Pausing is Progress #3
Hi.
I paused this week — to move like water.
I rate high in conscientiousness, meaning more than most, I tend to be organized, determined, and goal-oriented. When an obstacle arises in route to my goal, my plan of action detours. The goal doesn’t change.
This week, however, I made an effort to recognize when I’m stuck in a one-track mind, and instead of detouring, I changed.
A few days ago, I sent an endearing photo to a friend. She laughed, thought I was making a joke. I went on to explain how much I adore this photo of her. “Your freckles, ugh!” After sending my explanation, it didn’t sit right. I felt myself resisting. And I changed course by making a joke of it all.
What are you resisting in life? How can you change your desires to flow through life?
This newsletter, I don’t have an essay. Instead, inspired by Simone Silverstein’s fun newsletter, I am letting you in on my past week.
Friday - December 10, 2021
For a dance social, I wore a suit. Dark blue suit, black tshirt, black Converses. I was told I look dapper. In the mirror I confirmed that.
I danced until 2am. I don't dance after 11pm. I hardly move after 11pm because I'm dead under a 20 lb blanket. The uniform brought out the right amount of macho, style, and play.
I ordered a brown suit. I'll wear it next Friday. With cream Converses. Dapper.
Saturday
I applied to be a big brother with Big Brothers, Big Sisters. I checked the box, declaring I speak Spanish. I miss stumbling through Spanish.
My ideal little brother: speaks Spanish, loves Zines (mini magazines), and dances Cumbia.
I just want to help someone.
A decade of my life was spent gaining money from people who had gambling problems. They bet against me. And they lost. They lost money which was for books to get out of a menial job or a lunchbox with an extra sandwich or epsom salts so his wife can relax after a stressful day of work.
It’s my time to give back.
Sunday
Carrots with hair are attractive.
Monday
Gmail smart-compose angers me so much I write an essay about it. [soon to be publish]
Michael Sklar emailed me a picture
I responded "That picture warms m...". A robot interrupted. A robot made up of 1s and 0s incapable of emotion offered to complete my sentence: "warms my heart." THE BASTARD DOESNT EVEN HAVE A HEART. How the hell could he feel the same way I feel about this picture of elephants snuggling together as they doze the afternoon away? I HAVE A HEART, GOD DAMMIT. . . don't I?
To confirm I have a heart, I had to rewrite. Here are some prompts that helped me —
In the photo, what do you see, specifically? Wait until a memory arises.
In the memory, what do you see, specifically?
How does that make you feel?
What does that make you want to do?
I rewrote my response into, “Ugh, do you think this family ever returns to sleeping standing up? I just see the elephant’s foot resting against his companion’s prickly back and think he’ll never want it any other way. I wouldn’t.”
Next step: start a software company. Imagine-Compose. AI-assisted imagination software. When you write something predictable or cliche, it prompts you with a question to rewrite it.
Tuesday
A friend asked a group chat for someone's HBO Max log-in info. I purchased an account and sent it to him. He broke down. Said he has needed a win. Said his aggressive German Shepard had a few incidents lately. Said he can't stop thinking about his ex-girlfriend. And more sadness. I didn't know any of this.
That night he messaged, "I'm enjoying my show tonight, thanks to you."
Wednesday
I struggled, ruminated all god damn day long.
I found this mediation helpful.
Also looking up. Looking up always helps.
Thursday
I met a friend for coffee. She's the Chilean who I write about a lot.
The face she presents to me changes faster than lightning. We are friends. We used to date. We have been enemies. Each stage, her face changes.
Thursday she wore a giant smile. Dawning that mask, she grabbed my hand. I enjoyed it, briefly. I let go. We are friends.
I again tasted her touch. And I let it go. We are friends.
And on and on…
Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday
Covid invades my body.
Happy Holidays, ya’ll. Thank you for the support. It impacts me.
Sent from bed,
Arthur