377 days - Blog #3 where I whine and have a glass of wine

Some days the chair just gets kicked out from beneath you.

Then you look up and think, really?  I fell on my face because of that stupid thing?

I like to think of myself as a positive person.  Not naïve, although I’ve had that word handed to me quite nicely on many occasions.  I definitely have my own irritating bit of cynicism – probably on the level that most people would rather not hear (i.e. I can’t avoid dissing professional sports, Disney, or Walmart).  But in spite of that, I like people.  I really like people.  And I understand that people, like me, have shitty days.  So it takes a lot for me to get to the point where I apply my cynicism to individuals.

And even then… staying there – better yet, feeling the urge to convert someone to my sentiment – is pretty much, mostly, all the time, a total waste of energy.

I also subscribe to the belief that nothing is really too hard to do.  Or menial.  If I am helping a larger picture, I am glad to pitch in.  I think life right now is targeting me to the leading part… but I hope I never feel that I am above the little things or the willingness to be a tiny cog in the great machinery.  The perspective of being that cog is invaluable when one has to fix the whole thing when it breaks down.

Anyway, I’m talking in vague terms.  What I want to say is bleh.  Today I am not in the mode of, hooray my birthday is coming and I have great plans.  I’m in the mode of holy Jesus, people are mean.  And petty.  And… then I just feel kind of lonely.

People ask me ALL the time if I feel lonely living out in the Podunk of Central MA all by myself.  Not really.  Being in my own company isn’t a provocation of that sense of isolation.  It’s being with people who belittle my intelligence or life experience because I don’t buy into their negativity.  Who assume I don’t know darkness because I choose not to live and speak it every single waking moment of my life.

I thought and re-thought about whether I would make this the matter of today’s blog.  I don’t want to weigh down the momentum of this ambition with such a glum introspection.  But then… here’s the thing.  Part of being an artistic soul is being vulnerable.  Bravery is not about hiding that very human element of my being.  Bravery is owning it and saying, yeah, I’m optimistic.  But I have crappy days too.

I also take pause here for the lesson.  Projecting your unhappiness is different than sharing it.  Projecting is a consequence of not being honest.  It’s part of the mask.  And the thing is, when you put on a mask, you do things you might not do in plain sight.  You become mean and tell other people how to feel.  We tell others how to feel when we ourselves won’t feel the thing ourselves.  Even if it is that invisible act of making someone’s day suck.

But… now I’ve written about it, heaved a great sigh (and had a glass of wine) and it’s done.  I’m off to a meeting.  The kind of meeting I like.  Not the kind of meeting that will require another glass of wine.

So thanks for reading another entry.  And I wish you not to catch the contagion of a yucky day, but its recovery… and if you choose a glass of Zinfandel to go with it, well why the hell not?