My 93 year old grandfather died last night. He was a WW2 vet, an actual “Lineman for the County” back in the late 50’s, an industrial installer for Ma Bell working specifically in site specific maintenance on aerospace applications in the 60’s and 70’s ….. today’s equivalent of a Network Administrator.
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I still went to my normal Wednesday night dance last night. It was a great dance. As we were leaving the ballroom, a new male friend gave me a hug and asked how I was. I told him about my wife’s birthday and grandfather’s death. He very beautifully said that getting to know me, he can imagine how wonderful my wife must have been, and that he would have liked to meet her. For some reason, that triggered a huge wave of grief that had been bubbling on the surface all day. In the middle of a crowded room, I exploded with tears. He held space for me. I am grateful for his friendship.
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I had a good, long talk with WWW last night. It seems we both were not communicating well together last weekend, and both of us misunderstood each other.
Without getting into the nitty-gritty details, the group of guys I was told about are EX- boyfriends that she remained friends with, in non-sexual relationships. The guy she had a date with (that she cancelled) this week was somebody she has been seeing for a month or so. When it all comes down to the final answer, she has just been dating people. Dating much like people in the 50’s did. Some teenage groping in the backseat every once in a while, some slow getting to know a few people…normal dating stuff.
I feel I over-reacted to some partial information, and she reacted to me. We both acknowledged we got a little prickly with each other. We plan on some more dates. I would like to further explore how my stuff interacts with her stuff.
Whew! Volatile life! I'm just winging it, and this experiment with WWW may crash and burn, but I owe it to myself to at least try.
I went on a buying spree for building materials last night. Gathered up enough materials to generate a bill that equals three and one-half months’ worth of take home pay. I was nauseous as we went over the list. The funny thing is, we didn’t end up buying any of it. My General Contractor didn’t get the price break he wanted, so we walked out of the store. Apparently these stores will wheel and deal a lot more with the contractors. But we did get a full list of items we need, and I got a taste of what it will really cost when we pull the trigger on buying all of it. The list didn’t include any appliances, and I am going to order kitchen cabinets today that will cost about 1.5 months’ worth of salary. Wow. Nice cabinets though!
I’ve gotten past the point of freaking out about the cost. I will be (already am) broke, but I won’t need to do anything more to the house except general upkeep. I’m also splurging on the initially expensive high-efficiency LED lighting so my utility cost should stay fairly low. I still think I’ve done the right decision on the house.
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I wasn’t able to make it to my regular Wednesday night dance class last night, and I really missed it. They have Ecstatic Dance in most major cities in North America. Sometimes it is called Soul Motion Dance. Usually the dances are held in yoga studios as they have nice open floors and usually a sound system. I’ve often thought how much fun it would be to travel the countryside in an RV and rent space in dance studios, grange halls, or old ballrooms to hold a dance in some small town. All it takes is 5-6 people, a decent speaker system, and my laptop pre-loaded with the music. I could easily imagine a modest cover charge that would pay the space rental cost. It would have to be pretty small towns though. A quick Google search for “ecstatic dance”, “soul motion” or “5rhythms” will probably bring up something near you.
What I find interesting about these dances, is the kind of people that go to them. I have met doctors and construction workers. I have met a nationally ranked Mixed Martial Arts Fighter. I met an older man with crippled legs that danced on crutches. I’ve met young families with small children that run around interacting with everyone. And you know something? It is also interesting in who I Don’t meet at these events. There seems to be a self-regulating process that weeds out the people that don’t have good intentions at the dance. These people may come once, but they seldom come back until they are ready to interact with the other dancers with respect. I find it amazing.
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I have another date with The Woo Woo woman tonight. I seem to be drawn towards her quietness. It’s different than the quietness of Blind Date woman.
I also don’t think Woo Woo is actually looking for “a relationship” in the standard sense. I get the impression she would like to hang out with me, but she would also want the freedom and space to hang out with whomever she pleases. This might be another good transition for me.
On Friday night I went to a special Contact Improv Dance Jam at a different studio that I have never been to before. It was very strange. When I first got there, I was the youngest person in the room. I was happy though, to recognize a few faces from some of the other dance activities I frequent.
The facilitator then had us sit in a circle and handed out blindfolds. Yup, blindfolds. It was voluntary to wear them, but since I was in for a penny, I went in for a pound and wore the blindfold. I was a bit creeped out for the first 20-30 minutes. The improv dance was nothing like what I had previously experienced. I was used to standing up, meeting a fellow dancer with eye contact to gauge approachability, keeping some distance for a few minutes as we moved together, and perhaps moving closer as we both agree to the terms of the dance.
