On my love story.

These thoughts crowd my head space and I need to get them out so I can sleep better, next time I lay down.

My grandparents have a love story worthy of the fairybooks.  They met in London after WWII.  My grandfather was looking for a pianist to accompany him when he played a Brahms piece on the violin.  A mutual friend introduced them, and they went on their first date less than two weeks after their first rehearsal together, and the rest is history.  They had 5 boys, emigrated from England to America, adopted another boy and 2 girls at the age of 50, and continue, in their late 80s, to fawn over one another.  "Isn't she beautiful!?"  "Aren't we lucky!?"  "Another day postponing the demise with my darling at my side.  'Tis wonderful."  This example of true love serves as a bastion for me.

I have often thought a long-lasting love story like theirs is a human experience that few are lucky enough to include in their lives, and really the only sort that makes sense to want to emulate.  Knowing, of course, that any relationship will have its own particular quibbles, foibles, and antics, I am not interested in exploring deep love relationships with many people for the sake of exploring deep love relationships with many people.  I feel like that's sort of antithetical.  The depth comes largely in part from the time that you spend with a person.  We are only given a brief stay on this earth, and it is my belief that practicing loving the same person for the majority of it is one of the most likely ways to ensure that your life will be imbued with deep, true love.  A worthy endeavor.

I have only had relationships with a handful of men. I have slept with fewer.  My (limited) experience has taught me that my neuro-chemical pathways function healthily--that oxytocin kicks in strong.  For me, Sex=Being In Love.  Not just "I love that person" as in I care a great deal for them, but full-on deeply in love.  Sex is absolutely fun.  But I am apparently incapable of having sex "just for fun," or casually, or even without a sense of serious commitment.  My heart gets broken if sex is involved and we don't stay together.  Because I'm currently single, that means that in my life, 100% of the time, sex leads to a broken heart.  I know this correlation is likely not strictly causal, but that's how it feels.

I live my life openly.  My private domain is almost non-existant.  I generally don't speak about the ins and outs of my relationships, not because I mind if people know my business, but because I know that my partner might mind.  Sex is the only intimate part of my life that I don't share with the world at large.  It is truly intimate for me, and I feel like that holding that space sacred is important.  I expect that my partner will share this opinion/ideal.  It is soul crushing that the few lucky men who have been with me have known this about me, have tried to fit the bill, and decided that it's not what worked for them after all.  Firstly, I'm sad that they weren't self-confident or self-aware enough to know about themselves that they were not built that way.  Secondly, and related, it is pitiful that they craved vulnerability and intimacy so much that they were willing to betray their true natures.  Finally, it sucks (*understatement*) that they got to enjoy vulnerability and intimacy with me at my cost.

Disclaimer section: (My blog contains my personal thought process, so forgive me if I indulge a bit in heart-broken-victimization here.  This is where not stating the perspectives of my previous partners is a convenient respecting of their privacy.  Should they wish to set the record straight or offer their side of the story, they are welcome to do so.  When talking about these issues, I find myself asking, "What's wrong with me!?" and my best friends say, "Nothing is wrong with you. Those boys just want to fuck sluts and you're not a slut."...so by writing from the perspective of how I feel, I'm empowering myself and honoring that nothing is wrong with me for feeling the way I do.  And by "slut" I assume my friends mean "person who is capable of and enjoys non-committal sex". Yay for the sexual revolution allowing women to join the slutty ranks of men in this world.  If I don't judge you for being a slut, please don't judge me for being a prude. Obviously, I'm speaking tongue in cheek.)

In the past year or so, a guiding question that I ask myself is, "Does this feel healthy?".  If I ask, instead, "Does this feel right?" or "Does this feel wrong?",  I often get conflicted answers as my heart and mind and gut contradict each other or even themselves.  The question "Does this feel healthy?" may have a muddy answer, but generally the answer is more clear, and feels holistic to my entire being (mind, body, soul).  A friend recently said they wanted to see me "Strong and happy and healthy."   This was a comment that followed seeing me very upset and crying (very upset and sobbing, really, for an extended period of time).  One thought I had about that is that I am strong, and my upset did not represent weakness (opposite of strong), but, rather, vulnerability.  Being vulnerable feels healthy, if not  peachy.  I am not interested in avoiding real moments just because they're not hunky-dory.  It feels healthy to confront them head-on, and move through the unsavory expressions of emotion that wash through me.  It does feel unhealthy, however, to remain in a situation where unsavory emotions tend to be the norm, which is partially why I am not in a relationship currently.

