I find myself trying to publish in too many places these days. It is getting to be too much, as well as somewhat redundant. I very much appreciate all the readers, followers and engagement I have gotten here over the years, but I have decided to stop publishing here for the time being.
If you want to keep up with my content, please follow me on my other platforms. Between these 2 places, you will find all my stuff, including some overlap.
I truly believe that the more we play, the happier we are. This is by no means cut and dry, nor am I pretending to be an expert, but from personal experience and in observing and listening to others, I am fairly convinced that more play = more mentaland physical well-being.
Children play to learn and to explore their environment. And the more kids get a chance to play, the better prepared they are to deal with the complexities that life throws at us.
Play breeds community, friendships and creativity. And having these things in our lives feeds our physical, mental and emotional well-being. It did as children, and I don’t believe that changes in adulthood.
I explored play in general, via sports and general fun interactions with other humans, in Part 1. Read it here if you missed it. In Part 2, I plan to explore sexual play and what it has meant to me.
This is a topic I have thought about so often since the onset of my sex life with my boyfriend, over 6 years ago. My husband and I struggled with our sex life from day 1. We waited until marriage to do the “actual deed” and then what I assumed would naturally work, didn’t. And it set the tone for our marriage.
Sex became more about obligation and duty than fun.
After I had babies, sex improved for me physically. Pain was less of a factor than it was before. This was wonderful. But, after 5 years of our pattern of guilt and obligation, it was hard to break the psychological trauma we had both put on ourselves and each other around sex.
We got better and more healthy with time and effort, and our sex life was actually quite fulfilling as far as orgasms and frequency go. But my husband always longed for something I didn’t understand. He felt like I could never sink into just playing with him.
I assumed that having frequent great sex was play, and I was frustrated that it still wasn’t good enough for him. No, I didn’t want to explore much or do things that felt outside my comfort zone. But I assumed my sex drive was just low, and who cares if our sex was somewhat vanilla? I sure didn’t.
And then I met my boyfriend.
From the first touch, everything felt different with this man. We matched in a way I’d never felt. We had crazy chemistry, our pheromones seemed to be totally in sync, and one of the biggest things is that we had trust and vulnerability very deeply and very quickly. For many reasons, those things were missing from the dynamic with my husband and I now realize these elements are key if sex is to take on a playful tone, especially in a long-term relationship.
Immediately, our sex life took on the tone of play.
I remember after we had sex for the first time, this song would not leave my brain! It still makes me laugh to think about it now, but it was so appropriate!
We were a bit awkward as we explored and learned about each other and instead of it feeling weird, we tended to laugh and keep going with endless trial and error and a lot of pleasure along the way. We couldn’t get enough, and we still can’t!
This dynamic was unexpected for us both, as neither of us lacked experience and had decent sex lives apart from each other. But it was different when we were together than it had been with other partners. There was something that felt young and innocent about our exchange when we first got together.
We felt safe.
Within the confines of that safety, we built our foundation. We explored like this sex stuff was all new territory. And even now that we know each other well, we still fantasize about being each other’s first and what it would have been like to explore sex together. This dynamic has turned into a bit of a fun kink for us.
We have the kind of sex life where anything and everything is on the table. It is always safe to ask, and it is always safe to say no. But for the most part, we just try things and push each other, and many of the things we try have succeeded for us and have fed the primal dynamic that is so strong between us.
Our goal is simply to enjoy every inch of each other and be immersed in each other. And yes, usually there are orgasms that are part of our play. Often many for each of us 🙂 But we prefer to draw out our sexual play time and edge each other for hours if that is an option. Orgasm is not THE goal, even if it is usually the result.
All our senses are engaged as we obsess over each other. We actually bask in and crave messy sex, which is something I previously hated. We play around with kink in many forms, and I’d say very little about us is vanilla at this point.
Play has bred creativity in each of us, so now we toy (actual toys, props and costumes encouraged) with the push and pull of whatever is working at that moment. Sometimes it is gentle and loving, and often it is intense and so physical we are both blissfully sore for days after a mere 24 hours together. But the overarching theme is that it is always fun to be together no matter what we get up to, we play with and enjoy each other’s bodies even if it doesn’t look like traditional sex all the time, it always feels fulfilling and the experience continues to bond us.