With blindfolds on, we stayed on the ground, with a strange random slow feeling and rolling around action. It was rather like a bunch of horny old people indiscriminately groping each other. I wasn’t actually groped or fondled in inappropriate areas, but the “feeling” of it was quite strong, especially in the first 20 minutes or so. Several times a got on my knees in Child’s Pose and just pushed myself backwards out of the circle to give myself some space. The facilitator was really great in checking in with me to gauge my comfortability level.
Once I eased myself into it, and let go of some fears, it was actually quite nice. And it was quite sensual as I rolled around on the floor with a rather sexy woman maybe five years my senior. It’s difficult to guess though, as I look about 10 years younger than I actually am. I accidentally took home the blindfold, so I need to go back again…. You know…. Just to return the blindfold.
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And If I thought Friday night was strange…….
After a nice breakfast with my hiking partner and picking out paint samples for the house, I met with a fellow dancer friend for coffee. She invited me to a party later that night, and since she lives so far out of town, we decided to hang out early.
The party. It was quite crazy. It was a dress-up party with an Alice in Wonderland theme. I got the memo late that it was a dress up party, so I went as a character from before Alice went into the looking glass and down the rabbit hole…. Just normal street clothes.
There were many people from the dance community here. I recognized more than a dozen faces….people I have danced with, but never actually spoken to. It was really fun, and making new connections has been one of my goals this year. It was great to put some names and voices to faces. The crowd itself is very warm and welcoming, although perhaps a bit higher on the woo woo and Burning Man scale than I normally would hang out with.
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Sunday morning found me at my regular dance class, along with many of the people from Friday and Saturday night. The good morning Hello’s were more frequent, the hugs a little warmer. It was very nice.
They played the Brother Iz song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" during the dance. As soon as the opening notes were strummed on the ukulele, the emotion was too great. I had to leave the room. I sat in the foyer listening to the music, and hearing the hundreds of voices singing along. We played this song at my wife's memorial service. The name of the album this song is on is called "Facing Future". It was one of her favorite albums the last year of her life.
And at the end of the dance, a fellow dancer invited me to a new Men’s Group that was having its second meeting on Monday night. Of course I said I would go.
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I had already arranged to take Monday off work so I could get some building materials and design decisions made on the house. Found some awesome discontinued tile for only $0.38 per square foot. Enough to tile quite a bit of the basement. The day went by too quickly but I am feeling better about the house.
Yes, the house is bleeding me dry, but it will look great and I will be able to get roommates in pretty quickly after it is finished. I think I have made peace with the process…at least this week.
Monday night arrived it was time to head to the address listed for the Men’s Group. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The group lists over 45 members. When I got there, I was the only the 3rd person to show up. There eventually were 8 men.
The meeting went well enough, for strangers getting to know each other. The facilitator kept things moving well, and there were great topics that were brought up. I will be going back again.
My life is good, and I should be good with that.
Israel "IZ" Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwoʻole "Over the Rainbow" and "What a Wonderful World"
I’m starting to feel better about the house remodel.
We are replacing all of the gray water drainage pipes in the house. The existing pipes were almost plugged with disgusting sludge because the pipes were installed without enough slope to let liquid drain properly. The basement walls have one coat of DryLok paint on them, and soon will have another. We see that water is still leaking into the basement though. We need to concentrate on the outside ground before we frame anything in the basement.
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I have a date on Thursday. A woman that I dance with came up to me the other day and asked me for a date. I said yes, and we will have a nice meal at one of my favorite Vietnamese restaurants that serves traditional “street vendor style” food. I have met this woman once before, at a friend’s birthday party. She actually has been around my new circle of friends for a very long time, and I have just never connected with her at any of the large gatherings.
She might be a bit woo woo for me, but a friendly date that could turn into a nice friendship is not unwelcome.
My new goal for myself though, is to go on a date with someone that I have approached, not with someone that has approached me, or a blind date. The few women I have been on dates with since my wife died have all approached me in some form or another. I really feel that ecstatic dance, and the contact improvisation dance jam, is helping me get the self-esteem and self-worth to encourage myself to be bold.
There is a woman at the contact improv that I would like to ask out on a date. I found out she has a child, so I automatically wanted to remove her from the dating pool. That’s just another excuse I can tell myself instead of gathering the courage to ask her out. It’s just a date, not a wedding proposal.
