At last, a label for myself - I’m a bouncer too. I used to think I was a bolter; no commitment, no stick-at-it-ness, a constant avoidance of reality, of pain really. I bounced last St Patrick’s Day, and ever since I’ve been bouncing (or have been being bounced) like one of those crazy rubber super balls. And all the time wondering. Did I just leave in a sort of childish temper tantrum, was I just running away from a painful (for me) situation? Or was there something deeper going on, some message from the unconscious; that this is no longer where I need to be. In all the bounces in my life, this has been the pattern. But as I have grown older, maybe wiser, in retrospect each bounce feels right, even inevitable. A rebirth, a chance to grow, to learn. And a leap into the dark, off a cliff, away from safety and security and complacency, into a not-knowing blind faith and trust in the goodness of being and becoming. If I have made mistakes (if?!) it’s more often been not letting go, clinging on to nurse for fear of something worse
In my 20s, I was the typical pseudo-intellectual hedonist who liked to bash the concept of marriage, point out the high divorce rates, speculate on the possibility of even higher infidelity rates, and generally treat dating culture like a selfish party where everyone is just out to get theirs. Marriage and family was crashing and burning and I reveled in dancing in the flames. I thought I was unique for being this way but really I was pretty common.
Maybe I was just afraid to keep getting hurt, especially when everything about modern dating culture promotes sex, money, and entertainment above genuine connections, mutual respect, and faithfulness. I got played in high school. Heartbroken in college. So at the dawn of my post-grad bachelorhood, I adopted a “when in Rome” attitude, erected an unassailable wall around my feelings, numbed myself with copious amounts of alcohol, and just decided to have fun.
By my late 20s, it was impossible to have fun this way. It took a once in a century pandemic to close down the bars and give me some time to reflect on things, and I was fortunate enough to find someone I could finally trust and open up to. I still wonder sometimes about how marriage and family will fare for society at large, but regardless of how that goes, I’ll try to carve out a good example for my own kids anyways.
Entirely unrelated to Austin visit, even with the Easter egg title... It sure does look like fun there. I understand vagabonding, never quite sure if it's nature, caprice, cowardice, curiosity or a mundane, listless jellyfishery. Working in mineral exploration, long weeks away with a week or two off became addictive. You're rarely anywhere long enough to get sick of anyone and when you leave you're sincerely fared well. Everything's always a bit novel, including you. But it's ethereal, you're never really anywhere. I've stopped, now. The town seems to be vaguely aware of it; people I've recognised for years are now recognising me. It's both heartening and frighteningly foreign.
I love what you're doing here, been lurking freely for a while and now wanna participate in this novel gathering. Consider all bells and buttons touched.
A goal of mine for the year is to tap into my creativity and create the space to do so. For me that means writing, for now. I have never granted the space I need to allow my creative side to flow. I have always felt a pull toward expressing myself through writing but never believed I had anything to say. At least anything to say that others would want to read anyway. So I have been writing, but only sharing it with my AA sponsor because most of what I have to say right now revolves around my personal recovery. So here I am, in this writing club, putting it out there to challenge my own comfort zone by sharing myself with other creative people and taking action in opposition to my fear of vulnerability.
I have a history of wallowing in painful places and circumstances way too long to avoid having to disrupt other people. My recovery has taught me that this is people pleasing behavior and I am learning to work through that harmful characteristic. But what has been most eye opening to me throughout this process is my ability to totally abandon myself for fear of being abandoned by others. I notice how I do this in all kinds of situations at work, at home, with friends and I am getting to see how crazy this makes me. What has made me even more crazy was the response of others when I refuse to jump my own ship. I am getting better about sticking to my guns when I have made a decision that I know is in my own best interest, but the blow back can be really hard sometimes. But I am so grateful to be stepping more fully into myself and not allowing fear to drive me to abandon Micah anymore.
I heard about a book years ago called The Gift of Fear. It is important to pay attention to that voice inside our hearts and minds. As Christians, we also refer to that voice as the Holy Spirit. It guides us the right way if we only listen to it.❤️
Years ago, my oldest son wrote an autobiographical essay for school, where he wrote: " The most interesting thing about my mother is that she lied in a five boroughs of New York."
Let's get two things straight:
He misspelled "lived."
He was probably right.
What a gut punching mommy moment that was: My frequent relocation
was my defining act of cool?
At the time, I had been a writer at Playbill Magazine for going on two decades. I had directed hundreds of plays and taught almost a thousand students. I raised four boys (or was in the process of such,) I can write backwards and forwards simultaneously AND I can name almost any 80s tune in 2 notes.
If I sound like a defensive show off, do you blame me? My own KIDS who I BIRTHED were like, "Whatever" and "Dinner is gross can we order out?"
But the worse part of this commentary on my kid's school paper is that at its heart, he was on to something: The most interesting thing about my may be that I've lived in all five boroughs of New York and I still live in this $hithole I mean dump yard where lie the remains of the World Trase Center, along with American Exceptionalism.
