Saturday, June 6, 2015

A Beautiful Crazy

 My Crazy is Beautiful.  Thats what a very good male friend told me this week.  I have a beautiful crazy.  This coming to me after I texted a last text to the guy that just rocked my world asking if my crazy was too much for him.  I got no response.  I guess the answer was yes.

I talk a lot about creating our own realities.  I make many references to our perception of things.  What I see as white,  you might see as off white or even light grey.  Our realities even if co-existing at the same time might be something entirely different to each of us.

I watched two of my coworkers these past couple of months,  have these seriously miss communicated conversations.  They were both saying the exact same thing but in entirely different words and mannerisms.  They couldn't understand each other, yet to an outsider looking in, it was clear they were saying the exact same thing.  Interesting experience for me.

So how does one manage to create and co-exist with others when there is such a clearly divided understanding in perceptions?  How is my crazy beautiful to one person and totally unacceptable to another.  How does one communicate to someone that is obviously on an entirely different level then them?

Am I connecting with those around me?  My crazy definitely isn't.  Am I on the wrong path?

Harmony.  Synchronicity.  Little signs only I would understand, are the life markers I need to know that I am going in the right direction.  Sometimes I need blaring signs to know that I am walking in the right direction.  Even when the situation is ugly to me, sometimes it has an underlying harmony to it.  I am in harmony with it.  Sometimes the signs point me to situations I don't want to experience, just to get me through to where I need to be...

(Sometimes I just get lost.... Sometimes I am trapped)

....That's a path I am walking out of now.  The dark painful path of suffering and low self worth.  The path of punishment and limitations.   The path I fought so hard to create for myself because I thought that's what I wanted.  I married myself to the hypnotic trance many living zombies follow.

Money. Status. The trophy boyfriend.  The perfect kids.

That's what I have been trying to manifest for years.  Ambition being the socially acceptable motivating factor.  Did you know on Plenty of Fish, a dating website, that one of the last questions you can answer to complete your profile is... how ambitious are you?  Why the fuck would one need to know that in a dating partner?

Probably so a person like me can see if the guy is still a society drone, I guess.

  Well maybe I shouldn't say that.  Just because money and status corrupt me it doesn't mean they mess with everyone.  Its just not my path.  I don't value money other then to pay my rent and buy healthy food for my daughter and I.  I used to value status, until I rose up to those people with status.  Then I realized people on the top have the same problems as people on the perceivable bottom.  And truly their problems seem compounded by money not lessened.   Money buys to many excuses and hide-a-ways.

Just a few posts ago I spoke so animated about the promotions I fought for at work.  I had many congratulations and people excited for me, to see my ambitions achieved.  To tell people I was so busy was to gain their approval, their respect.

 How quickly I burnt out.

 Its not me.   One of my last posts spoke about surviving the busiest period of my work year.   Surviving?  Is that all I want out of life, to survive?  What was I thriving on if I was just surviving?  How and why did I get to a place of being proud I survived the black hole that tried to suck me... wait better question, How the fuck was I so close to the black hole in the first place?

That black hole that I spoke about last year in these pages.  Have I not learned yet?

That hole always presents itself when I am in risk of losing myself.  In the past its the guy I lose myself in, becoming someone I am not to fit his image of me.  This time it was having to become someone I didn't like to achieve my ambitions.   I lost myself once already in this current job I am in.  But I thought if I took a different approach, took on a different position I could maintain who I was and thrive in the company.

I was wrong.

Admitting we tried and failed at something is so hard.  Changing ones mind after passionately shouting it off the screens of a blog is hard business.  I  feel many times people don't take me seriously because I am so fluid, so changeable all the time.  However I am learning that's the crazy one guy couldn't stand and the crazy another found beautiful.

I need to get out and experience things.  I cant sit on my couch and have a conversation with a friend, play the scenario out and decide it isn't for me.  Nope.  I have to get out and live it.  Sometimes two or three times before I actually side step the hole.  I try different avenues, venues and paths to see if I can find a way around hole.  Most times it doesn't work.