Just the other day, my love said that being with me makes him feel like a teenager. I totally agree! We feel young when we engage each other, and that is something when you are nearing 50! He reminded me that we are a safe space and that I can ask for anything I want. We can learn, explore and have ridiculous intoxicating sensual fun together as we play.
I cannot emphasize enough how incredible this dynamic is. Having it now after not even knowing what I was missing for 20 years seems crazy to me at this point. I was missing out on a lot, and so was my husband. Sex should never be an obligation or feel like a duty!
But now I do know, and I never want to be with anyone again without that element of play being a key, foundational part of our dynamic! Life is too short to miss out on that kind of fun!
I’ve been thinking about this topic a lot in the last few years. It has mostly been on my brain in the context of sex, because of how my boyfriend and I engage as opposed to how my husband and I did. But upon further reflection and observation of those around me, I am seeing how this concept is important in a more general sense. Not everyone is sexually active, and yet I see signs of play being needed and sought out all around me.
I plan on delving into this topic in 2 parts. Today is about the different ways we play non-sexually as adults and the benefits we get out of it. Part 2 will take on play with a sex focus. To be clear, this is not a scientific study based on scientific research. My ideas are based on my observation of and engagement with life around me.
The definition of play is to…
Engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose. Take part in (a sport). (Oxford Languages)
I also believe that play can have an important role in our mental health and physical and emotional well-being as adults.
Organized sports are one of the ways adults play, and I believe those are around post childhood for this reason. Yes, they are a way to maintain a healthy, active lifestyle. But they also bring people together in a shared goal that is often mainly for the sake of fun. It takes you out of your regular life, and it can transport you to a different place for a time period.
I am not surrounded by very many organized sports-type people. My family was more into individual types of activities like skiing, snowboarding, judo, dirt biking, hiking, and rock and ice climbing. These activities also feed the fun and play needs in our lives, especially if done with others. But even if done solo, the mental health break and boost one can get is priceless.
I have seen that look of joy on both my son’s faces when they come back from an epic dirt bike ride, especially after a hard week. It literally brings them back to life, and they are better able to deal with the hard parts of living after that distraction and perspective shift.
My favourite type of play to watch unfold is the spontaneous stuff.
I am lucky to have a bunch of budding adults around me regularly, and I get to watch them interact. For some time now, it has fascinated me that this group of 18–21-year-olds gravitate to play so quickly. I have a suspicion this is why people love to gather at my house. We are outside the city, and despite the fact that we have a tiny house, we have a lot of land and some great outdoor spaces where we can do all kinds of activities and make the kind of noise that may be frowned upon in town.
Essentially, there is room to play.
This group still succumbs to the phone-staring phenomenon we all seem to have issue with these days, but they also try to get each other out of that, which is cool to watch. When people gather at my house, they tend to want to engage with each other on some level. And it looks a lot like the play we see young children engage in.
It is often even plain silly, as suddenly a few of them start wrestling or chasing each other around! I have to remind myself I’m not looking at 8 yr olds, even though it looks oddly similar!
I have watched many of these kids grow up and have to start dealing with adulthood. As we all know, it’s not always fun. Suddenly there are jobs and post-secondary school (which feels different from grade school), bills, broken vehicles, housing issues, relationship drama, etc.
Being an adult can be freeing as you suddenly have the ability to choose where and how you spend your time, but it is also its own kind of cage because we quickly get trapped in our to-do’s and obligations.
I think this is where play comes in.
We all need to blow off steam, and we need to remember to not take ourselves or each other too seriously. We need to laugh and have fun, and it is most effective when we can share this dynamic with others (as opposed to watching something funny on TV) because I see how this builds community and relationships.
These kids come here to relive their skateboarding days and see if they can still do tricks. They ride their bikes, and we play tons of board games, card games and drinking games. They cram into every nook and cranny of our house and sleep over on the weekends, talking and giggling late into the night.
Lately, a bunch of the kids are getting back in RC vehicles and reliving their pre-teen years. We have excellent terrain for this activity, and I think they are all tired of their actual vehicles breaking down, so they are going back to toys at the moment, while many of their big vehicle projects stay dormant during the winter months.
And in the midst of all this play, there is laughter and yes, also injuries at times 🙂 But generally, there is authentic joy and safe spaces are being created. And because of that, this is where people come to talk and share the tough aspects of their week as well. Often a group of 2 or 3 break off to discuss some of life’s drama, and that is so important too.