You Can Dance... For Inspiration - first line from Madonna's song "Into the Groove"
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Best. Massage. Ever.With FEET! like as in toes, and heels and arches, and balls of the foot!
Seriously. I’ve had a massage almost continuously every 6-8 weeks for the last 20 years from a multitude of massage therapists. This was the best I’ve ever had. I may need to switch every other massage with this. I’ve been seeing the same massage therapist for about 6 years, so I’m not willing to switch completely.
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Tonight, I’m going to that new (new to me) dance class called Contact Improv. It will be interesting to see if it is as much fun the second time. I bought some lightweight kneepads, (the kind cheerleaders use) to help as I bang around on the hardwood floor.
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I’ve written about guilt a few times in past posts. The guilt that my life is moving forward in a really positive way that may not have happened when my wife was alive. Our life was fairly idyllic together. We had no real pressing wants or needs. We were able to float through life with the happy acceptance of everything.
When my wife died, and I had to look closer within myself to keep from going crazy, the guilt started to build. I was expanding myself, opening myself to look deeper. With the unrealistic thought of how horrible I was not to dig deeper and open wider with the relationship with my wife. What did I miss out on with her? What did I deny her of knowing? The guilt that our incredibly beautiful and loving relationship could possibly have been even better. Yes, unrealistic feelings. We had a wonderful relationship that was extremely fulfilling for both of us. I am thankful and blessed for our lives being intertwined.
The main water pipe coming into the house had a slow leak right at the foundation, keeping everything wet, but not enough leaking enough to noticeably see it through the sheetrock or flooring. We found it only because I wanted a whole house water filter installed. We’ve ripped out one room of the basement already, and will open up a few more walls.
The concrete foundation is solid and looks good. We think the mold problem is a result of how the basement was framed in. They used 2X6 boards right up against the concrete, with heavy duty insulating foam board tightly glued to the wall and packed between the studs . We think they sealed it up too air-tight so there was nowhere for the normal moisture and humidity to go from the concrete foundation wall.
We may rip out all of the 2X6 boards and replace with metal studs and standard insulation held away from the wall for some breathing space, after we seal the wall.
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Last night, I went to a “contact” style of dance. It was very physical and challenging. My body is very sore today. The gist of it is you lean into a partner as they lean into you, moving gently with the flow.
We touch shoulders and just leaned in, each slowly moving in opposite circles like two cogs in a machine. We locked arms and leaned back as a matter of trust. We rolled on the floor, putting our full weight on each other. There was pseudo leg wrestling. There were human pyramids. There were simple gymnastic and acrobatic moves against each other.
It was kind of like slow motion wrestling, but without the aggression of trying to “win” anything or end up in any particular position.
The dance was filled with men and women, with no distinction for a dance partner. I did find the movement with other men was a bit harder and physical, gently testing each other’s strength and balance constantly. Dancing with the women was much slower and smoother, sensual without being sexual. At times there were three or four people moving together in a big pile. At one point a woman that was well into her 60’s laid on her back as her feet balanced my hips, and her arms supported my shoulders….I floated in the air supported by her strength. Amazing feeling of floating and letting go.
Why am I doing something like this? Because I long for touch. I long for connection. The dance builds my confidence, raises my self-esteem, allows me to see myself as a beautiful and desirable human being.
Went to a birthday party Saturday night. They were having a round of performances by the guests. These performances are usually somebody strumming a guitar and singing a song, a poem recital, or a monologue. I’ve never joined in before, as fear and insecurity keep me from standing up in a crowd. Except for karaoke. I can sing the stupidest songs at the drop of a hat… but that is a structured thing. I stand and sing a known song, following a guideline of the bouncing ball on the screen. My attention is not on the audience, but rather the TV monitor.
So the birthday girl wouldn’t take no for an answer, and requested that I do “something”. There was plenty of time to freak out….I didn’t know most of these people. What the hell was I supposed to do? … I could sing a song! But what song? And without backup music? Fear set in.
I turned to this blog.
Perhaps this would be the perfect time to lay bare some of my inner thoughts with these people. Most of them don’t know I’m widowed. Maybe that would be a downer for a birthday party if I talked about grief and death.
I finally figured out what I would do, right as they called my name to stand up in front of the crowd.
There were a few monologues already, and they were well received. I decided to just read verbatim my post onMy First Horror Movie Experience.
