Chocolate chip entropy

I do best with a diet which excludes dairy, soya and oats. If I provide myself with that, other things pretty much fall into place. If I do not provide myself with that, all things tend toward entropy.

I think it was Brian Cox I once heard talking about how living organisms are essentially agents of entropy, catalysing the Universe’s descent, paradoxically, due to the necessity of staving off entropy within themselves. Maybe I should think about how I’m killing the Universe in my own minute way the next time I want to waste a week of my life on some chocolate chip cookies or something.

Because the annoying thing about me is that, even though I know very well by this point that there is a clear and meaningful difference between who I am when I’m eating the right things and who I am when I’m eating the wrong things, I still keep feeling the need to just…test it. Or, if something really fucks me off, it still seems like a good idea to bury my sorrows in some junk food that I conveniently didn’t check the label of.

That’s why I’ve been splashing around in the mud much more than I should have been these past few weeks. Things got emotional and I decided, despite all the well-worn tools and techniques available to me, that I would eat my feelings about once a week, and then spend the rest of the week regretting it not quite enough to stop me doing it all over again.

I’ve spent most of my life feeling pretty shitty, so it’s easy for me to forget what feeling good is like. But every time I get back on track I think why the fuck would I do that to myself? …and then I do.

In my defense, I think there’s a bit of a pendulum effect going on, and the swing is gradually decreasing. Getting better is a strange thing. Maybe this is just how I have to do it.

Time to level up?

What am I doing?

If I wanted to be a blogger, there are a whole lot of other ways I could be going about it that would be better than this. But I don’t, especially. I want to be a writer.

And I think I only mean that in the most basic of senses. Just that I am a person who writes. Ideally, a person who writes well.

I have always, when allowed to exist unfettered, been a writer. But the bleakest times of my life coincide with the most pages left blank, because I let myself be easily stifled. Part of this endeavour has been to consciously resist my tendency to fall silent in appeasement.

When I started this originally, while pregnant, my aim was just to write something every day. I failed fairly quickly. This time around, my aim was to write something worth writing every day. I confess I’ve actually missed one day, and a few of my posts were maybe scraping the barrel, but, even if I have failed, I’ve failed less.

The thing that is irking me now is this: I’m not trying to get people to look at this. And so not many people are looking at this. And so, I may be writing something worth writing, but am I writing something worth reading?

To find that out, I need more feedback. And that’s going to require me to do work that isn’t just writing. And I don’t fucking want to. But that’s where we are. And that’s my choice if I want to level up. And that’s very inconvenient for me.

So what’s it gonna be?

Straight lines

Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries.

I’m bad at boundaries.

Most people I know are bad at boundaries.

Is that because most people are bad at boundaries? Or because only people who are bad at boundaries can tolerate people who are bad at boundaries?

I notice, when I try to instate or uphold healthy boundaries, that a lot of people don’t like it. My first thought, of course, is that I’m doing it wrong. Which may be true. But I suspect it’s probably more to do with violated expectations.

I also notice, when I try to instate or uphold healthy boundaries, that I often don’t really like it either. It’s hard work. It’s effort to maintain the balance of empathy and kindness with drawing lines. I fuck it up a lot.

I also notice, though, that when other people set clear boundaries, I love it. It doesn’t happen that often, but I feel so free when it does.

So I know what I am chasing: People to draw adjoining shapes with.

Blurred vision

Have I been holding too tightly to my own point of view?

Have I been refusing to see what they were trying to show me?

Sometimes, pain constricts our vision – sometimes our field of view, sometimes our focus.

I think I’ve fallen victim to that of late. So now I’m forcing myself to look differently. And it’s uncomfortable, and it feels a bit wrong, and I don’t like it. And part of me keeps chanting don’t do it, you’ll just get hurt again.

But how much is it hurting me to continue as I am? And can I not trust myself to learn from my mistakes?

If we become too rigid, we begin to die. If we stop using our vision, it atrophies.

Learning to open up again is probably the most important and difficult part of healing. If you don’t eventually get there then, really, what was the point?

Every wand’ring bark

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to make a decision and not waver.

There is part of me that knows how to be unshakeable. At my core I am fixed in love, and if I drop down into that, I am certain.

It’s my mind that wanders – looking for a new approach, exploring different avenues, finding all the angles. Everchanging curiosity and insatiable questing prevent me from keeping my feet in one place for very long at all. The only way for me to stick to a path is for me to dance all over it. And then, if a fork comes up, all bets are off.

I scare people when I’m fixed on something. Maybe that’s why I often lean so heavily on my tendency to flitter. I am intense. Not many can withstand my gaze for more than a few seconds. I burn through things. I’ve never really learned to own that.

It’s easy to imagine that life would be simpler if I could just pick a reality and stick to it. But, ultimately, I think I still believe that I’d be losing something if I did that.

I also think there’s a way to acknowledge the multifacted nature of truth while still mapping out a defined path for yourself. But I’ve been failing at that for the past few weeks. I’ve been feeling directionless, and lamenting all the decisions I haven’t made.

Life can be a lot sometimes. It’s okay to get blown off course when you’re trying to do difficult things. Just gotta keep The Star in sight.