When you can safely explore, play and laugh with people, those same humans will usually be there when life kicks you down, and you need to vent, cry or get a hug.
My bestie and I had a unique start to our friendship, which is an example of this kind of building block. Her boyfriend was my friend before she was, and he wanted us to meet, so they joined us at our timeshare vacation spot for a couple of days.
This was the first time I had ever met her in person.
We IMMEDIATELY drank too much, ate great food, laughed ourselves silly, and drank too much again. Our behaviour that first night was truly ridiculous (there may have been some crawling involved, as I lost my ability to walk at some point in the evening). But this night was the start of one of the most incredible friendships I have ever experienced.
We immediately leaned into the trust and safety we felt to play and be silly together. It bonded us very quickly and now this woman is still the place where I can share my deepest fears, sadness, celebrations, challenges, wins, losses and confusions over life. We can talk, we can solve our own and the world’s problems (or we try anyway), and we can easily laugh or cry or play together or anything in between!
I don’t have this dynamic with very many people, so I know what a gift it is. And I constantly encourage (and sometimes facilitate) my kids to keep these types of interactions up with their friends, because it will pay off in mental health benefits for the rest of their lives.
Keep finding people to play with because friends are cheaper than therapists! 😉
I’m fascinated by the past. I am taken with world history, family history and even my own history. I feel like we have a lot to learn from the past and part of what I’m trying to do in delving into mine lately, is to learn where I’ve been and see if I’ve stayed the same or grown wiser and not just older.
In the last post that I wrote about a past journal entry, I felt very frustrated with what I read because it felt so similar to where I’ve been this year. But today, in reading what I’m about to share with you, I feel slightly less pessimistic. I have chosen to change my perspective.
This excerpt is from about 8 years ago, soon after my husband and I opened up our marriage:
Why hurry, little river? Why hurry to the sea? There’s nothing there to do but to sink into the blue, and all forgotten be…. No idea who first wrote this, but I heard it from my mom over and over as a child. Today it suddenly came back to me and felt applicable.
A certain path is being rushed for me right now. I feel like I am swimming comfortably for a stretch, and then suddenly a wave hits, and I’m gasping for air. I manage to grab a branch, slow down, start breathing normally again, and soon I’m floating on top.
But this doesn’t last.
Inevitably the wave comes, and I’m overwhelmed and heading to the sea too quickly. I wish to slow down and even stop for a while on the sandy, sunny bank. But that does not seem to be my lot. It is quite possible that without the push into the river, I would stay on the warm, comfortable shore forever, living without the swimming and the potential drowning.
Some in my world say that is no way to live. I’m not sure….What’s really at the end of the river? All forgotten be…..??
I remember rather distinctly what was going on when I wrote this. Instead of rehashing it all, you can read more detail here. Essentially, my husband and I did not start out on our non-monogamy road very well. I said yes to this path mainly out of guilt, and then we proceeded very differently with opposing ideas of what we wanted and needed, and I felt like I was losing my mind in how I could never catch up to what was going on and how I felt about it.
It was truly awful. I was desperate for it all to stop, but it never did. As much as I’ve wished, life does not have a pause button.
I am still frustrated with the fact that I feel reactionary to similar kinds of material around poly. It makes me feel stuck in some kind of torture loop and makes me question all my decisions in the last bunch of years.
But the other part of me wants to choose optimism today. The point of this exercise is not to dwell on the past, but to learn from it. So here are some of the things I am seeing in myself instead of only the frustration and the feeling of being stuck…
I’m not where I was 8 years ago. I am no longer in a romantic relationship or living with my husband, which is a good thing.
I identified similar feelings around issues with my boyfriend this past year, and I likely waited longer than I should have to fully deal with it, but the point is I did eventually. I asked for what I needed and wanted. And I changed the parameters of our relationship when I didn’t get what I’d hoped for. We’ve worked to understand each other better and at this point have agreed to stay in each other’s lives, but only with certain boundaries in place, that make me feel like I am more in control than I used to be, and that give me space to focus on the good instead of the constant panic, while I figure out what I need long term.
I am no longer at the beck and call of either of these men. Yes, they are both in my life, but the relationships look different, and it is healthier for me, and I am working to make them even more healthy for me.
I have learned some communication skills and am better at asking people for what I need than I used to be.
I am learning to be independent for the first time in my life.
