A pot of many ingredients…

Every Sunday morning I *usually* find myself sitting at my desk with a fresh cup of coffee, reading the weekly update from PostSecret. I have done this for years now and it’s become an integral part to my Sunday morning. And no, I have never sent one in… although if I did, I would have to type it out because my handwriting is pretty recognizable to those who know it and then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore. Heh. 
 

Just now I accidentally stumbled upon a twitter feed that is nothing but photos around Japan. It’s a trip because 3 visits in and it still feels like it hasn’t been enough. The photos got me teary, even. It’s a weird thing when a place so foreign to you and your roots becomes so intrinsically a part of you. So much so you can feel it in your bones and soul, like stumbling on photos of an old friend or lover that you separated paths from…. except you’re still madly in love with them. Oh Nippon, forever a place in me.

If there is one thing I have learned this week, and what a goddamn week it has been, is that learning to establish boundaries is hard. Even harder? Keeping them. Defending them. Putting up the drawbridge, filling the moat with rabid crocodiles and really Sticking. To. Them. It’s hard shit man, especially when those boundaries are pushed and tested.

Other things I’m coming to? My “secrets” – that internal monologue of struggles/trauma that I have been carrying around don’t belong to anyone. They’re mine to have, process and share whenever I am ready to. I don’t owe that shit to ANYONE and my not opening my Pandora’s box to someone isn’t a unit if measure of value. My withholding and suppression doesn’t mean I don’t trust, care or love. It means I am still trying to find my own peace with them and that is a process that will occur at the pace I am most comfortable with. It can be days, months, years. The heart and mind are really complicated places and on so many occasions, they do not see eye to eye. At least from my personal experience. So it bears repeating, cause I had a friend hammer this into me and she was beyond right: No one is entitled to your trauma.


Since June I have been suffering weird pains in my side which was later confirmed as gallstones. A hereditary lottery that I was bound to win, except there’s no money and you get what feels like a book shoved in your rib cage. A hardback. In any event it’s been almost 2 months of this shit… doctors, tests, avoiding all that is good in the world: greasy, fried and fatty foods… unless I want to end up in the ER and who wants that shit! I FINALLY got an eviction date! So come September I am punting this gd gallbladder to the curb. The timing is awful for a myriad of reasons but here we go!
There is a huge difference between listening to someone and hearing them. Huge. I hope you’re able to understand the difference because it is no ones responsibility to explain this to you. Do yourself a learn and hopefully not at the expense of someone else. Cool.In the past week I did something I had not done in a great while: send mail. Not sure why it has taken me so long to get back on that but here we are… and it felt GOOD. Something I need to do way more of, along with writing in this box.

Maybe you’ll be next.

 

 

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