Upon reflection, much of the unsavory emotions related to my relationships stem from my somewhat obsessive analysis of what each aspect of our interactions mean.  I want to know where we both stand at all times, and it's difficult to just "live in the moment" without some assurance that the moment is being invested into a longer-term cache of memories for the two of us.  Having a "...to be continued..." feeling is really unsettling/stressful for me.  It's not so much that I want(ed) to be married, but that I want(ed) that unsettled feeling to dissipate.  Maybe that's what some people mean when they refer to marriage as "settling down"?  I had always thought of it as meaning living in a single place, but I suppose it could be more abstract too.  In any case, it seems to me that intimate, "living in the moment" and "lighthearted" relationships may be really fun in the short term, but they are also shallow, superficial, ultimately unfulfilling.  I love wholeheartedly--you get the lightheartedness (yay!) and the heavyheartedness (sometimes) with me, but it is balanced, real, deep.  When it is unbalanced, it takes work to correct, but I believe the work is worth it because the love proves to be deep and fulfilling.  I am not interested in investing the best parts of myself in something that will ultimately prove unfulfilling.  If I have a partner, I want to share the best parts of life with that partner, someone who reciprocates and also sees every moment, good and bad, as an investment.

I am single.  In general, I'm content and happy about that.  I have a lot of love and passion to share, but I am not willing or able to compromise my ideals and constitutional make up in order to be generous in that department.  I would rather be single than compromise on this: I only want a partner to enjoy the lightheartedness and fun of a relationship who is also willing to put in the work to get through the frustrations of living with another person.  I see my grandparents and know it's worth it.
 

In which I acknowledge my perfectionism

Mid despair, I saw this marvelous sliver of a rainbow to knock me out of my circular thoughts.

I have often befriended folks who are better at (enter X skill here) than I, because I am attracted to their drive and talent.  I am inspired by them on some level.  Being surrounded by inspiration means that I'm motivated to keep reaching, working on my own skills, which, in turn, usually leads to a sense of progress, self-sufficiency, productivity, and/or satisfaction.  In my personal "pursuit of happiness" it is the journey of productivity that generally equals happiness for me.

There are some similarities across some of my closest friends who share the trait of doing their particular skill at a world class level.  For one, they achieved their mastery through dedication, practice, and perseverance.  These qualities were often fomented by their perfectionist natures, as were their abilities to hone their practice beyond Really Really Freaking Good (a level infrequently achieved) to Precisely Fucking Amazing (only a few in the world at a time attain this level of excellence).  Unfortunately, a side effect of being a perfectionist seems to be almost constant dissatisfaction.  And for this reason, my most incredibly talented friends often seem to be some of the most angsty, disquieted people.  (Of course, because they're often in the public eye, and because they're perfectionists, they've also crafted a marvelous facade of pleasantness and buoyancy through which they interact with most of the world.)

The stock I come from are A)workaholics, and B)pretty well satisfied with Good Enough.  Generally, that means we're productive, and pretty happy.  "Never let perfect be the enemy of good," could be one of the Pohl mottos.  We do a lot of good work, but rarely achieve or strive for perfection.  This lack of reaching one's potential sort of irked me.  At some point, I thought to myself, "What if I look up to my friends and strive for their amazing levels of skill, but am not hard on myself...Will I achieve near perfectionist levels of accomplishment and avoid the malaise?"  It made sense in my head.  So that's what I've been working on for several years, in several aspects of my life.

I read about people who said things like, "If, on a scale from 1-10, various aspects of your life rank as a bunch of 7's, most people would think, 'Awesome! I'm doing pretty good! Why change anything?'  But think how much better it'd be if you had a bunch of 10s!"  I drunk the Kool-Aid, so to speak, and have changed many things in my life in order to achieve a higher level satisfaction.  My goal was/is to apply myself to all my endeavors with discipline and discernment, while being kind to myself, and it feels great!