My home is a safe haven for me, my kids and countless others, since the change in my relationship with my husband, and his leaving our home, which feeds a long term goal of mine.
I am (slowly) learning to be ok alone and to even enjoy the time that is my own.
Life is far from perfect or ideal at the moment. As any of you who have read any of my past material knows, I have been struggling.
But I am also not standing still. So perhaps I’m not quite as stuck as I feel some days.
I am learning, I am growing, and I am pushing myself to figure out who I am, what I need, and where I want to be. I have a long way to go, but today I am choosing optimism and choosing to dwell on my successes rather than my failures.
Perspective is a choice, after all.
I found the original poem I referenced in my journal excerpt if any of you are interested. I’m not sure if I’d ever heard the whole thing before I looked it up. It’s rather beautiful, and I hope you enjoy it!
The River By Frederick George Scott (1861–1944)
WHY hurry, little river? Why hurry to the sea? There is nothing there to do But to sink into the blue And all forgotten be. There is nothing on that shore But the tides for evermore, And the faint and far-off line Where the winds across the brine Forever, ever roam And never find a home.
Why hurry, little river, From the mountains and the mead, Where the graceful elms are sleeping And the quiet cattle feed? The loving shadows cool The deep and restful pool, And every tribute stream Brings its own sweet woodland dream Of the mighty woods that sleep Where the sighs of earth are deep, And the silent skies look down On the savage mountain’s frown.
Oh, linger, little river! Your banks are all so fair, Each morning is a hymn of praise, Each evening is a prayer. All day the sunbeams glitter On your shallows and your bars, And at night the dear God stills you With the music of the stars.
The chicken metaphor used to be just that — a metaphor. But I have a visceral understanding of what that means as the keeper of chickens. Over the years I have hatched many chicks, but there is no question that the eggs in the nest, do not equal the birds you will have in real life by the end of the month.
Time and experience have given me wisdom, and now I see what I have at the start, I hope, I nurture, and I wait.
Eventually, those birds hatch, which is a frickin miracle every time! But even then, I wait. If another week has gone by once the birds are hatched, I am fairly comfortable then counting my chickens 🙂
It turns out life, in every facet, works similarly.
My most recent lesson came from my last Airbnb guests.
This couple was a young, lovely, vibrant pair who excitedly found me last minute the first time. They have 2 dogs and few Airbnb’s take pets, especially at the low prices I charge. They stayed for 3 nights and I gave them a great discount to do so.
It went really well, and they asked me if they could stay for 3 more weeks! They were trying to move to my city and needed a place to stay while they found long-term housing and jobs.
I overlooked the fact that in those 3 days, one of my vintage camper cushions was already completely worn through, and they produced more garbage than my household does in 2 weeks.
At that point, we took our transaction and communication off of Airbnb and proceeded to make a deal that was amazing for them and was enough to make my October much more lucrative than it likely would have been, given tourist season had all but ground to a halt.
They went back home for a couple of days and returned with 2 vehicles, 2 dogs and a bunch of stuff. And they settled in.
They were very friendly but also didn’t get in our way. Our property is big enough that we have quite a bit of distance between us. As their dogs got more used to the place, they did start infringing on my area. This was mostly ok with me, too, as they were friendly and listened fairly well.
I overlooked the fact that the one dog was quickly destroying my pond, stressing my fish, and digging holes in my front yard.
We plodded along doing our lives and I enjoyed having them around and our occasional bump-ins and discussions. She found a job right away, and we helped him by setting up a few interviews with people we knew.
The arrangement was pretty simple for me. Once a week, I agreed to wash their bedding and towels and collect their garbage and recycling for them. I also cleaned and spruced up the outhouse and outdoor area. It amounted to about 4 hours of work for me every week. No big deal.
I overlooked the fact that week after week, their garbage overflowed my available cans and despite setting up a system for them, they could not manage to recycle at all! They also didn’t clean up after their dogs very well and there was garbage, clothes and dirty laundry all over the outside of the camper. It was a bit odd, but then the camper isn’t very big, so I excused what I saw. They also gave me their clothes to wash (hang dry only), instead of bedding, by week 2.
Two weeks in, I got a text asking if they could stay until Spring! The rental they found didn’t work out, and they were loving it here and wanted to stay if I said it was ok. I was very excited, and we quickly negotiated a monthly rate. I gave them an out and told them we will go month by month because winter can be brutal where we live and things would get harder with this arrangement once things froze and the snow flew.
