Getting There Means Being Here

Going home on Friday.

On most Fridays, I post a cheeky status update on FB welcoming the weekend with wonder and flirtation. It’s as much fun as it has become routine; if I don’t post one of these winking welcomes, friends either write a note on my Timeline announcing their own Friday excitements, or they text me directly, worried that I might be stuck under something heavy. (Hopefully a hot guy! <rrrrrim shot!>)

I work my ass off at a job I absolutely love, but even still, weekends are necessary to rest and recharge, mostly in the company of family and friends. I’d say that I manage to do this about 37% of the time, which if I were grading that, well, that’s kind of an F-minus. I am not AT ALL lacking for wonderful friends or family to spend at least another 53% of that time with (a girl does need some time for meditation and beauty treatments), but I have been lacking in certain basic resources… of which I am trying to figure out just how to explain here, and in so doing feel less tortured and frustrated by their constraints.

The rub is, when you isolate yourself for whatever the reason, you miss out on the very thing you need to help you rest and recharge: connection with humans who love you. It’s been a fairly erratic summer for me on this front, and especially even harder without my running to keep me sane and fit. About two weekends ago, after countless  2-day stretches seemingly tied together only with near constant rewatches of Pitch Perfect, (which although a super fun movie, is not compelling enough to watch so close together, I mean it’s no Clueless) I realized I was teetering and couldn’t seek refuge in the bottom of my very old TV and 500 channels much longer.

I’m feeling… cryptic… and that’s 100% intentional (A-plus!). Mostly because I am in the middle of the process of reaching out to my people, and attempting to share my tender spots without emotional drama, but also, to get the encouragement and connection I need from them to get to the place to use my writing to tell the stories of WHY I find myself having to spend so much time alone.

So Friday, you handsome devil you, I will still continue to flirt with you. And since you’ve been so patient with me, I will likely put out – SOME WRITING! (sheesh, don’t be all handsy) – very, very soon. I have trust issues, but I am so worth the wait.

I Heard There’s This Place Called Summer

Last summer's list... full disclosure: much like the blobbed word on the ball, it didn't go so well.

Last summer’s list… full disclosure: much like the blobbed word “FUN” on the ball, my summer didn’t go so well.

The Summer of 2013 is decidedly not the Greatest Summer of All Time pour moi. Oh, oops, I slipped into a bit of French there, maybe because every single human I know well (not to mention the semi-knowns I follow on Instagram) is in f’ing Paris right now. Oops, sorry, I am not cursing Paris. I know it to be a beautiful, inspiring city teeming with art and culture, and its meta-clichés of chic bike riding women whose baskets carry actual baguettes and flowers, whizzing past lovers making out at every café and park bench is actually charming and delightful and from what I remember of the one time I was there over 10 years ago for four days makes you feel that… je ne sais quois… oh, there I go again. Having that not-summer summer.

There are 467 thousand valid reasons that I am unable to take a summer vacation this year and the same list applies to why I could not take one last year. However, there are none that are stopping me from enjoying the season here at home on weekends and long, late-setting days. But there is this issue: I’m fixed in an ironic struggle that has me so exhausted I can’t relax, but the more I don’t relax the more weary I become. And even though summer is famous for it’s call to slow down, I have been deaf to it. (Except in French.)

This morning I made the executive decision to take a whole day off this coming Friday. The only way this counts though is if I go DO something summery a.k.a. touristy/cultural/fun etc. I have been so far down the stress rabbit hole that I could not even process making those types of plans, and then, by the grace of the one brain cell I have left, I remembered…

I put “Start A Mediation Practice” on my Life List.

Good thing I had that written down and posted online! And even better that I live 30 minutes away from two world renowned spiritual retreat and mediation centers! And triple word score for the fact that one is having a Morning Meditation and Yoga Class on Friday morning AND it has a sliding scale, something my budget requires! So, there it is, I will be turning off my electronics for the better part of the day, and meditating my way into summer.

A votre santé!

(The post also appears at Go Mighty!)