The crowd loved it. I loved it. I found myself filled with intensity as I delivered the lines. It was light-hearted and delivered like a stand-up comedy routine. There was the rush I feel at the karaoke bar, only better, as this was of my own doing. My own thoughts. My own writing.
The response was overwhelming. Afterwards people were asking if I had actually written it, if it was a true story. One of the people that had delivered a monologue earlier asked me if I normally do that sort of thing, as she was a speaking/debate teacher and thought I did a great job, saying I was a natural if that really was my first time. Wow! That felt great! Another person asked if I was in local theater!
I realize they might have just been overly generous with their accolades, but boy-howdy, it was nice.
There was also a woman at the birthday party that I had previously met at Ecstatic Dance. Seems she facilitates a dance workshop that involves free-form partner dancing….. Kind of hard to explain, but it is a very physical partner dance where people sort of “roll” over each other, lifting their weight, and just basically interacting with the body of the other person. Think of a close partner interpretive modern dance routine and that is sort of what this woman helps teach.
I have watched people do this dance, and I have tried a bit myself. It is much harder than it looks. I have plans to go for the first time on Tuesday night.
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The young widows and widowers dinner group was Sunday night, and again I felt a disconnect. I started to mini-facilitate with questions and statements bout grief, but quickly stopped and let other people lead the discussion. The topics quickly gravitated towards the food.
After the dinner, I spent a good 30 minutes in the car of the original organizer. She is ready to give up the group as well. I think it is time for both of us.
Dinner with the organizer of the young widows and widowers dinner group went better than expected. We talked a lot about how very different we are now, since our partners died. Almost unrecognizable in the difference. Validation with each other that our lives are indeed moving forward. Guilt and awe, realizing our spouses would be shocked at how much we have changed. And also that horrifying realization that we would be hard pressed to fit back into that life. It's a difficult thing to admit that life is good. Life is happy.
There is still that dark hole deep in my soul, but the screaming mournfulness has subsided into gentle sadness of beautiful memories.
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Half of the siding has been torn off the house, and there is some good looking wood underneath. The insulation that was blown in has turned out not to be the expanding foam, but rather loose-fill fiber. No surprises yet, and everything so far is very smooth.
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Ecstatic Dance was again a beautiful thing last night. I found myself open to people and afterwards I stuck around to socialize a bit. There was even an offer to get some food, and I joined them. The interesting part is during the meal, I reverted back to my very quiet and reserved self. I didn't speak much, but listened intently. I was the newcomer in the midst of a group of old friends, so I don't think my quietness was noticed much.
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I had a massage tonight, and my massage therapist vocalized about how much weight I've lost. I hadn't really noticed it myself, but after I got off the table, I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my unclothed body. My stomach is noticeably smaller, and the double chin action is not quite so pronounced!
Ecstatic Dance is more than just a physical exercise for me.
It is encouraging me to interact with people I normally would not interact with. Pushing my boundaries of acceptable closeness with people of all ages and differences. I find myself dancing sensuously with older women , aggressively with younger men , and playful joy with everyone in between.
Building a quiet self-esteem in my body, in my desirability towards others, giving me confidence to open up at the end of the dance and let my voice be heard by others. At 44 years old, I feel like I am just now beginning to learn how to communicate.
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I have a friend coming to look at the house today as a possible short term renter.
She is looking for 5-6 months at the most. I really hope she likes the place and moves in. She is about 10 years younger than I, and has a beautiful voice and also plays guitar. Selfishly, I think it would be great to have her as a renter, as she would introduce me to a different crowd. She is the woman that was holding the singer/songwriter soirée events. We could start to have them at my place!
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Going against some good advice, I am having dinner with Super Bowl woman on Sunday.
I would just like to acknowledge my attraction to her, and also keep up that boundary and not try to move anything forward more than good friends. I think we both realize we are too different for each other. She has a very strong intensity that is very desirable, yet I know that intensity doesn’t work well with me. And from a previous discussion with her, she is not one to be a friend with benefits…and I really don’t think I could be one of those either.
I have a reluctance to move any items into the new house. What is my hesitation?
The new path. The shift. The physical act of moving further away from my wife’s death. Acknowledging I have a new life. The unrealistic but very real guilt I feel at having this new life. How dare I enjoy this life. How dare I actually admit I feel like I am a better person since she died. All foolishness, I know.
Before my wife died, we talked about her expectations for my life after she was gone. She wants me to remarry. I have permission to be happy. I just need to accept it.