We talked through it all, and we all agreed, and it was decided they would stay through November to start. I began planning and buying things that would make their stay work through the cold that would imminently arrive.
I overlooked the fact that they kept borrowing things and not returning them.
We were enjoying each other’s company so much that I invited them to a Halloween party we had at the house. It was a total blast, and they fit in really well! We got to know each other better and as the evening wore on and more drinks were had, she confessed how much she liked me and felt attached to me. She wanted me to adopt her and be my daughter, and she wanted to be my best friend. It was rather adorable, and I felt really lucky that we found each other. We got along well, and they were a godsend as far as helping me pay some bills.
Then things started to unravel.
Two days post-party, I woke up in the middle of the night and knew something was wrong. I had a feeling they were leaving. I texted them the next day to check in and see if everything was alright. It took an entire day to get a reply, which was already completely odd in comparison to past behaviour.
All I got was an, “LOL, we are fine. Just busy”.
Another day went by, and I still felt like things were off. I didn’t even see their vehicles there at night, but thought there was a chance we were just missing each other. I sent a reminder that it was garbage and laundry day the next day and again waited. Eventually, I got a reply saying their stuff wouldn’t be ready until a bit later than normal (thus far, I’d picked up their stuff by 11 am). I said that was fine and to let me know when they’d gone, so I could get started.
By 3 pm, I hadn’t heard anything, so I finally went to check and saw the MOUNTAIN of garbage out for me. But only one blanket to be washed. It seemed odd, but I went to work and sent them a text when all was finished, like I always do. I also left them with instructions to deal with the battery charger I hooked up.
I overlooked the fact that my blanket was ripped and badly stained. No one is perfect, after all.
I didn’t hear anything from them until the next afternoon when I got a text saying, they found and signed a lease and were moving in that afternoon and wouldn’t be back. And could they get some money back because it wasn’t quite the end of the month (there were 3 days to go)!!
Shock hit me, and yet, I knew on some level that this was going to happen. I was terribly upset and took some time before I wrote them back about the reasons why they would be getting no money back and how disappointed I was in the way this went down. They were lucky I didn’t charge them for November rent! And frankly, had I had a way to get money out of them, I would have tried.
I said my peace and wished them luck, and I never heard from them again!
I am still mad about all this. They did not legally do anything wrong, but ethically this was far from ok. There was no communication and no notice about what they were up to, and there is simply no reason for that when all the lines of communication are open!
I barely had time to look at the mess they left before my son and I embarked on our trip the next day. But I was in for more disappointment and frustration when we returned.
They left me with a bit of a disaster, they took a bunch of my stuff, and they left an odd assortment of their stuff. It took me 3 days to clean up their mess, which is saying a lot for a little camper. My saddest loss was my guest book. I had the most beautiful messages in there from previous guests, and it’s gone. I’m guessing one of the dogs ate it.
This experience left me disillusioned with humans. How could you tell someone you want them in their lives forever on one day, and then leave without warning with a mess in your wake the next? I would never treat anyone this way.
I clearly overlooked a lot throughout the month they were here. But I like to believe the best about people, and I believe everyone should be given chances to do better in life, even if there are screw-ups along the way. I don’t want to change this part about myself, and yet, this experience left me a little wiser and perhaps more pessimistic.
Just like with baby chicks, I saw what I had, I hoped, I nurtured, and I waited and this time I lost.
Live and learn, I suppose. And next time, get them to sign a legal contract!
I like touch. I am not necessarily over the top as far as hugging everyone in sight. But I have always appreciated hugs and snuggles with those I’m closest to, and I crave it when I don’t have it.
I was the youngest of four children, and I believe my place in my family set my parent’s behaviour apart as far as touch. By the time I came along, my siblings were practically grown. So the dynamic between my parents and me was very different from that between them and my siblings. We had more time together, and they knew that for sure I was the last baby. So I was held and spoiled more. And I believe that started me down the path of loving touch and being comforted by it.
My husband and I had all kinds of issues revolving around sex and other things, but touch or cuddling was never one of them. We were friends for a long time before we started dating and even then, we were fairly cuddly. This continued throughout our marriage as long as we were sleeping in the same bed. Only once that ended, did touch end, too.