I'm so proud of you; I'm cheering! Yay! I'm beside you in spirit, sister. The turtle arrives (despite the rabbit, or something?) I trust your spirit to translate that while giggling at how much I sound like a fucking hippie. I used to have notes on hippies, but I was a child who thought (a) clue was a board game. 💜
At last, a label for myself - I’m a bouncer too. I used to think I was a bolter; no commitment, no stick-at-it-ness, a constant avoidance of reality, of pain really. I bounced last St Patrick’s Day, and ever since I’ve been bouncing (or have been being bounced) like one of those crazy rubber super balls. And all the time wondering. Did I just leave in a sort of childish temper tantrum, was I just running away from a painful (for me) situation? Or was there something deeper going on, some message from the unconscious; that this is no longer where I need to be. In all the bounces in my life, this has been the pattern. But as I have grown older, maybe wiser, in retrospect each bounce feels right, even inevitable. A rebirth, a chance to grow, to learn. And a leap into the dark, off a cliff, away from safety and security and complacency, into a not-knowing blind faith and trust in the goodness of being and becoming. If I have made mistakes (if?!) it’s more often been not letting go, clinging on to nurse for fear of something worse
Getting married.
In my 20s, I was the typical pseudo-intellectual hedonist who liked to bash the concept of marriage, point out the high divorce rates, speculate on the possibility of even higher infidelity rates, and generally treat dating culture like a selfish party where everyone is just out to get theirs. Marriage and family was crashing and burning and I reveled in dancing in the flames. I thought I was unique for being this way but really I was pretty common.
Maybe I was just afraid to keep getting hurt, especially when everything about modern dating culture promotes sex, money, and entertainment above genuine connections, mutual respect, and faithfulness. I got played in high school. Heartbroken in college. So at the dawn of my post-grad bachelorhood, I adopted a “when in Rome” attitude, erected an unassailable wall around my feelings, numbed myself with copious amounts of alcohol, and just decided to have fun.
By my late 20s, it was impossible to have fun this way. It took a once in a century pandemic to close down the bars and give me some time to reflect on things, and I was fortunate enough to find someone I could finally trust and open up to. I still wonder sometimes about how marriage and family will fare for society at large, but regardless of how that goes, I’ll try to carve out a good example for my own kids anyways.
Entirely unrelated to Austin visit, even with the Easter egg title... It sure does look like fun there. I understand vagabonding, never quite sure if it's nature, caprice, cowardice, curiosity or a mundane, listless jellyfishery. Working in mineral exploration, long weeks away with a week or two off became addictive. You're rarely anywhere long enough to get sick of anyone and when you leave you're sincerely fared well. Everything's always a bit novel, including you. But it's ethereal, you're never really anywhere. I've stopped, now. The town seems to be vaguely aware of it; people I've recognised for years are now recognising me. It's both heartening and frighteningly foreign.
I love what you're doing here, been lurking freely for a while and now wanna participate in this novel gathering. Consider all bells and buttons touched.
A goal of mine for the year is to tap into my creativity and create the space to do so. For me that means writing, for now. I have never granted the space I need to allow my creative side to flow. I have always felt a pull toward expressing myself through writing but never believed I had anything to say. At least anything to say that others would want to read anyway. So I have been writing, but only sharing it with my AA sponsor because most of what I have to say right now revolves around my personal recovery. So here I am, in this writing club, putting it out there to challenge my own comfort zone by sharing myself with other creative people and taking action in opposition to my fear of vulnerability.
I have a history of wallowing in painful places and circumstances way too long to avoid having to disrupt other people. My recovery has taught me that this is people pleasing behavior and I am learning to work through that harmful characteristic. But what has been most eye opening to me throughout this process is my ability to totally abandon myself for fear of being abandoned by others. I notice how I do this in all kinds of situations at work, at home, with friends and I am getting to see how crazy this makes me. What has made me even more crazy was the response of others when I refuse to jump my own ship. I am getting better about sticking to my guns when I have made a decision that I know is in my own best interest, but the blow back can be really hard sometimes. But I am so grateful to be stepping more fully into myself and not allowing fear to drive me to abandon Micah anymore.
Okay... Here I go... I am hitting POST!
I heard about a book years ago called The Gift of Fear. It is important to pay attention to that voice inside our hearts and minds. As Christians, we also refer to that voice as the Holy Spirit. It guides us the right way if we only listen to it.❤️
Assuming you have not already decided where to move... maybe you could have a "sell Bridget on your town?" contest? Just for fun?
Years ago, my oldest son wrote an autobiographical essay for school, where he wrote: " The most interesting thing about my mother is that she lied in a five boroughs of New York."
Let's get two things straight:
He misspelled "lived."
He was probably right.
What a gut punching mommy moment that was: My frequent relocation
was my defining act of cool?
At the time, I had been a writer at Playbill Magazine for going on two decades. I had directed hundreds of plays and taught almost a thousand students. I raised four boys (or was in the process of such,) I can write backwards and forwards simultaneously AND I can name almost any 80s tune in 2 notes.
If I sound like a defensive show off, do you blame me? My own KIDS who I BIRTHED were like, "Whatever" and "Dinner is gross can we order out?"
But the worse part of this commentary on my kid's school paper is that at its heart, he was on to something: The most interesting thing about my may be that I've lived in all five boroughs of New York and I still live in this $hithole I mean dump yard where lie the remains of the World Trase Center, along with American Exceptionalism.
I love that you're getting out of there.
The insanity if moving to Rhode Island 6 times in one year is pale compared to living in California let alone LA.
Godspeed
I'm so proud of you; I'm cheering! Yay! I'm beside you in spirit, sister. The turtle arrives (despite the rabbit, or something?) I trust your spirit to translate that while giggling at how much I sound like a fucking hippie. I used to have notes on hippies, but I was a child who thought (a) clue was a board game. 💜
Come back to Minnesota! Although it is a little crazy here too....