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It was a weekend full of parties. Literally.
On Friday I had dinner with my mentor and with a beautiful and amazing woman who was also a complete train wreck. A very successful business owner that divulged a large amount of very horrific personal information. The three of us had a great dinner, and I was both enthralled with this woman and reluctant to spend any more time with her. In my younger years, I would have pursued her with wild abandon with disastrous results. At the end of the night, she said something that really touched me. She said she felt comfortable about sharing her story with me. She said I had a gentle and un-judging nature, She had assumed I was a counselor or therapist… a colleague of my mentor. She invited us to a “Burning Man” type of party for Saturday night, with a theme of “glitter and sparkles”.
Saturday morning found myself up early to hit a couple of second hand clothing thrift stores for some glittery clothing. I found a black sequined blouse that looked vaguely masculine, so I ripped the shoulder pads out, threw on some shiny black tights and some short black athletic shorts and I was set.
Went to lunch with my father, and showed him the new house. He really liked it.
The first party of the night was a 41st birthday party for a friend early Saturday evening. Another small business owner that I have gone out on a date with a few times. I’ve known her for about 3 years. I would like to spend more time with her, but she has put some clear boundaries between us for dating. She has made it clear we can be wonderful friends, but that is it. But I constantly seem to be getting mixed messages from her.
I left her birthday party and made my way across town to the “Burner” gathering. These are a fun and crazy bunch. Very artistic and colorful. Not really my scene, but fun every once in a while. Saw the beautiful train wreck woman that had invited us, and once again, she thanked me for being open to her story and reiterated that she thought I would be a great counselor or “Life Coach”.
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Sunday morning found me with a hangover, but I still got myself up to sweat it out at Ecstatic Dance. The theme for the dance was “Happy” and it was a very happy dance right up until the end. As a tribute, they played Etta James’ At Last. This song was played at our wedding (along with millions of others weddings) and I immediately left the dance floor with tears streaming down my face. I gave myself a few moments, wiped my eyes, and slowly walked back into the room and closed my eyes and gently moved back and forth to the song. The darkness moving through me. Quickly dissipating.
And then the Superbowl party! The birthday girl from the previous night was there. We are very touchy feely. She will initiate contact with a hand on my back, of a pull of my hand in hers. Quite conflicting information for me. After the game ends, and after she had a few Adult Beverages, she exclaims to me in front of a few close friends of ours, that “everyone thinks we should be together” and that she should be “open to a relationship with me”.
I was a bit taken aback with this publicly made statement, and we casually made our way to a more private area to talk. We didn’t resolve much, but we did agree to get together again (without Adult Beverages).
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Am I keeping myself this busy so I don’t have time to think about moving into the new house? Probably.
I took a friend to the Ukulele band on Friday night. It was a really wonderful time, as the opening band was a great County Western Swing band, in the style of Bob Wills. Damn, but that kinds of music is just plain good.
The friend I took is the owner of a vintage clothing store and I’ve known him since my late teens. We are very close. Since he owns a vintage clothing store, he is always impeccably dressed. I look like a shlumpadink standing next to him. He is also my “Foodie” friend that likes upscale eateries for pre-function meals and drinks. He is also gay.
So our friendly close demeanor at nice restaurants and gatherings guarantees we get a second glance, followed by a knowing wink. We recognize the dilemma, and laugh about it, jokingly saying “Neither of us is going to get any, at this rate”.
But the Ukulele band was awesome, and watching the swing dancers was a treat. It would be fun to take a class to learn.
No phone numbers were gotten, and the one woman I talked to was more interested in my friend, as she was wearing a 1940's day dress with matching bakelite accessories.
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I went to an amazing 40th birthday party on Saturday night. The birthday boy invited people to “do their thing” for about 10 minutes on stage. There was a little bit of everything. Some guitar players/singers, some poetry, a few amazing acrobatic couples yoga, including this tree trunk (I mean “this guy”) that stood with five (yes, 5) people standing and hanging off of him. There was a beautiful African instrument that I can’t remember the name of, but it was like a small finger harp inside the biggest gourd I’ve ever seen. There was even a tap dancing troupe!
I only knew a small handful of people there, but the crowd was quite nice. The birthday boy runs in a younger crowd, so most of the people were about 30. I tried to keep myself open, and not have my wall automatically come up. I talked with a bunch of folks, but no real connection was made with anyone. I don’t think I was “hip” enough for the crowd since I didn’t perform anything.