I remember it was a really tricky transition for us both. He wanted the cuddly type touch to continue, and I started getting uncomfortable with it, despite the fact that it was platonic. But it felt like a boundary I needed at the time. Even so, I missed that dynamic with him, and I still do.
My boyfriend and I are also very cuddly and love touching each other. But it is a different dynamic than it was with my husband. Because we are polyamorous and much of our time used to be spent with others, like his wife and kids, we barely touched at all unless we were alone. We started pushing that a bit once we knew everyone was comfortable, but it’s always something everyone is aware and careful of in our setting.
When we are alone, there is a lot of touch. Interestingly, he isn’t a touchy-feely guy at all, but he loves it when I touch him and will respond in kind. We can sit in his truck while he drives across the country, and I will literally spend hours touching him. I’ll play with his hair and kiss his neck and in some way be physically connected (don’t worry — we do this safely, of course:). It’s something that he misses when we are apart as well because our dynamic is unique to him this way.
We are also massively charged sexually, so of course, there is a lot of touching that way because our default is to play as long as we have time. It is a wonderful, fulfilling, comforting and exciting dynamic. His touch has always felt like the epitome of safety and home.
Things have always been tricky for us with regard to touch because we are long-distance. Throughout our entire relationship, I have often been left longing for more when we are apart because it’s so incredible when we are together. But since our break that started in the summer, and the revamping of our dynamic over the last 2 months, there are a lot more challenges for me. We didn’t see each other at all for over 2 months. And we’ve only been together a couple of times, in very short stints, since then.
What I have noticed is that lack of touch is one of the hardest things for me. I live with grown-up kids and there are hugs around here with some frequency, but I miss being held in that way only a lover does. I miss sex and I miss naked skin time, even apart from sex.
My husband and I got married very young, and these last few months have been the strangest and most difficult of my life since then, as far as lack of touch. I find myself suffering from skin hunger so often, and there are moments it feels almost painful for me. This is most often the case for a few days, right after I see my love.
But over time I get somewhat used to it again.
As with most things, the feeling ebbs and flows. And I am finding that this new dynamic with my love is really difficult because I get used to no interaction, and then I suddenly have a few blissful hours with him, and it starts the pain all over again.
The last time I was with him, that pain started when we were still together. We were hanging out, snuggling and distractedly playing while half-heartedly watching TV when I started crying.
I was overwhelmed with the bliss and contentment of the moment and my heart started breaking, knowing it would be over all too soon and the next time I’d have this was unknown. And yes, I realize the irony of being extremely content and then losing it the second you are cognizant of it!
There are so many underlying questions around this relationship, so I have to acknowledge that part of my grief in these moments is the unknown of our future. Never for a second have I stopped loving this man with every fibre of my being. But that has not answered whether we can or should stay together long term. And this haunts us both.
Things look different for us at the moment, and we have boundaries in place in order to make being together in some way work for us. And it is working to some extent. We both feel more at peace having something from each other rather than nothing.
But when my love is holding me tight, and I have the realization that every time could be the last, or that it will at least be a long time before I feel that loved and that safe again, it is excruciating.
Touch is a tricky thing for most humans. We all need it, and yet, it can bring pain when abused or when taken away. Touch can be incredibly powerful! But we humans are such vulnerable creatures, and what is bliss or comfort can turn to pain in an instant!
I know all this, and yet, I can’t wait until next time 🙂
This is an excerpt from a journal entry that I wrote about eight years ago…
“I remain in a state of confusion. I do not know what I want. I do not know what I can allow others to have, or even want for that matter. Not that I can control what others can do or want. So I guess I can throw that thought out the window anyway!
Do I let go and possibly lose myself, or do I control what I can, for as long as I can? At what point does that blow up in my face? Where is the balance? Or, am I so far beyond balance that at this point I just need to find different ways of keeping myself upright?
Why does everything feel so hard? Why is it a constant struggle, dare I say battle? My mind is weary. I want peace. I want contentment. Maybe, I even want boring.
I get glimpses of boredom, and I rest in those times while I can. But, in those rare moments, a different fear strikes me. I am afraid that despite my great offence to the very idea, my life, and I mean some of the greatest parts of my life, is feeding off this confusion and discontentment.
Do I need these lows to feed the highs?
