Pooh is Piglet’s perfect partner. His carefree whims balance Piglet’s neurotic panic attacks. It works for Piglet. I’m not sure if it works for Pooh. But in any case, how does anyone find the perfect pairing? And what’s important in keeping that relationship working? My own experience has shown me that I’m not easily satisfied, that I’m constantly seeking something better and constantly finding fault. Could my problem with finding a mate be simply a matter of adjusting my expectations? If so, which ones should be adjusted? I am all questions, no answers.

Today I’m filled with a little regret and disgust with myself.  Ho hum.  Why is it sometimes so difficult to follow what my own heart wants?  Why is it that each simple urge seems to pass through everyone else’s filter and morph into a different desire before I even understand what’s happened?

I’m having a difficult time figuring out how to navigate my own path and what’s even more confusing to me is the question of why…why is it so difficult.

“We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.”  ~André Berthiaume, Contretemps

So another year is passing…what have I learned?  I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn…that I’m lacking in the basic skill of knowing how to do what I want to do.

Let me try to turn this around, since this blog is supposed to be positive.  How do I get closer to what I want?

– Identify it.

– Plan for it.

– Do it.

Alright already.

When do you decide to break ties with someone who seems to be bringing you down?

Today I’m feeling like I have to bust out my acting chops (of which I have none) and interview.  The dreaded interview.  I cringe at the thought sometimes of having to prove to people that I’m worth being paid.  Because sometimes I’m not sure I am.  So really.  How am I supposed to convince others?

Aahh.  I’m hoping that instead of swimming in disgust I’ll come out of this with a cool head to just get the job done.  Having a mortgage changes how I think about my expenditures.  I just want the good ol’ days back, so to speak.

Argh!  Can’t stand my own writing.

So lately I’ve been consumed with making different decisions…about my career, my love life…somehow these decisions seem to be more important now that I’m in my mid-thirties.  I wish I’d used my younger years to make more mistakes; it seems that only as I’ve gotten older that I’ve wised up to my options and have become courageous enough to explore them.

Mistakes are so fun to make!!  Will I be reading this in my 40s and wishing I had made even more mistakes?  Or wishing I’d known better.  Argh!

I suppose it’s easier when you have nothing to lose.

Today I was woken up by a call from a good friend.  She reminded me that I’m worrying about too many things at once, that things happen when they’re meant to happen, that I have time to make the wrong decisions, and that, sometimes you just have to enjoy existing.  And you know, if Einstein saw it, it must be true.

I love me some Albert Einstein.  Really.  I mean, how could you not?  All right.  That was random.

So today, I am, obviously (ha ha) on a mad dash to finish moving.  It’s becoming clearer to me that I have no clue where I’m headed…except for my next address.  And for today, that’s OK, because that’s all I can handle anyway.

I’m excited.  About meeting new people.  About a new career, whatever it is.  About being who I want to be…and letting it happen…all in due time.

I’m not sure if I agree with this quote, but it’s helping me to get past the disappointment of being let down by a “talker”. It seems that in the world of romance, the talkers are the ones that sweep me off my feet, break down my walls, and then stomp all over the tender insides that those walls protected. The hurt doesn’t last for long because I realize later that the wounds are superficial. All the vicious stomping was in the same dream sequence that the talker’s words inhabited.

Somehow, it’s the ones that hold back, frugal in their praise, that keep me frustrated and leave a dull ache that never seems to go away.

That’s it for now. This is one for my journal, not the blog. argh!

Today I’ve been battling my own demons while packing up to move to our new place.  There’s something strangely liberating about starting afresh but also sadly unsettling about reshuffling memories.  This latest move reminds me of my move to California, a crazy fresh start to bring me closer to what I thought I wanted while clearing away the cob webs of a broken relationship.

The problem I find is that the relationship may not have been broken.  It may have been me.  That relationship, complete with a home by a babbling brook and blissfully ignorant quacking ducks, was a lesson in love for sure.  There’s no doubt our relationship was built on some kind of love, but it was also built on codependence and some other measures of dysfunction.  I’m grappling with repairing the problems it uncovered in me.  Why can’t I give?  Why am I determined to live in the shadows some days?  What’s so damn difficult about enjoying life?  Shouldn’t it be enough to wake up in the morning, have breakfast waiting for you, step outside to enjoy the sound of your dog barking at the ducks in your backyard pond?  Why was that not enough?  More importantly, why am I happier now and can I sustain this?

These last few weeks I’ve been confronted with the possibility of repairing another broken relationship, and I’m finding the task to be a daunting one.  If your emotions have always been blocked in a relationship, does it mean they’ll always be blocked?  How much does the beginning of a relationship indicate how the continuation of it will be?

Perhaps it’s time to move on.  It’s difficult to step out of yet another relationship without wondering what it is that I’m searching for and if I’ll ever find it.

Because the work of a project manager can be stressful at times, I got attached to the notion of being a patent agent for a bit.  My friend had made it seem effortless to make decent money and stay professional.  I studied…for maybe a second…and then gave up as soon as I felt like there may not be a job market for this line of work.

It turns out that there is.  Another friend just told me that they’re hiring patent agents.  Too bad I haven’t been studying.

So why the random ramble about this?  I’m just starting to realize how my indecision is costing me.  And I’m also, maybe less so, realizing how talking about what you want and taking those baby steps when you need to, puts you closer to your goal.  I think I’ve forgotten that it takes work to get there.  Somehow while growing up it’d become an autopilot option to go to school and get a job that makes money.  I don’t think I’ve ever learned how to go for what I want.  It’s an important lesson.  I’m not sure how other people have learned it, and I feel like an idiot for just starting to turn the page on this chapter in my life.  And even so, I do it with indecision.  How do people move confidently into their futures without vacillating between choices?

Talk amongst yourselves.  I’m still lost, but getting there slowly.  One of these days….

It’s occurred to me that the minute I set a goal, problems emerge.  The goal itself energizes me and pumps me up, but I have a self-defeating tendency to agonize over the goal’s consequences while rehashing endlessly how closely I’ve met the goal.  After I’ve effectively gnashed my teeth into a pulpy mess, I conclude that I must not care about the goal enough to give it the time and attention it needs.  I then withdraw to my little hole of self defeat and cease my bout of dreaming.

Why all this drama? I think it comes down to plain ol’ laziness on my part.  I’ve started to realize over time that laziness has its rewards.  You get to wallow in your agony and complain to whoever will listen about your valiant efforts to be who you are not.  This is comforting for a while.  People who will indulge your whining help to soften the blow of existence when waking up everyday is a challenge.  But in the end…it’s simply not worth it.