Day 312: All One

So many things to think about. Perhaps this bloody internet has failed at a crucial moment AGAIN to kick me up the arse and get me on out of here. I know it’s not everything. I’m looking forward to being able to being able to get online at any time without disturbing anyone else and without having it crash for no particular reason, as it repeatedly does.

I am being gently challenged with some mindfulness things, which I’m really grateful for. Like this: I’ve been noticing myself judging people in my head. Quite a stream. Not quite constant, but pretty often, and it creates a tightness in my stomach that's just under the surface of my awareness most of the time. ‘Don’t speak to your child like that.’, ‘Don’t eat with your mouth wide open.’, ‘Why are you driving so close to me?’, ‘Why the fuck do you think the top of the escalator is a good place to hang out?’. And what is it doing? Making me separate. Letting me drift back to believing stories that separate is something that I am and could be.

As a person I'm interested in is not currently getting in touch, I have noticed myself seeing couples with eyes of ‘not for me’ and attractive men with a bellyful of ‘he probably fancies her, not me, how stupid of me to think...’. Ha! Old shit. I’ve also noticed myself slipping back into a comfortably masculine way of dealing with things, all strident and forward, disdain for 'pretty' rising up, fear of the skirt and practicality taking over.  Thing is, just because I’ve fallen into that comfortable place again somewhat (comfortable in that it's old, same old, and complacent, not that it feels good), it doesn’t’ mean those things are any more true than they’ve ever been. 

I’m not separate. There’s nothing special about me to make me unsuitable for a brilliant, playful, wonderful relationship with another person. Other people aren’t wrong. In fact, they’re just being, like I am. And what I want to feel, every day, is the deep and sunny warmth I felt when realising that we are all the same. What am I made of? The same stuff as you. Exactly the same. I want to remember that. And have, as the book I've just finished calls it, my 'one in particular' - someone who loves me and is delighted that I love them, someone who is genuinely into me and with whom I feel my best.

'Oneness'. That's its actual name. Love it.

I laughed a lot today. I learnt a lot. I felt light. I felt playful. Then I watched a grim-as-fuck play called 4.48 Psychosis (the clue is in the title – I’d highly recommend doing something more constructive with your time than ever seeing it). I did know it was unlikely to be my cup of tea. I went because I was having a nice time with some nice people. I wish I’d stuck to my original plan of early home and an evening in bed with a book. Well, I’ll just up and do that now.

Workshop was great. Pond was  a misty blessing. And I love my bike. The world’s good, though. Oh, and what about the 8 or so coooool black teenage boys on the tube singing Michael Jackson and putting on lip balm. They must have been 16. They must have been going to get into a club. Then when they got off at Piccadilly Circus, one of them said (twice) ‘Last one to the end of the platform stinks.’ Seriously. If that didn’t make my day, what on earth could?