...Until it doesn't.  The thought occurred to me a couple months ago during a conversation with a friend, when she suggested that I might actually be a perfectionist despite my careful avoidance attempts.  I banished the notion because I didn't really want to entertain the thought that I could be vulnerable to the negative aspects of perfectionism, and I also didn't think I had really achieved anything worthy of perfectionist levels of skill.  My friend raised her eyebrows at me as if I had just made her point.  By discounting my own skills, I had, in one sense, achieved the central step in perfectionism;  to never think anything I do is particularly noteworthy.  I hadn't really thought about it that way--for me, most of my pleasure is gained from the journey rather than the destination, so it makes sense that the resulting object/performance/etc is more or less irrelevant, and serves merely as a marker for how to steer my personal evolution for the next iteration.  However, what most people see and judge you by is the resulting object/performance/etc...but that's a different tangent.

Today, I experienced several hours where my personal satisfaction with The Journey was fractured (I was frustrated in a dance class heavy in choreography--my nemesis), and rather than brushing it aside as Just One-A-Dem Days, and laughing off my frustration, which is what I usually do, I felt unable to stem the rushing tide that rose and drowned me in a sea of negative self talk.  Hours after the class, I was still wallowing in a general dispair and dissatisfaction with my life.

Oh no!  This is exactly what I wanted to avoid!

I think most of my life I've been able to put my brain power into my schoolwork, and take a break from my thoughts by working with my body in dance.  Now that I'm no longer in school, I have more brainpower to devote to dance, costuming, etc.  (I have seen improvements due to this fact.) Today,  I figured out why I never liked choreography--it's a mental exercise as well as a physical one.  I always sought dance as my escape from mental gymnastics!  I liked that it was a physical and intuitive practice with only light forays into mental effort.

So...what, one frustrating example of applying myself and I become immutably forlorn, a sad victim of perfectionism?  Doubly so because the thing that usually brings me happiness is what is causing this despondency?  Ugh, please, no.

Probably the answer is: Keep applying myself, but commit to less productivity.  Commit myself to time off doing nothing.  Become comfortable with doing nothing because it's no good to do, do, do, and then feel poorly about it.  If happiness is dependent on doing, rather than simply being, then I've missed the point.  So I suppose I'm admitting I'm a perfectionist, because admission of a problem is the first step in letting go.

Hah, easier said than done.

Friend breakup heartbreak

There are many types of heartbreak:  the death of a loved one, the repeated disappointment you feel from questionable actions of a loved one, breaking up with your significant other, when your significant other leaves you...   And then, there's the heartbreak that stems from losing a close friend.  You thought the two of you were close, and you were enjoying, or wanted to enjoy, continued closeness with this person.  But it turns out they aren't interested in that sort of relationship with you any more.  Their motivations are dictated by shiny, new experiences, and, frankly, your presence in their lives has ceased to be important or a priority.  It's shocking, and yes, heartbreaking.  

I remember the first time I was heartbroken like this.  I was in 2nd grade.  I went to a Montessori school where 3 grade levels of children shared a classroom.  Sarah Shannon, who was a sweet chipmunk-faced 4th grader, and I had befriended one another.  We spent every day sitting on our mat, doing our work, and talking about whatever 2nd and 4th graders talk about.  I spent the night at her house and felt very grown up being her friend.  Then, one day, she didn't want to share a mat with me any more.  She wanted to share a mat with Marcie Schenck instead.  She invited her to spend the night and didn't even say goodbye to me at the end of the day.  I was devastated.  

I spent the evening gathering some peace offerings:  two tiny plastic rabbit figurines I had recently gotten for Easter, and tiny vial of rose water, and a die (as in dice).  Tiny things were my treasures, and I was going to offer Sarah, not one but BOTH of my newest tiny prized possession bunnies.  I hoped that my offering would help her see how much she meant to me, and that she might reconsider, and decide that I could at least join her and Marcie at their mat. 

