Daily Routines

Responding to "What Feminism Means to Me" by Vivian Gornick.

Of late, I've been trying to be content with what I have, with my family, with my home, with my friends, with my husband. I've been searching for meaning in my daily routines, as depression pours down on me.

Sadly, I think my mother's brother's death was the last straw that led me back on the path of major depression.

Happily, I am ready to deconstruct and heal myself from the inside out.

(page 372) "It remains one of life's great mysteries--in politics as well as in love--readiness: that moment when the elements are sufficiently fused to galvanize inner change. If you are one who responds to the moment you can never really explain, you can only describe what it felt like."

There are many fronts on which I am looking for peace. I am looking for peace within me, to accept who I am (who I've always been, but buried because others may not like me), to accept the partnership and relationship between me and my husband, to not overwhelm my children with my persnickety demands, to have friendships that aren't dependent upon my being happy.

And I know somehow that happiness can't be more than a side effect of my inner journey: to make it the point is like making orgasm the point of sex, dooming yourself to failure.

My journey has to be about reintegrating the rainbow of mes wandering around inside my inner landscape and learning how to navigate my world.

(page 375) "I understood that I would have to face alone the very thing my politics had been preparing me for all along. I saw what visionary feminists had seen for two hundred years: the power over one's own life comes only through the steady command of one's own thought."

My happiness can't come from without. It has to come from within. I have to chase away the doubts, the resentments, the loneliness, the fear, all the emotions that could block me from happiness, and I have to do that constantly (or, more accurate, recognize the negative emotion, study where it's coming from, and find a way to calm it). No one else can do it for me, it's as ridiculous as asking someone to go to the bathroom for you.

(page 376) "The daily effort became a kind of connection for me. The sense of connection was strengthening. Strength began to make me feel independent. Independence allowed me to think. When I thought, I was less alone. I had myself for company. I had myself, period. I felt the power of renewed wisdom."

Earlier this school year, I felt lonely on the mornings when it was just me and the baby. Lately, as I've stated before, I've taken a Zen approach to some of the daily chores, especially laundry, and doing the chores, blogging, and thinking have all helped me overcome the despair I might find when lonely. My contentment with being alone in turn makes it easier to spend time with others. I no longer depend on them to stop my loneliness. Because I don't expect them to rescue me from myself, I can appreciate others more for who they are.

(page 376) "...life is an endlessness of 'remembering' what I already knew."

I have already overcome depression, because my depression came in cycles throughout my life. I know I will heal. I know I will overcome this again. I just need to remember how. I'm on my way.

There is another thing I know, that makes this depression different. I have not had the suicide ideation and urges that came with my previous depressions. I am not plotting the death of anyone close to me either. I knew (somewhere, somehow) that I didn't have to go down that path. I remembered not to take it.

Zen Minded

Responding to “An Immodest Proposal” by Heather Corinna.

(page 183) “This is a world where women still frequently are not asked for consent, are often raped or coerced, still engage in sex with partners out of feelings of duty or obligation, usually have our sexuality depicted in grossly inaccurate ways by men and other women alike, and independent female sexual desire and earnest sexual enjoyment are not only disbelieved, in some circles, but are even ‘scientifically’ contested.”

According to some scientists, the orgasms I have should come from clitoral stimulation rather than penetration, while other scientists would say that penetrative orgasms are the only true orgasms out there. Happily, enough real science has been done to recognize that there are trends, rather than absolutes, for what brings women to orgasm. Truth is, I'm not particularly fond of clitoral stimulation, though it generally feels better when I'm already rather aroused. If I'm not aroused enough, it's just an irritation.

The attitude that women get pleasure through a set script of movements while women who have a different route to pleasure (like enjoying threesomes) are aberrant is one of the reasons I remain anonymous. I don't want to be labeled a slut.

I'm contemplating expectations and their impact on my life right now. Some of my happiest moments have been when I've felt I've failed completely and it no longer mattered what anyone else's expectations may be. I relaxed and allowed myself to pursue my own desires. I don't have sex out of duty or obligation, because it isn't worthwhile. Have I ever had sex because it seemed expected? Yes. I'm an absolute failure at pretending to enjoy it.

(page 185) “In Zen Buddhism, we aim for beginner’s mind, a way of thinking in which we approach all we can with the freshest eyes and few preconceived notions. The unknown can make us fearful, but the opportunity to have an unknown, to be able to approach something completely anew, is a gift.”

I've recently decided to attempt a more Zen approach to life, though I worry that it will keep me complacent, accepting too much. I'm trying to be more content with whatever I'm doing, staying in the now. I also worry that it will make me dissatisfied, unable to stay content in the moment and wanting more to be an activist for things that I might be able to change. I'm not sure yet, but I think it's just nerves about trying something new.