I changed too much to become a project manager of an unstable landscaping company.  I had to drink too much coffee to sustain my energy.  My judgement became clouded and my morals weak when I let the aggressive man child get his way with my heart.  I became much too distracted to see that the company was starting to fall apart with me standing in the eye of the storm.  (well now that's a little mellow dramatic, but its how I love to roll)

When I am creating something that is not in my highest good, it has no staying power.  I have no staying power.  I did this same thing when I worked for the weight loss company and convinced the CEO to promote me.  I got to where I wanted to go and I crashed and burned.  It is not where I belong.

I am a kick ass manager.  I had guys telling me that.  I am good at everything I set my mind to.  I train well and I am a quick study.  I am learning however that there is a price to everything.  An energy exchange to every action you take.  To be manager means to rent a room in your head to a tenant that's always active.  I cant shut off my work when I am in that position.  My addictive nature thrives in situations where adrenaline and thrill out weigh self care and peace.  I become a workaholic at a high cost.

I change when my addictive nature is activated,  I invite drama, I create chaos, I thrive in manipulation.  The price is too high for me to work for and with people that are shady and living lies that pour over into my reality.  My reality becomes melded with theirs and I become trapped in a world of suffering and self punishment.  I don't need dope to activate this nature.  I don't need constant focus on my addict self to keep me out of this nature.

The rose colored glasses came off last weekend.

Three key players left the company on the same day.  The vision I could not let go off all that day and since,  was three men that I had come to love and respect walked away from the yard with three lit wooden matches.  And as they moved away in that slow motion picture kinda way,  they threw the matches over their shoulders and the entire yard went up in flames.  As I stood there left behind to go down in the flames.

Melodramatic?  Absolutely.  Some huge childhood issues of abandonment?  You betchya.  But more then anything came the awareness that once again I was frozen in place.   Caught in my own ambitions and losing everything meaningful in my life because of my addictive nature turning into this raging vixen that loved her games more then her self.

My last post was titled.... I am Done.   I have said that several times to people this week.  I am done.  I am tired of trying to achieve something that is not meant to be mine and becoming someone I hate to get there.  I am to experienced to make poor choices because I am to afraid to look at the truth of a situation and do whats necessary to get out of it.   One of those men to walk away from the yard, did so because he was changing into something he didn't like and he loved himself more then making someone else money.

That hit home like a sucker punch to the stomach.  Have you ever been punched in the stomach and didn't see it coming?  Its like all the air gets violently sucked out of your body and you cant gasp it back in.  Your suspended in this painful place of your own mortality.  As  he walked over the threshold back into himself he looked back at me with eyes that invited me to come back into myself as well.

Its taken me a week and several days hiding under my covers, to acknowledge that invitation.   Its taken some hard thinking as the man child advised me as he drove through the provinces on his way back to his loving family to recover from his ordeal.

To walk away from Vixen and her path means I will lose my large monthly income.  I will lose my
status.  And I will probably lose my new circle of accomplished ambitious status loving friends.

As the tears flowed nonstop for me this week, I washed away all that I have achieved.  I washed away all that I thought I wanted to be.  I washed away all the expectations of what the world around me creates as acceptable.  I washed away my own self judgments.  I washed away all the past hang ups and baggage claims that I am not good enough because I have been abandoned in the past.  I washed away my toxic desires that serve to chain me to a reality that is not of who I am aspiring to be.

So today I begin my shaky steps back on to the path less traveled.  Back through the little path that meanders up the side of the mountain.  That path that is overgrown and hidden from the drones view.  I step off the wide paved path that the zombies bumble down.  Finding peace and freedom by the little babbling stream that is coming off the mountains spring run off.

I am not really there yet.  Just painting a picture for the universe to grasp on to and create for me.  Its time to bring my hippie back and move into something more peaceful and loving for my life.  Its time for a new chapter or my story.   I love my life.... and my beautiful crazy.

Follow the White Rabbit

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