The next morning, when my mom dropped me off at school, I remember she had to pull over and talk to me because I refused to get out of the car.  I sobbed, slumped down all the way in the back seat, miserable.  I was so embarrassed to be just a little 2nd grader, whose friendship, I inferred, was not nearly as good as Marcie's 3rd grade friendship.  I was so embarrassed that I had pretty much considered a 4th grader my peer.  How could I have been so dumb? But also, why didn't she like me any more?  I was too embarrassed to get out of the car and walk into my classroom like nothing was wrong, when I knew I'd be sad all day long.  Eventually my mom talked me into going into school, walking me in herself, at least 30 minutes late (explaining to the teachers in discrete terms so that they wouldn't draw attention to my predicament, and so I didn't get in trouble for being late).  I gave Sarah my little bunny figurines, and I don't think the gift registered at all with her.  And that was that.  I sucked it up, and had to move on.  But it left a scar on my heart.

A(n extreme) Day in the Life

Yesterday provides a caricature of my life.

7:30a Leave from my hotel in Charleston, SC, where I spent a couple days for NOAA Digital Coast partnership meetings.

Sage=
grey infrastructure (concrete bridge)
+
green infrastructure (wetland buffer)

9a-3p Invigorating meetings and discussion about how to make government more efficient and help policy makers and planners do their job well, basing their decisions about coastal resiliency using data and digital tools.  Laura (one of the other Digital Coast fellows) and I presented a project we've been working on, and got some great feedback.

Digital Coast partners meeting at NOAA

It's a fun group to work with;
Cinco de Mayo piñata and landsat imagery discussions.

Notes from presentation and discussion

Two NOAA Digital Coast Fellows

3p-6p Walk around downtown Charleston with one of my coworkers.

 

I love this color

Even the rickety old houses are beautiful

6p-10:30p Fly back to DC, then rush to the 9:30 Club where my friend Zoe's band, Beats Antique, was playing.

10:30p-12:30a Enjoy all-access viewing of the show (still in my work clothes, ha ha!).  Milled around visiting with dance friends and marveling at how packed the venue was (sold out!), and how cute all the baby bellydancer fans were.

Zoe's interpretation of Balinese shadowdance

 12:30a-2:00a Dress in a full-body skeleton unitard, don a vulture head mask (through which I could see approximately zero), get on stage and rock out the encore with Mavi, Zoe, David, & Tommy.  Oh, and a squid, apparently.  (I had no idea until I got these pictures that there was a giant squid! I told you I couldn't see through the mask!).

David rallies the crowd as Mavi and I blindly navigate space.

I brought her some macarons from a cute little French bakery in Charleston. Yum!

 2a-2:30a Cab home. Cuddle kitties.

33 and counting

Numbers alive--improving numerical literacy

I'm 33 and a bit.  Since my birthday, I have spent many hours alone at home, went on my first touristy trip in DC (to see the cherry blossoms) one morning before work, read half a novel (first time in forever), visited my friend Victoria up in Phildelphia, pressed through a couple terribly painful days when I was sick, and done a whole bunch of reflection.

When I got here in DC, I was hustling and bustling, excited about living in a new place, excited to be living alone without having to take care of someone else or worry about another person's day to day issues, excited to have a job I cared about for the first time, excited to have my free time be my time, and free time (no homework!).  I have not begun to take these things for granted.  However, I have settled in, which means I have become accustomed to these wonderful aspects of my life and have experienced lonely moments, issues arising at work, overbooking my free time, and realize that I still struggle financially. 

Now that I have settled in, I am trying to just enjoy what I have.  But I have one eye on the future.  What's next?  My fellowship is only 2 years long, and I'm 6 months in.  I need to start strategizing The Next Move.  I know that I'd like to re-establish myself in the conservation world a bit more strongly than where I am currently.  Beyond that, all bets are off.  I have lots of ideas, and the world is my oyster.  

I spent so long focusing on finishing a graduate degree and finding a job, that I hardly ever considered other long term goals.  Now, I find myself free to daydream.  I am unencumbered by a relationship, and can do anything anywhere I decide to do it.  (That's not to say a relationship is necessarily a hindrance, just that I don't have to consider another person's plans right now).  

Some longer-term possibilities:

Open a dance/arts/circus studio

Work on combining my arts and conservation goals

Stay in Washington

Move to Boulder or back to California

Focus on a conservation job internationally somewhere
Move into a tiny home to save on rent

Start an Alpaca farm

Go sailing

Delve more into performance

Depending on the day, my mood, etc, any and all of these options are super appealing. My life is a question mark right now.  And it feels warm and inviting to not know the answer to "What will happen?".  My 33rd year is off to a solid start. Lots of experience in store...