The thought is scaring me and again, adds fuel to the discontentment fire. I am in a vicious cycle. How long can I remain in this never-ending tumultuous state? How long until my mind can take no more? How long until the fuse is just too short, and I get badly burned or worse…?
How long?
Thus… I remain in a state of confusion.”
I was going through some of my old writing and journals recently, and this excerpt made me pause. It feels all too familiar.
This could have easily been written this past year, and it made me wonder what on earth is wrong with me. Yes, different things are causing the similar feelings. But still! Why did I keep going down such a crazy path for so long when I had those feelings back then already?
Granted, many things came up and circumstances changed over the years. I was committed to learning and growing and pushing myself. And I saw glimpses of hope and in some ways, I found what I wanted in my polyamorous journey, especially because of the man I found. So I wouldn’t say I regret my path necessarily, either. But it still makes me wonder.
Did I have to go through all of it to get to a place this year when I finally made some hard decisions to stop the madness?
But then I question if I’ve really stopped it.
I am no longer living with my husband, but we have also made little progress as far as formally ending our marriage in a way that will work for us long term. Every time we make a decision or take a step, something else puts it on pause, and I feel like I’m in some kind of holding pattern. Yes, it’s better that we are apart. That was necessary progress. I have disengaged from the worst parts of being together. But there are still hard parts that feel like they have no end in sight.
Then there is my love. We are still in some kind of relationship, despite the fact that it looks different. Yes, I have put some big boundaries around us and around me right now, and I have held on to them. It is better this way than where I was at a few months ago, but again, it has not solved our long term issues. I can’t let go of this man. I don’t want to. And I’m not sure if what I’m doing is insanity.
Could my fear be true? Am I scared of boredom, and am I somehow secretly or subconsciously addicted to the chaos?
Many things have changed in my life since I wrote that journal entry. Circumstances are very different in many ways. But so many feelings have stayed the same, and I’m still not sure what the answers are, how to move forward or what I even want in the long run. I thought I was as self-aware as people come, but these days, I am questioning myself big time.
If I can’t figure out where I want to be, how on earth am I supposed to get there?
I feel stuck. And I am frustrated. And I am actually kind of embarrassed to be writing this. But this is me. This is where I’m at today. And I’ve been nothing but honest on this platform so far, and I have no reason to be stopping that now.
Back to the drawing board, I guess… Maybe tomorrow will feel less foggy and frustrating.
Ernest Hemingway
There is nothing to writing.All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
My youngest son and I just got home from our once-a-year trek to our timeshare at a hot-spring resort town about 6 hours from home. Typically, there are more than two of us, but my oldest son couldn’t get time off from his new job, and we couldn’t find any friends to join us this time. So my youngest and I decided to embrace this situation and enjoy, just the 2 of us.
We are both the types who have a hard time relaxing for the sake of relaxing. We like to stay busy and feel productive. But we only had 3 days there this year (my husband and his new family got the other half of the week), so we made a few plans and decided to fully embrace doing nothing, interspersed with some hikes, brewery tours and some fun cooking.
I’m happy to say we mostly succeeded at this! We did some stuff, and we did a lot of nothing, and it was mostly lovely!
My son and I have a very close and easy relationship. Out of anyone in the world, he is an easy favourite pick to hang out with in almost any situation. We have similar senses of humour, we talk easily about anything and everything, we know how to make almost any old mundane situation fun, and we laugh about things that make no sense to much of the world.
I was reminded, once again on this trip, that all these things hold true! And I was grateful that we were able to have this time together.
But one thing was a fact for us both by day 3. We were getting antsy.
The weather was terrible that day, so besides making a trip to the hot pool, we did even more of nothing than we had the previous days, which you would think would be nice, but we both had huge lists waiting for us at home and all we could think about was that we were wasting our day. It was ridiculous!
We talked each other into chilling out and ended up making the most of our downtime. But when we got home last night, reality hit like a ton of bricks.
I went into work mode immediately. The fire had to be started asap so that we would have hot water and heat to get us through the night. Temperatures plummeted around here yesterday so we had to run around and make sure we were ready for everything to freeze. Unpacking had to get done. Animals needed tending. Then dinner had to get made. My other son popped by for something so we had a bit of a catch-up. And finally, lists got made for today.
I thankfully managed a hot shower before bed, but I was just plain cranky by the time I got there.
