Metaphor

I believe I have taken a picture of this sign at the Oregon Country Fair every year I’ve been there. I love its color and texture. Will I have a schedule allowing my attendance there this summer?

I wonder what life is to bring me in the next few months. I have a temporary job and am furiously looking for a new one. My rental house is being sold out from under me. I have experienced rejection and displacement. I must find my way away from here, but what that means, exactly, I don’t know.

Right now, it seems that my total focus is looking for work. (Some might argue that blogging is right up there on my priority list, too.) The actual process of seeking a different domicile has not yet commenced, as I hope to combine that with a new job and city. I spend weekends preparing job applications, and every single vacation day doing interviews. My expanding list of physical symptoms of stress have led to regular doctor appointments, and now even more-frequent acupuncture treatments.

The scariest physical symptom I’ve experienced, so far, is the development, ten months ago, of tingling and numbness in my left foot and toes. If one can give any credence to the “illness as metaphor” perspective, then what interpretation might apply here?

I am numbed-out? I am unfeeling? Part of me is asleep? I am frozen? I am burning up inside? Part of me is dead? I am damaged? My nerves are frazzled? I’ve taken a misstep? I need to tread lightly? I need to walk away? I’ve stretched myself too far? I have a hole in my sole (soul)? I need to realign my qi? I need to find someplace warmer? I need someone to give me a foot massage?

What can this possibly be about?

Authenticity

Oftentimes, I truly struggle with the role in life that seems to be mine.

In relationship, I showed up: totally, passionately, and with great capacity for commitment. I lived, not merely played, the role of devoted partner, lover, friend, confidante, and care-giver. I loved deeply and had the expectation of being loved back proportionally.

Steadfast in my role, I kept hoping against hope that something would change. I anticipated that she would eventually discover, in this person, me, her mated soul.

Oh, I wanted: the joy of that discovery!

In this life, it seems I keep playing the role of the broken-hearted one. It was a constant theme that I was rejected, left to lick my emotional wounds, allow time for them to scar over, and then attempt the same uneven dynamic all over again.

How can two people be so close and yet so far apart? How can the universe be so cruel?

Today, everyday, I show up in an environment where I attempt to play a similar role. I find myself in another situation where there’s no commitment to me, yet I am expected to show up, perform, give my all, and care. I have been trying to play, at great personal cost, the role of a caring person in a dysfunctional, uncaring place.

Here’s the deal: I believe that I am an authentic individual. I am exhausted by the role of inauthenticity that this environment forces me to play.

I desire connectedness. Team play. Commitment. And, yes, love.

I continue to find myself in situations where those crucial, life-affirming forces are absent.

On and off stage, what I have to offer is my one-man act. Alone. I look around and the set is empty. Except for me.

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
William Shakespeare

Moment by Moment

Life does not wait: Whether we spend our lives meaningfully or not, the time will be used up moment by moment. – the Dalai Lama.

OK, I know what you’re thinking…first a song-lyrics phase, and now a quotations phase? Oh, well: this one caught my eye on the Quotidian Quotes page.

The above thought strikes a chord with me, of course, as I continue to question the meaningfulness of my life at the current time. I realize that I’m not, really, living in the present moment, but rather waiting for something else, presumably better, down the road. This is not much of a way to live and I know that. Is it within my power to change this state (other than totally changing my life)? Yes, I suppose it is. I am certain that things must be different than they are for me…but what if I’m wrong about what that looks like? What if it’s just my attitude that needs adjustment? I admit that that’s a possibility. (Yes, most of the time I believe it’s a remote one, but it’s a possibility nonetheless.)

This limbo-like state that I occupy these days is disorienting. I’ve never been so unsettled for so long…

…well, as I write that, I know that that’s not entirely accurate either. I was, for the whole of my 20s, in a condition that was barely emotionally survivable. I had chosen poorly in terms of a marriage partner, and spent nearly the entire ten years living with unhappiness & despair – and a variety of physical ailments (including chronic, debilitating tension headaches) that signaled, to anyone paying attention (though certainly not me at the time), the unsatisfactory condition of my life. I believed, truly believed, that I was not ever going to see my 30th birthday. When, on my 29th, I was still living and breathing, and it occurred to me that my personal lifespan assessment may have been in error, I started to make some radical changes. First, I weaned myself from the Valium habit I had developed (prescribed by a series of physicians for coping with my headaches), and then ultimately left the dysfunctional relationship that was at the root of my problems.

