Taboos

I'm about to put all I own on my back and move on for the 4th time this year.  It'll be the 6th or 7th city that 2011 has seen me live in. Inexplicably, I look to this move, more than the others, in the grip of the fear. 

You know, the fear.

The Fear

Unlike recent travels, this move won't even take me out of the province, let alone the country.  Why the fear creeps over me I don't know; but I have my suspicions.

Fear is a physiological signal from the body indicating that it perceives danger.  Yet I scan my environment finding no sharks, no tsunamis and no falling pianos from above. No danger. 

OK heart and brain...what's up with the fear?

2 possibilities emerge:


1) Gas prices and unreasonable taxes from a forever interfering gooberment have me on edge. Live long enough in Canada and, this chronic anxiety eventually becomes unpleasant background noise. Maybe being new here, I haven't yet grown callous & uneasily apathetic to being systematically ripped off. Is the Canadian way causing the fear?

2) Maybe the fear is caused by some transgression of taboo.  People are more unsettled of taboos then they usually realize (myself included).  Find out your friend is incestuous, or the person you're having a conversation with is schizophrenic, or somebody in the neighborhood has HIV/AIDS... and you get he-be-jee-bees. If gays turn you running away, then homosexuality is a taboo for you.  

What personal taboo could I possibly be transgressing by my current move?   
The success/failure taboo. Tied into the move is a step towards a goal of mine--a step with the risks of failure. When merely traveling, 'failures' end up being adventures, which end up being awesome stories. In pursuing goals, failures end up being sucky. They become opportunities to let old wounds fester or to reinforce ideas like 'incompetent', 'unworthy', etc.  Notice that not only failure, but success too can be a personal taboo. Succeeding at something might not be congruent with one's foundational and below-conscious self-conception.  People like this literally (and usually subconsciously) believe themselves to be incapable, incompetent, unworthy and either explain away or ignore contrary evidence. Success ushers fear into a self-contemptuous psychological environment. 

So, what's causing the unease?  Is it financial burden, fear of failure, or fear of success?

The Humming Bird and the Tortoise

An open question.

What is your preferred life-style choice?

Is it the sugar high? A life-style that ends with you skidding across the finish line beaten up, on your last legs, screaming wooo hoooo!!!

 Or a slow, calculated and enduring life, evenly measured in afternoon coffee spoons, where you come to an end on a lazy-boy?

Confessions of a 5-toed Sloth

1) . "D'ja crack it over your head?" asked my grade 11 chemistry teacher.  I was like, "no" and scoffed. But the on-coming blush was like, "yeah, I sure did".

The object in question was a hardcover chemistry textbook, and actually, I didn't crack it over my head (thank-you very much Mr.Blush). I slammed it repeatedly with enough force that I saw stars as the cover buckled.  I was that confused.

I really wanted to be a genius and this textbook was providing me with evidence that I probably wasn't one, and so I thought, "maybe a little brain damage will give me that extra shove into Einsteinian IQ".

2) So that last sentence wasn't true, it was a sarcastic "joke".  I really broke the book over my head because I have a neurosis that causes me to punish myself and I'm trying to make light of it. OK? Yeah, thanks.   Thanks for making me put it all out there, for all to see and judge me by.  As long as you feel the need for me to bear my bleeding soul, you should know that I don't use blunt objects any more to punish myself. I find words to be quite effectively painful. So there, happy?

3) I'm such a stupid, stupid jerk for being rude to my readers.  They hate me, and they should.

4) I took my expensive camera to the dump to take pictures (OK OK, my dad drove me).

It was nice to get out of the house.  It was a break from the usual (ie. nothing)

5) My daily "to-do" lists these days are sparse:
1) drink morning coffee.
2) wait for colleges to contact you.
3) go back to bed.

Wow. This post is super organized. I could, if I wanted to, refer you to section 5-3, the "going to bed" clause.  

6) But seriously, I'm 33, I'm divorced, I have no job, no house, no car and no clear 5 year plan (I'm also single ladies, and at times I fancy myself a genius. Call me). Instead of seeing this as a world of possibilities, I sit and stew. I'm dancing to the wrong song: Don't happy, be worry. And with a to-do list like that, I've got lots of time to dance.


Sometimes I try to change myself. Here's a method I've used that never works and always provides me a brain hernia:

1) Promise myself that I'll do a 180 degree turn, starting tomorrow.
2) Next day, make an unsustainable plan, fuel myself with coffee and ill-tempered motivation, and throw myself at it.
3) Seriously lose it at the first or second obstacle.
4) Blame them! Become rage.
5) Blame self. Become despair. Crumble.
6) Console with cake and deep, unflinching uneasiness. 

Starting tomorrow (oh, here we go), the agenda will be as follows:

1) Drink morning coffee
2) Examine what is keeping me inactive (fears, most likely)
3) Deconstruct them (are they valid fears?)
4) Wait for colleges to contact me.
5) Go to bed.

It's early in the morning here. Sections 6-1 or 5-1, the 'drinking morning coffee' clauses, will give you an indication of why I'm going to walk away from the computer now.