Bloggity Blog Blog Blog…

February 2, 2012

First Time For Everything

Filed under: Uncategorized — thirdxlucky @ 11:23 pm

I haven’t been able to go to the gym lately, so instead I’ve been going for hikes on the little trail near my house. This morning, I got up early and climbed to the point where the trail intersects with Baseline. I had a lot on my mind.

The past few months, I’ve been working with a crew of people I like in Boulder and Denver to get KinkForAll Denver off the ground. It’s been fun. Exhausting at times. And, like all organizing, it’s also had its moments of frustration and despair. The past couple of days, I’ve been in the despair place. And this morning, I woke up mad. I felt hurt and angry about something but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what or why. Every time I attempted an explanation, my reasoning rang false or slipped to the side.

So, I pulled on my boots and went and climbed a mountain. Well, I climbed the nicely groomed trail at the base of a foothill, anyway. I tried not to think about KFADEN but found myself processing all the way up, tromping along, blasting Ani DiFranco, growling in my head. At one point, I passed a nice middle-aged Bouldery-looking lady who stopped to ask me for help using her newly acquired iPod. There were some dogs. Y’know. It’s a trail. And by the time I got to the top, forcing myself to think and move and breathe at the same time, something had clicked. I’d figured out why I was angry. It was something I can’t do anything about and that made me angry too. But now I understood what the feeling was about, at least enough that I could shift it over here into the place where I put all the anger I can’t do anything about and move on with getting some shit done.

And then I sat and meditated for a while. I didn’t mean to. Meditation isn’t, like, a thing I do. I know a lot of people who are practitioners; I do live in Boulder, plus Elaan is in Naropa’s MA in Contemplative Psychotherapy program. So, I kinda get the theory second-hand. But I’d never actually done it before. I was just stopping to take a breath. And then I was taking another breath. And then another. At some point, my Mp3 player quit and then there was nothing to focus on besides my breath – and how cold I suddenly felt. Pebbles on the ground shifted in and out of patterns before my soft-focused eyes. My mind wrestled with itself over whether to get up and go. But I just stayed still and kept breathing.

The feeling came up slowly but there was no mistaking it. I could feel it in every part of my body. I realized that it’s there all the time. Death. My own. And my fear of it. A fear that’s with me every moment, that undergirds everything I do.

My steady breathing broke and I started crying. Sitting on that City of Boulder Parks & Rec plastic-lumber bench, I sobbed audibly to myself until I ran out of tears, and then I sat quietly for a while with my eyes closed and my hands in my pockets and just grieved. I’m going to die. I’m really going to die.

Some time passed. Eventually, I got up. Two tourists wearing polar fleece pullovers paused from snapping photos of each other at the trailhead and smiled politely. As soon as I took a step toward the road, all the thoughts came rushing back: Okay, here‘s what I need to do about KinkForAll. And what I’m going to do about my day job is… And then I’m going to write an incendiary piece about this! Or maybe I’ll totally withdraw. Go live in Lafe’s cabin for a while in the middle of nowhere Alaska – and that’s where I’ll…

Then another, softer voice whispered something. Rebecca. There is no dramatic gesture you can make that will solve the fact that you are going to die.

“Well. Fuck.” I thought.

And I turned and walked the long way home.

Advertisements

1 Comment »

  1. […] I don’t know how to make that happen. Because it seems that so often, when I try, I just get spun right back up into the seducer’s […]

    Pingback by Ache. « Bloggity Blog Blog Blog… — February 4, 2012 @ 5:39 pm | Reply


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: