To Whom It May Concern,

To whom it may concern,

The days of wine and roses are over. The sun no longer shines for us; in fact, I don’t believe it ever actually did. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Rather, it is the last day of the best of your life. Actually, yesterday was the last day. Today is the first day of the steady uphill trudge that is to be your daily grind from now on.

We’ve had a good run, but every good thing must eventually come to an end. It was good while it lasted, and so on. We spin so many lines to describe the terrible events that no one wants to admit were actually that terrible (yet in which we fully immersed ourselves anyway in some vain attempt at happiness), but now I can move on to explaining to you how this new game works, as the old one has come to a bitter and crashing halt.

First and foremost you must forego any attempts at self-flattery, adulation, and the achievement of happiness as you once knew it. The ghost of bliss we once easily recognized in the glow of kisses and steaming coffee has found shelter in more obscure places, creeping in through the cracks in the walls that were listening when we told the world how it ends—abruptly and without reason. Where there once was a soft and happy glow subtly illuminating the world so we could see it all at once, there now are just spotlights here and there, serving their purpose of illuminating singular moments of clear joy and cruelly creating a deafening darkness in the meantime, one through which we stumble and often fall. But just as we pitch ourselves unwittingly into the holes we also climb out into lovely moments once in a great while. These are the dreams which keep us walking.

Secondly, you will grow to expect that no man or woman outside of your own soul will ever be able to support you in times of great spiritual need. Not your mother, your father, or the person with whom you spend every waking moment, the one that you think about when you fall asleep and again when you rise, the one about whom you dream while Moon laughs down at you. This is not to say that any one of these people does not want to help, it is just that they are generally standing too close to be privy to the vision of your crumbling. By the time you come to this point your grievances will be hidden at the bottom of a chest cloaked in the dust of so many years of wakeful stillness, and the bright pain of them will only present as the smallest pinprick of light to those outside. And while we all wish to find the soul mate that distinguishes this one light from the rest, most of us will never recognize our rescuers.

To be continued,

Wow, I didn't realize it had been so long. I had these grand plans of using Sundays to write entries, but like so many plans I make, that didn't really happen.

I've been thinking a lot about self-discipline, and more specifically, my lack thereof. I think if I could only master that art, then my whole life would be monumentally easier (at least, on a daily basis). The key seems to be living one moment at a time, or trying one moment at a time. If I hold myself up to grand, epic standards with no specific daily goals then I will never achieve what I have the power to achieve.

It's been an interesting month. It has highlighted my tendency to live on the wire, that is, I live in a constant feeling of trying to achieve balance. I don't know if it would be better to always find balance, or to always try for balance. I feel like always being balanced wouldn't suit my palette. This sounds almost masochistic, but I think that it would be quite boring to be balanced all the time. What I mean by balance is the perceived notion of emotional neutrality. I would say "stability", but I don't think that is the best word for it. I think one can be emotionally stable without necessarily being balanced. I think that a natural part of living life to its fullest is allowing yourself to fully immerse in all ranges of emotion. Yes, it can be painful at times when you're in the bucket, but it is also completely exhilarating during the ups.

Of course, I say this because this is how I currently live. Maybe if I had found a way to stay steady on the wire, I would be preaching otherwise.


I stood up on my toes
To watch the coming Storm
Only to find that
The Rain had already fallen.


peace,
rachel audrey

401suc(k)s

What am I doing here. What am I doing here. What am I doing here.

Was coerced, or herded, really, into a meeting about 401(k)s and how I need to start worrying about my retirement today. If I want to be fiscally successful and independent, I should be putting 10% of my income away in a hidey hole. That's a great sentiment but then I would no longer be able to buy groceries. But really, eating is so passe, so I should probably give it up anyway.

No wonder some people believe the world is going to end soon. "Our" (as in the Western world, and probably beyond) priorities are absolutely fucked. We are cogs in a machine and most of us don't even care. What is life? Life is not working. Life is not money. Life is not stuff. Life is people. It is blood, it is spirit, it is the sun shining and the clouds raining, it is walking and breathing and loving and speaking and connecting and playing and so many other things that are in-quantifiable, therefore of no great importance in the modern world for that very reason.

Yes, I realize that it is wise to save money. It is something that I have to do in order to live in this world. But I get scared to think that someday I might be so involved in the quantifiable that I forget that those are DETAILS. My father told me that I was just going through a phase, that I'll grow up and come to realize that yes, the world is about money. If my notions that the world is much larger and more beautiful than a dollar bill can encompass are actually a phase, then I hope I die before I come out of it.

Some days I wish I was steering. Others I'm happy I'm not. And the rest of the time I wonder who or what is supposed to be steering.

I was in the kitchen, and I heard it...so I came out.

I was just sitting at my dining room table sorting through some old receipts after thoroughly lecturing myself on the importance of budgeting one's money, when I saw my planner sitting on the table.

I opened it up and started writing things in it, then got very sad that I have relatively few things to write in it these days, at least compared to when I was in school. And I automatically was caught in a weak grip of panic, but instead of surrendering I asked myself, "Why don't you enjoy this freedom? Go ahead. Yep. You...there you go."

I still have a bit of a sour feeling in my stomach, but I'm used to it.

This morning as I was leaving my house I caught a whiff of my shared hallway, and it's a smell that I recognized from moving into the place. The other day I cleaned my carpet with the same solution I used when I shampooed my sofa upon arrival in the Twin Cities. Where is the crazy sniffer lady going with this? Both of these smells instantly transported me back to the crazed feeling of panic I had when I moved up here, instead this time I was an observer, not a participant. And I actually smiled about it. Look at you, I said. Look at you there, freaking out, with no one in the room to protect you from your own fears, with no one to grab your shoulders and shake you. And guess what. You're still alive. And quite smug about it. Look at you, indeed.

Then I went to work, where I alternately consoled, cajoled, and harassed harried loan officers all day. Oh well. The good with the bad I suppose.


As a sidenote, I sometimes wonder if the world can be boiled down to love and fear, and am wondering if we perhaps combine and/or confuse the two.

evening

I am waiting for something to happen. I have conflicting feelings about this situation. It is exciting, and generally fills me with a creative spirit that seems to lend itself to exciting happenings. But it also crosses my mind that I may not be forever satisfied with waiting for something to happen. Then I remember that while I do spend time waiting for things to happen, I also spend time experiencing new and wonderful things. In the end I can only hope that I never forget what it's like to enjoy/look forward to/work towards CHANGE.

PHEW!

Okay, so I got some things out of the way in the last few days. To use an overextended phrase, I literally do feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't realize how heavy it was until I finally chose to put it down. I even caught myself trying to pick it up again. Old habits die hard, I guess.


Nobody wants to gasp for air in icy water alone. But as it turns out, the people who manage to avoid it are the ones left on the other shore, and not the one where the grass is greener.


"keep on swimming, keep on swimming..."