. A visitor was buzzed in from outside, she came in hesitantly like she did not quite belong here, and said ‘I’m here for a second interview’. And that was it- the fear of being pushed out. I understood.

At my last job, I was there for about a year when I discussed with management that I needed assistance, that my job was too much for one person to handle. So they hired me an ‘assistant’ whom I trained in, and then they pretty much fired me. That kind of attitude creates a fear, an instability, that it can happen at any time, from anyone. Part of me realizes that this is just a job, but then again, it is where I choose to spend most of the hours in my day at the moment, it creates a stable atmosphere, it fosters trust and goodwill. Even as I logically knew that hiring for new positions would not threaten my own, I felt that I was not fully integrated in the company yet, not quite secure.

I finally got up the nerve to meet with my boss after lunch. I started off by telling him that I was looking for basic feedback and to make sure we were on the right page. He listened and let me speak, and then told me with such conviction that I had learned so much and grasped much more then they expected in this short time, and that it was tremendous how much I picked up. It felt good to hear it, even though they’ve mentioned it once before, and I knew it to be true.

He did give me some critical feedback, which was not a surprise to me, and then we discussed me taking on more responsibility and him not wanting to put too much on me at once.

All in all, it was a good meeting, and afterwards and for the rest of the day I felt like I could breathe easier, the stress was gone. I was no longer guessing or wondering or worrying.

Right before our meeting ended, he asked if there was anything else I wanted to say. I hesitated, and part of me fought to not say it, but it came out anyway:

“Do you think I’m a good hire?” (Validate me!)

“I think so”.

That’s what I needed to hear.

Wretched

It looked so peaceful in slumber, this beast that preyed on me so, my heart racing in fear as it came near and retreated just out of my reach, please let me kill you, let me end this now, we both know there is no future for you, but mine starts tomorrow and I can't go to sleep with the sound of your wings o’flappin in my ear, so towel swinging round and round you fly frantically in circles, the hunted one as I squeal when you come near, I hit you once and you go down, success is in my reach, but no, you're alive yet, crawling injured on the ground, your wings now useless, I swat you again and squat over you victorious, but it's ALIVE still! My heart, I jump and step while screaming, it's only a fly I know, but terror it'll follow me into my dreams, unless I let it rest now, be gone.

Observances @ 7 am

There's just something about this city, the greatest city in the world,

It's a feeling, elusive- so hard to describe though many many have tried, it's like spitting out your car window at a red light, it's suits with flip-flops and low cut dresses at 7 am, flats with heels hiding in bags, it's coffee on every corner, it's suits and ties with backpacks on bikes, it's window washing with the roar of traffic as your music, it's ‘not in service’ tour buses that have not quite yet awoken, it's id's worn round necks, it's the constant smell of smoke in the air, fighting to find parking, it's a feeling, a love-hate-indifference desire to fit in, to stand out, to be different and exactly the same, it's a smell in the air, renewal each morning, stooped shoulders and shuffling feet, dad bods with baby strollers walking dogs, running, breaking a sweat before the city has woken from its slumber, earbuds and headphones and sunglasses, leggings and neon orange sneakers and yoga mats and guitar cases, it's personality peaking out of every bag and every face and every walk and in the swing of every arm, it's gym bags and tote bags and shoulder bags and lunch bags and shoes with tassels, tattoos, it's coffee hot and coffee iced and tea, and ties not yet tied, it's stretching and waking and yawning and breathing and sunrise and shadows fading, it's knowing that you're in this city too but not having met you yet. It's the greatest city in the world, with slices and glimpses and snatches of millions of scenes that sewn together makes one haphazard disorganized beautiful breathtaking tapestry, and the longer you linger and watch, the more you’ll love it or hate it or yearn to know it, be a part of it, be one with it, lay down on the street and breathe in the smells and spread your arms wide and embrace the city that embraces all.

Puzzle Pieces

The pieces lay broken
well, not broken but misaligned
jumbled
disorganized
a kaleidoscope of color
waiting to be sorted
unraveled
put back together.
Once a huge slab
in a factory
mass produced
with fun in mind
or maybe just profit
cut up into little pieces
and packed into boxes
shipped off to all the little girls and boys
or the 20-something grown ups
who refuse to say 'grown up'
to try their hand at solving it
putting the pieces back together.
A collaborative effort
I sit in the lobby
of the library
at the table with two chairs
taking up both
and leaving room for none
I need this time alone
my back to passerby
who stop to watch
or contribute
this is not mine alone
but OURS
only, I have a problem with sharing
and come back as soon as I can
to finish the puzzle
I didn't start.
It's still there,
Ha! As if,
anyone else were smarter or better than I
No, this puzzle needs me
these people need me
so I sit day after day
1,000 scattered pieces
painstakingly put together
trying to force it won't help,
have patience my dear,
step back and look from afar
what is it you are missing
you can't see from this close
it should fit but it doesn't
it shouldn't fit and it does
the colors don't match
I can't find the one I'm looking for
and then it does
and then I do
and in a rush
like the last half mile of a race
when energy is lacking
but the runner sprints
speeding up the pace
almost done
all the pieces falling into place
it makes sense now
I understand
I see it
rather, it sees me
my hands are not doing this
the pieces find their spots of their own accord
and 5
4
3
2
1
DONE
take a step back
and breath
smile
it's 8:45 pm
the library is closing
no one is around to see my victory
no one but me will know
but I know,
I know
how much it took
to put the pieces of me
back together.