I have always felt a bit odd, different, out of sync, out-of-place, out of step, out of tune, off kilter, and unbalanced in comparison to the rest of my world. I tend to push every boundary I can, every chance I get. Those who know me know that unless they stop me dead in my tracks, look me in the eye, tell me “No” AND explain why I can’t…well, it’s not without understanding consequences or anything. I am fully *aware* of the consequences of most of my actions. It’s just that unless it involves potential death, jail time, or hurting another human, I don’t really think it matters all that much.
I am an avid readier who prefers Sci-Fi, or short stories of any genre for escapist reading. I love books of a spiritual nature too, but in the absence of preferred reading material, I’ll pretty much read whatever I can find. My absolute worst anxiety attacks revolve around running out of reading material, not running out of cigarettes. Cereal boxes do not count as reading material.
Aside from reading, writing, hiking, shopping, reading, sketching, reading, writing, meditating and spending too much time on the computer but not in front of the TV, you will find me fooling around with plants in some fashion. I’m either sketching them, picking them, saving seed from them, planting and transplanting them or making them have sex against their will as often as possible. It’s a passion I cannot explain; an integral part of my participation in life.
I’ve never thought of myself as a creative person until recently. I’ve managed to play the music in front of me but never really allowed myself to feel the music in front of me. Now, I find myself almost half crazed in some ways. Consumed with allowing myself time for creative endeavors which allow me to “feel” life. I am now much less fearful of putting whatever it is I’m working on out there for all to see whether that be writing or sketching. Up until recently I always considered my perfectionism a strength. Now I am not so sure. No, I am sure: Perfectionism can effectively stall us from moving along. It’s all about balance. And letting go.
I am an intensely private person despite an apparent transparency to others of who I am. I say “apparent” only because that’s what I’m constantly told. I don’t hide myself well even when I should. And even when I think I do. More and more, I simply don’t have the strength to pull up the armor. I was once told by a veritable GIANT of a boss (6’9″ and 250#’s of sheer brawn and balls), that my size meant nothing because I was so “BIG” in presence (all while looking down at me with an amused grin as I stood on his toes giving him a piece of my very pissed off mind). Probably a shock for most considering my short stature (5’1″) and petite build (100#’s soaking wet). I’m not sure I particularly care for that description. But then again, it’s not *my* description. I do find I can use it to my advantage. And sometimes I find that I allow it to use me.
I’m not a loner per se, although many times I am more than comfortable in solitude. Once in sensory overload I retreat, sometimes for days, to recharge. I feel others intensely especially with those I am bonded to. Empath. Most would call me anti-social (I’m not), and introverted (I am). Yet, I’m the woman who will unabashedly strike up random conversations with complete strangers in the grocery store line, with the Starbucks clerk, or waiting for movie tickets. I don’t gather strength from or recoup in groups of others as a general rule. I don’t need to have people around me all the time. When I want to connect with others I seek them out. It’s just that I never force it. *shrugs* I will however, dig my heels in if *you* try to force it, or me…..
Friends and lovers have been few but tend to become long-term, intimate, trusting relationships. I have friendships spanning over 45 years. That pleases me. While it may speak to my loyal Capricorn nature or perhaps an absurd inability to let go, I like to think it’s because I value those relationships enough to overlook as much of the small stuff with them, as they do with me. If friendships are a blessing, I am truly blessed.
I get along with most well enough, but I really tend to mesh and stick with others who are different either in philosophy, humor, life experience or temperament. It’s the differences I find so fascinating. I’ve spent far too many years nodding my head agreeing with my partner about every issue, only to realize in a few short years we had nothing “new” to say to one another. Call it growth, call it no growth, call it uninteresting because that’s what I call it.
Sarcastic, cynical, and sassy ones just don’t really bother me, as long as they can take what they give with good nature. I love nothing more than debate for the sake of it. I can, and will, play devils advocate. I often choose to be around those who can as well, because it is after all, debate and discourse is nothing personal. My interests are wide, my thirst for knowledge and other perspectives is a driving force in my life, and always has been. Nothing is off the table for discussion as long as you’re not telling me what I want to hear. I tend to not care so much what you believe, as long as you believe.
I don’t do “flat”.
Passion counts.
Sands of Time 