Truthfully, I could be getting a Taoist and a Zen approach confused, as I have formal training in neither.

I've mostly succeeded in Zen laundry this week. The process of laundry is an unending chore, and I can't escape it. I could refuse to do it, but not having clean clothes to wear is just frustrating. Relying on others to do laundry for me hasn't worked, so I needed to step up and do it myself. I can't change it, so I've got to adapt to it.

Now my laundry frustration is once again solely the mismanagement of putting clean clothes away by my children. I hope I can continue in my acceptance of laundry, rather than getting involved in whatever else I may want to do at that moment, which just leads to resentment.

I suppose that I'm trying to be more conscious of what I can and cannot change, and refusing to expend energy fighting that which simply is not going to change, that I do not have the power to change. For example, I can't change anyone else. I can lead by example, changing myself. I can attempt to persuade others through the power of my words, building a bridge of commonality and hopefully getting them to question their own assumptions. But ultimately all I have power over is me.

Meditations Towards Happiness

I've begun to read Succulent Wild Woman: Dancing With Your Wonder-Full Self! by Sark. It's actually a bit fluffy for me, but I need a pick-me-up. I've been mired in depression for weeks, and I've lost my perkiness.

(page 14) "It isn't easy for any of us to transcend the past, or pain we might have suffered. Yet, there are gifts in those pains, and we can choose to let light into the dark places. We are not alone!"

The whole point of this blog and of seeking therapy was to shine light into the dark places of my memory, the dark unexposed parts of my soul. And it's harder than I thought it would be. The pains feel almost fresh, and some of them have been ripening for a long time.

(page 10) "My own journey is full of fear, pain, love, shame, wonder, ecstasy, luck, daring, and marvelous imperfections."

I took a journey through my psyche and found a series of me trapped in an MC Escher drawing, climbing a ring of stairs only to find myself once again on the bottom. How can I go up and up but never get anywhere? So I took drastic action in my mind, and bent and tore that picture open. At first there was only a void in the opening created by ripping the picture, but then it filled with a flight of butterflies. I don't know what the butterflies hide, but I'm not scared to find out anymore.

(page 11) "I invite you to travel along with me as I share my stumblings, astonishments, and discoveries as a woman."

I invited a handful of friends to travel with me through this. I hope we all survive the journey, because it's already proven to be a painful one for me. While I try to spare everyone the full force of my anger, the rage that this journey has revealed in me, I have been unable to fully shield everyone. I have already hurt feelings while trying to just keep myself together. I'm sure I'll hurt more. The journey isn't going to be comfortable all of the time, that's just the way healing is. Sometimes the wounds have to be reopened, cleaned, and then scored so that the edges can bleed together and reknit. And that means pain.

(page 13) "I guess I look bright and untroubled, and I smile a lot, which is sometimes a mask to hide shyness, fear, or pain."

I learned to mask myself with a smile a long, long time ago. I was not allowed to show my pain as a child. After all, I was a white, middle-class girl from a respectable family, and dammit if I was unhappy then I should just count my blessings and stop feeling sorry for myself. After all, what would the neighbors think?

And the whole time I was living with the person who molested me, whom my parents refused to believe did so. I was forced to eat dinner sitting right next to him, which was actually probably better than across from him, having to look at him while I ate. I could instead imagine an invisible forcefield between us, so he couldn't pollute my space. I would push his chair as far away from mine as possible, and do my best never to have him in my field of vision, though I couldn't stop smelling him. Ick.

Even now I hide behind a smile most of the time, and it can be shocking for people when they realize that my smiles sometimes have tone, and not happy ones at that. I can be aggressively perky when I'm annoyed or angry, my smile more a baring of teeth and my enthusiasm little more than a snarl. My smiles can be anxious or scared or panicked while I do my best to keep myself calm and in control.

(page 13) "I do not know more than you do. My investigations have shown that we frequently think others know IT but we don't know IT.
"What is IT?"

I don't know what IT is, but I'm looking to be a more content, more calm, more connected person. In some ways, I'm looking to be more Zen about things. I'm looking to be a healed, healthy, whole person whose mind doesn't have chasms. I'm looking to stop being numb all the time. I want love, peace, and happiness. I don't know how to be happy on a regular basis.

According to Sark, I'm looking to be a more succulent woman.

(page 5) "Succulent: Ripe. Juicy. Whole. Round. Exuberant. Wild. Rich. Wide. Deep. Firm. Rare. Female."

I'm not sure what it all means yet.