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Ecstatic Dance on Sunday morning was darn near incredible. Maybe it was the prompting of the party the night before, or maybe the new house is giving me some roots to stand up taller…… Whatever was going on, it felt great. I was bouncing around giving hugs to people I barely know, and I felt like I really belonged in the space. I was even invited out to lunch afterwards with a group of people. It was fun socializing with these new friends. Now if I can only remember their names.
Paperwork has been accepted, signed and returned on both ends. Ernest money check has been deposited. Loan Documents have been ordered. It’s way beyond official now. And of course I’m freaked out of my mind.
Realistically, the house will only be a couple of hundred a month more than what I am currently spending on rent and utilities. Still cheaper than the mortgage that was on the suburban ranch house I sold a year ago.
And really…. If I even get just one person to rent a room (and not two people like originally planned) I will be able to put a good chunk of extra payment towards the mortgage.
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Well, it didn’t take long, and I have already disabled my OkCupid account. I don’t think there are many people on that site that fit the profile of people I am drawn to. I’m much better off getting more active in my community doing the things I like to do, and meeting people organically.
It is time to focus on me. Focus on the house. Focus on setting up the house to be a home. I will have to buy a lot of yard tools again. Heck, I should be hitting the estate sales now, and getting some small things I know I will need. I love estate sales for that type of stuff. The items are cheap, usually better quality than new, and has character.
My usual Wednesday night dilemma is whether to go to Ecstatic Dance or to my friend’s Yoga and social hour in his backyard. Tonight I won’t be doing either. I have plans to go see a music group consisting of women that play all kinds of string instruments. I have a few friends in the band, and I have seen them many times before, always a great treat.
New Experiences! Pushing Boundaries! Exploring Outside of Normal Comfort Zone!
It must be the calm before the storm. The new house is in a holding pattern, waiting for the paperwork to process. This last weekend was completely free of all obligations, with nothing planned. I had absolutely no desire to do anything all weekend, and I was pretty successful.
A session with my shrink on Friday after work, and then I basically went home to bed. I laid around all Saturday doing nothing but play on the computer, and Sunday I finally got motivated to go to Ecstatic Dance and then do some laundry.
So on Saturday I re-activated an old on-line dating profile with OkCupid. Lots of the same faces from a year ago. I put up some new photos, changes some descriptions, and had fun looking at all the pictures. I even spent some time checking out the competition of the other mid 40’s single guys in my demographic. I gotta say, I may not be the most handsome guy around, but I do still have all of my hair with very little gray…and all my teeth too.
I am chalking up my absolutely lazy weekend to a number of things.
My bank account still has my late wife’s name on it, and the underwriter for the home mortgage asked me to clarify my relationship status. I told them I would scan a copy of her death certificate to them on Monday. When I dug out her death certificate on Friday night, I do believe it was the very first time I had read the entire document. Amazing how much information that little piece of paper holds. Amazing how many memories a life can hold.
While my relationship ended cleanly with B.D. early last week, I hadn’t made any plans with friends for the weekend, and more than a few friends are out of town. So I cruised on-line dating profiles all day long feeling sorry for myself, and laughing at the same time at how much I have it together compared to some of my competition. I may come with more baggage than a carry-on, but at least mine will fit in the over-head compartment. It’s taken 3 years of therapy to pack in in the bag, but at least I know what is in it now.
Went to an Ecstatic Dance class last night, and I was watching a person that used to be very shy and withdrawn. This person was alive last night! Their body was moving wild with abandon, eye contact with other dancers, and physical interaction with others as dance partners.
I was very happy for them….and quite jealous. I long to open myself to allow the eye contact, and physical connection with the other dancers. Something within myself keeps me withdrawn and isolated.
I think it goes back to the feeling of loss and becoming an empty shell of what I once was. I don’t want people to get too close to me, for fear they find out there is really nothing inside.
Back to that old mantra of finding Purpose and Passion. I have nothing in my life that moves me now.
As much as I hate to rely on materialistic trappings of consumerism, I think this house might just be a helpful boost.
It doesn’t address my shyness and unwillingness to let others in my mind, but it might give me a small focus at least.
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So what stops me from making deeper contact with people? My wife and I had that connection with ourselves and our closest friends, why can’t I move that expression forward with my new life?