At that time, as I finally decided: what was called for was a radical reshaping of my life. I knew deep down (really, even through all the years of denial) that wholesale change was needed. And my life experience since then, and the several dramatic transitions that have been called for, has taught me to trust my judgment when I believe that change is necessary.

So, is an attitude adjustment in order? Definitely. But, on a higher-self level, I know that I must restructure this existence of mine in order to survive it.

Balance

I continue to struggle with my peripheral-neuropathy symptoms (tingling & numbness in my left foot and toes). I rather feel like a yo-yo in terms of the emotions that go along with all of this. Some days, I am almost “normal.” Other days, like today, totally unexplainably, I have symptoms that are more acute and I get depressed. I had an acupuncture treatment today, but it brought little relief. I requested that we get as aggressive as we possibly can with treatment, so we’ll see if anything will happen. As it stands now, I am, for the first time, “wearing” a few tiny magnets in my left ear (taped in on top of traditional acupuncture points) to see if this will help. This particular technique is a first for me.

Fortunately, my condition does not really limit me. It’s more nuisance-like than anything. So, given that it got up to a sunny 56 degrees this afternoon, I went for a walk through Mt. Tabor park – one of my favorite places here in SE Portland to take a stroll.

I came across a person recently who said, surprisingly, she “didn’t believe in acupuncture.” I really hadn’t heard anything like that from anyone in quite awhile, perhaps due to the company I typically keep. I haven’t necessarily ever thought about “believing” in acupuncture or not. The practice has been around at least 5,000 years, and though it’s considered “alternative” therapy here in this country, it is traditional Chinese medicine. I believe it is as legitimate as anything “western” medicine has to offer…it’s merely an option to explore. Once you can get past the idea of having a bunch of needles in your body (I know that’s difficult for some folks), it can actually seem quite “normal.” I was so relaxed during my session today that I went to sleep and, at one point, woke myself up with my snoring!

Let’s hope I can get my body’s energy force, qi, back in balance. [FYI: I’ve heard some variations in the pronunciation of qi, but am told that it roughly should be said “chee.” And, now that I’m trying to write about this, I am unable determine whether or not it should be capitalized: qi or Qi? I don’t know…]

Anyway: balance. That’s my goal.

Qi

At this point, as you know, I find myself in a position in life that’s pretty challenging. Wherever I turn, it seems, I am encountering instability, uncertainty, rejection, loss, and heartache. Love and appreciation, two terms I used in my last entry, are not universal elements that have been flowing my way. Chinese culture uses the term “qi” to denote “life force” or “spiritual energy.” My qi is in decline, I suspect. One small example: I’ve talked about the East Wind here as “spirit-sapping.” Then, on a more profound level, I’ve found myself showing up to a spiritually-bankrupt environment everyday for months now that, I know, has affected me to my core. To turn the corner on my spiritual (as well as my mental, physical & emotional) health, I know deep down that I need to make significant changes. I’m hoping that I can make this happen soon.

I’ve started to visit an acupuncturist. I haven’t done this for a few years, but I’ve begun again in a conscious attempt to alter the decline of my qi. As part of the treatment, my current practitioner uses moxibustion, “a traditional Chinese-medicine technique that involves the burning of mugwort (a small, spongy herb) to facilitate healing.” This practice has been used for thousands of years and, as with most forms of traditional Chinese medicine, is supposed to “strengthen the blood, stimulate the flow of qi, and maintain general health.” The symptoms of peripheral neuropathy I’ve been exhibiting for months motivated me to pursue this course; the physical-therapy techniques I tried, dead-ended. I’m hopeful that I can get back on track, health-wise, this way.