Saturday, February 25, 2012

I woke up at six to reread a document I have been worrying over for days.
It's good, it's persuasive and well written, but I can't seem to stop thinking about it.
Work has been felt like a yolk on my neck for months and this week in particular I've been no good at letting things go.
I'm skipping an important training on diversity, today and being a little bit selfish.
Perhaps that's why I had an inner drive to take one more look, just to rationalize not working on the weekend- much.
My yoga work has been about self love, not  moxie or bravado. Stop being tough and feel what you feel.
Learning to love who you are where you are, which is tricky.
Much like that legal document, I tend to want to pick things apart endlessly and have a do over.
I had coffee with a friend this week and we talked about love, death and motivation and whether people are essentially the same, or if they change.
We talked about growing up in a certain type of  upper middle class, suburban landscape and how that informs personalities and types.
Does the container produce the product?
I still feel raw from my experiences there.  He works on himself, I work on myself, I have no idea if the work in progress ever ends.
His thesis was that the boys we grew up with were largely self centered and superficial and emotionally shut down because they were a product of their environment.  My thesis is that you chose love, sensitivity and compassion. You actively chose to be a kind person, it isn't innate or consequential.  You decide who you are going to be.
"you weren't that type." I said.
"I could have been."  he said
"but you weren't."
He is a writer and sees things from a writerly point of view.
He is the witness.
I take it all very personally and want to smash things up, and cry and pound my fists, but it isn't in my character to be destructive. I was brought up to be polite at all costs.
I told him I thought he was letting people off too easily.  I could tell he thought I was too harsh.  We agree to disagree without saying so, and walked out into a pretty, clear night.

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