This morning, waking up in my new space in Oakland, I felt the potential for a good day right away; Rachel and I were still horizontal and she pointed out my new window and said; "look at that patch of blue". I did look, because I couldn't resist the idea of a blue sky after a few days of temperamental clouds unwilling to get out of the way of the sun, the air, the spaceward expanses, etc.And after we had looked out at it and felt it's influence for a few moments, and then after she rolled out of bed and got ready to go to class, I panicked. I laid still for a few minutes and before I knew what was happening, I felt the woosh of a metal grate slamming shut on my mood potential for the day. There was no real reason for this; yet there were plenty of reasons for this, and they were getting in, breaking into my head, stripping me of ease. Over the past few years one of the things that has been hardest for my human body to come to grips with is an undeniable truth; I have acquired the capacity for an unhealthy overabundance of anxiety.
Inwardly, at any moment, I am worried about something. And more often then not, it isn't the kind of worry that I felt as a child or the kind of worry my mom or peers seem to experience. it doesn't really ever go away; it turns. It is linked, at all time, to all the other potential thoughts about all the things that could go wrong/are wrong. I can't stand existing in this peripheral experience. When it is activated, I feel purposefully excluded from my nature by a part of me that is going for isolation, disconnect, scarcity, loneliness, self-righteousness.
I had to talk myself down this morning. I imagine sometimes that this elevated state of panic is a tree that I get climb up somehow, and when I look back down, the trunk is devoid of knobs, holes and branches, and trying to get down is too much to think about. I have to continuously believe that I am doing an okay job and I can get down if I want to.
And the point of this scrawl is:
I have a small yet thriving ant population in my new room, and to be more specific, on my desk. So when I am looking at all of the jobs on craigslist this morning, mad at myself for trying to find SOMETHING, ANYTHING and not THE thing that I want, and yaddayaddayaddastressstress- and I look to see these ants ascending and descending my things...my books and my hands like there is nothing to it and I see them as little heroes. I became completely motivated by their focus on what's (literally) in front of their noses (someone draw me an ant nose please). That ant there--the one flitting across my notebook is uninfluenced by what it already climbed over and doesn't have the foresight to process the next thing up ahead because damnit, it's busy climbing this one.
I want to foster the ant perspective- unafraid to be engrossed in what's present and to be (rationally) unafraid of things beyond that. My face grows red with the forcefulness of my inability to deal with what may happen. Which is a major motif in my life currently. I just landed in a new town, filled with some people I do know, but faced with the task of carving myself out in a new relief. I think it''s time to come down from the tree and be caught, preferably by myself, with some help, from my friends? (and licensed therapists) (I find vague statements masquerading as main points is a healthy way to end the beginning of a conversation with myself.)
Well, okay, with that being said, here's to taking showers and putting a pair of wheels between your legs- I'm off to do what I do best in Oakland so far- pedaling the pavement and handing out resumes, talking in potentialities. HIRE ME <3