Had a New Year’s Eve party at my place. There were probably 75 people that wandered through by night’s end. Some wonderful people showed up. There were some top-grade musicians that were jamming downstairs, and there was a euro-techno dance party upstairs. Much fun was had by all.
I brought down the house with a remix of a great Dolly Parton song. Jolene remixed by Johnatron It was a great song to end the dancing with.
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I had dinner with B.D. last night. She came over to my place and we had a nice talk. About 20 minutes into catching up with each other over the last two weeks, I started “The Talk”.
I mentioned how much fun we have and how easily we get along. I then told her that I wouldn’t be able to move this relationship forward any further than it is. She responded much like I expected, with barely an eye blink. She said she has heard me state previously that I am not ready for a heavy relationship and that she had quickly slid me into “boyfriend” roll into her life and that she needed someone with more drive and desire in their life to make an effort to make plans with her. We smiled and acknowledged we have a fun time together, and then we went and had dinner. It was a great dinner, and then we parted ways. I suspect we will run into each other at events, but I doubt either of us will make the effort to make specific plans to see each other.
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Still waiting to start signing paperwork on the house. Since it is owned by the government, there is supposedly more paperwork than normal. It will feel real if I can sign something, and/or they put a PENDING status on the property.
I went to B.D.’s party last night. It was a bit overwhelming and definitely not the kind of crowd I normally move in. There were fancy haircuts, fancy shoes, and plenty of turned up noses. If I had to guess what most of the attendee’s favorite pastime was, I would guess “making more money”.
B.D. is comfortable in this crowd. I am not. I made the most of it, and tried to be engaging and talkative. Didn’t work out so much. I was pretty darn quiet. Especially when the first question on people’s lips is “what do you do?”.
Hrmm…. What do I do?
And of course my over-active mind didn’t hear the question of “What do you do so you can eat”, but rather, “What do you do to make you, you?”
Great question. Difficult answer.
What is it that I do, that makes me, me? Sure, I do yoga, hike, karaoke, hippie dance church…..but what else? What do I do to nurture my soul? I’ve done more gentle holding of my soul than nurturing the last 3 years. What do I do? I see a shrink every week. I used to see a hospice grief support group twice a month. I go to a young widows and widowers support dinner once a month.
Is that who I am? When my wife was alive, it never seemed to be a question that needed answered. I was Husband, Best Friend, Confidant, Lover. Part of a Team. There was no need to ask “what do you do?”
The question of “Who Am I Now?” is so very difficult for me to answer.
There is absolutely no reason why the darkness settled down on me last night.
Yesterday was a roller coaster in the housing department. There is a Short Sale home I have been looking at for over 8 months that I am in second position for. The banks finally agreed to sell at a set price, and the buyer in first position indicated he no longer wanted it. My realtor pounced and we gathered up the appropriate paperwork and sent it in. At the eleventh hour, the first buyer changed his mind and decided to purchase the property a scant hour before the deadline. Frustration.
Went home to a freezing cold apartment with drafty 100 year old windows and promptly started popping the circuit breakers when I turned on some space heaters. Apparently every outlet and every light switch is on one line. Wonderful. There is very little water pressure in the house, so the shower just barely gives out enough water to rinse my hair. The bathroom sink U-pipe is almost completely plugged.I love my new apartment.
But I am able to walk just a few blocks to a wonderfully vibrant street filled with activities. I met some friends for Happy Hour drinks and the bar was sponsoring a “Trivia Night” so we joined in and held our own and came in 4th place.
Maybe it was the two whiskey drinks, but as I walked home the grief started to settle down on me. I crawled into bed and wept. My life used to be so simple and filled with constant joy with tenderness and love.Now, I don’t see the need to try and heat the apartment just for myself. The blocked drain is fine, it’s only me using it. Heck, even the shower isn’t a big deal since I don’t really need to be that clean for anyone. Why unpack everything? …………….I need to break out of this dip of negative emotion and get myself positive again!
Tonight I will start the final cleaning up the old apartment for an hour or so, and then I should get myself to the Wednesday night Hippie Dance. Push my body and sweat it out.
Ended up at a poetry reading last night. It wasn’t horrible, just not real exciting. Most of the readings were women pondering things like embryos clinging to red walls reminiscent of children hanging from monkey bars, or tucking children in at night with thoughts of being a better parent tomorrow. Yeah. That kind of poetry reading. But I was supporting a friend who was supporting one of the readers, so I got some cultural points this week.
I am going to put my deposit down on the new apartment today. With any luck I can start moving in next week, depending on the flooring situation. The carpets need cleaning desperately. I want to hang pictures and artwork up as quickly as possible to make it home.
Halloween weekend. Could be fun, could be crazy. I have left tonight wide open, and have a party on to attend on Saturday. B.D. is attending a different party, but might show up to meet me later. Sunday I have an event to carve some pumpkins. Sunday is also Hippie Dance Church, but they are doing a Day of the Dead celebration type dance, and I don’t think I should subject myself to that.
I’m not so sure about my Halloween costume this year. I was talked into wearing a black negligee type top, with a black skirt. I found some cool boots at a local thrift store, they have a thick high heel and go up a little way over the ankle. I will also be wearing a ¾ sleeve long gold lamé coat. Yeah, not sure how I was talked into this cute little number.
Fun weekend, listening and dancing to a friend’s band on Friday night. A large group of friends showed up, and it felt great. I was social, talkative, and there was great interaction. I felt like a little bit of the old Isherwood was back. My self-worth took a huge dive after my wife died. I felt like people really didn’t want to hang out with just me. I was depressed and not feeling like I had anything to contribute beyond a silent warm body occupying a vacant seat. When my wife was alive, I was very outgoing. So this shift in self-worth is very welcome and familiar.
The pain of Friday with the third anniversary of my wife’s death seems to have been another glimpse of closure for me.
I was extremely social on Saturday in that I left my apartment at 8:00 AM and didn’t get back until midnight! Breakfast with my hiking partner, and then we wandered the avenue and bumped into some other friends for a lite snack! I dragged along my hiking partner with another group of friends that were Halloween shopping, and finally had dinner with another group for some late night socializing. That’s four different groups of people for the day. Very social indeed! It felt GREAT.
I even talked 3 people into joining me to Hippy Dance Church on Sunday! We are all going to the same Halloween party next weekend, so we are going as a foursome theme. We picked “one-night stands” and I was talked into wearing a dress since I am growing out my hair and it is long enough to curl now. Not sure how I was talked into that.
Sunday afternoon was a widow/widowers dinner that I had made reservations for last weekend. I had requested an upstairs private room and the manager had agreed to it, but apparently had not written it down or let the other employees know. The restaurant is extremely busy and loud, and not enjoyable even on for a regular dinner so I had to pull the shift manager aside and politely but forcibly procured the upstairs room for us. I told him the nature of our group and that I would like to protect his other customers from hearing us talk about death and dying and with some newcomers to our group, we certainly don’t want his other customers being uncomfortable with people crying visibly and possibly loudly. Yes, I laid it on pretty thick and he was quite anxious to move us to the upstairs room. I slipped him some extra green after the dinner to thank him, as they really did go out of their way with so few servers available on a busy Sunday night.
I’ve turned into a semi-facilitator for this group, as most of the members don’t want to bring up topics. I tend to start a topic with a broad statement, ask a few of the regulars if they have experienced something similar, and then look at the fairly newer members for input, allowing the brand new members to speak up if they are so inclined. My heart isn’t in the group anymore. I plan on skipping the next few dinner groups. The more full my life becomes, and the better I feel about myself, the less I seem to have in common with the widows/widowers group. I’m not turning my back because I am “OK” now….far from it….. but I feel like I am forcing myself to go backwards to talk at these dinners.
So my shrink wants to start seeing me every week now. I guess it wasn’t my imagination that I was slipping a little bit into a depression. I’m pushing against mindful expansion with apathy and procrastination, with day dreams of escape. Those are my words, not hers.
I was going to try and look at another house this weekend, and a home that has been on the market 6 days already has 3 offers, and apparently one is for over the asking price. Crazy I tell ya!
Last Tuesday night I had a date with the quiet woman I met on a blind date and we have another date tonight. This makes the 5th or 6th date with her. I wrote how I was going to put some distance between us and let her know in a gentle way that I am not feeling any ‘spark’. Well, I didn’t do that on Tuesday, so I better do this tonight. She is fun to hang out with though. I just don’t feel any “oomph” in the WhooHooo department.
Rollerskating on Saturday night again! And then Ecstatic Dance on Sunday morning, followed by a date with the 28 year old young woman that evening!
I don’t know why I have this slight depression. My life is great! It is filled with laughter and good friends. I have no financial woes, I live in one of the best parts of town for walking to hip restaurants and storefronts, my job pays well with great benefits and I only work 40 hours a week. I really shouldn’t have any complaints.