It was freezing in my room, we lost Wi-Fi last night, and I was cranky because my guests who were booked for November backed out last minute with no warning and left me with a huge mess and none of the money I was depending on. On top of that I wished I had someone special to go on vacation with, I was jealous my husband found that person and I never did and was enjoying the rest of the week at my vacation spot, I was mad at myself because I’m always worrying about money, etc, etc… I was seriously wallowing!
Thankfully, I had a good sleep in my bed that is 5000 times more comfortable than the bed I experienced on my vacation. But today has been about as crappy as I thought it would be, for me and my son.
I have gotten a ton done, but I have so much more to do. The guests took more of my stuff than I initially realized, but they also left strange smatterings of their stuff behind. It has made for a lot of work for me and some hurt feelings, honestly, after they seemed like such great people! I am 5 loads of laundry in and maybe halfway done! My son cannot get to the bottom of an issue with his truck that he thought he’d have fixed by noon. And the snow is now falling in a much more dramatic fashion than we expected!
We are both exhausted!
And it has left me wondering why we go on vacation at all! Rejuvenation?? Ha!
Rejuvenation the action or process of giving new energy or vigor to something. (Oxford Dictionaries)
Every time I go somewhere, which is almost nowhere these days, I feel the same way. It is so much work to get away, and it seems to be even more work to come back. Yes, those days off were a nice break. But was the break enough to counteract the next few days of chaos? I don’t feel particularly energetic or vigorous today, despite my few days off from life.
I fully realize that the fact that I can even write a post like this speaks to a certain amount of privilege in my life. So please, don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for the opportunity to see other parts of the world now and then and to have a chance to escape life a bit.
It does help to get me out of my head to some extent, and boy did I ever need that this week. I was losing my mind before we left. So yes, my vacation was good. I enjoyed the quality time with my son. And I am grateful I even had the option to go somewhere.
I just mull over what makes a vacation worth it for the price you have to pay to be gone. Because today has been a pretty crappy day and I feel completely overwhelmed with life once again. I’m not sure I can say I’m rested and rejuvenated at all. I was able to rest. But the feeling of rejuvenation barely lasted the drive home.
Ok ok, my venting is over and I should probably quit whining about my vacation now because it’s going to be a year before I likely have the chance to go somewhere again, and soon I’m going to get antsy about not being able to get away or having anywhere to go.
Funny how we humans lose perspective and slip out of gratitude so easily, isn’t it?! Or maybe it’s just me!
Enough wallowing for one day! Yes, I have a lot of work to catch up on which feels like a lot at the moment, but I am still grateful I got the chance to get away and have that kind of time with my kid.
Thanks for listening. Yay for writing — I feel better 🙂 Time to get back to the laundry, and then I need to start dinner and probably shovel some snow…
My eyes flew open, and my heart was instantly racing!
I didn’t even realize I’d been asleep. I had been laying in bed trying to stay awake, but instead, kept dozing as I wondered if my brother was, in fact, going to show up that night.
I had talked to him earlier in the day, and he suggested he might get home a day early. Mom and Dad were in Europe for a few weeks and my big brother was planning to come and keep me company for a few days. It was a long weekend, and he had managed to get extra time off work, which would help compensate for the 10-hour drive to get here.
I sat up in my bed and had my ears peeled for what startled me awake. I assumed I had heard a car drive up our road and then turn in and park on our driveway. Sure enough, less than a minute later, I heard a car door slam shut. I waited, still thinking I could be hearing a neighbour. I stole a glance at the clock. 11 pm. A little late to be getting home for most of this sleepy, old neighbourhood, but not out of the realm of possibility either.
My question about whose house was to be the recipient of this late intrusion was soon answered when I heard a key turning in the lock and the deadbolt to the front door opening.
I smiled to myself, happy to have my bro home. It had been a long while since we’d had a visit. I laid back down to wait.
We were big into pranking each other, and I was assuming that at this late hour, he was hoping to scare me. I figured I’d indulge him for a bit and then scare him first!
I heard quiet shuffling as he got in the door. A few seconds later, the steps were being ascended. He was going very slowly and treading carefully, but I was smiling to myself, knowing it would be tough to navigate every old squeak. Sure enough, he hit one! I giggled quietly to myself, but stayed in bed.
It sounded like he was at the top of the stairs and heading around the corner into the hall. My room was only a few steps away…
I smiled and waited.
I waited and wondered.
Then I waited some more as my heart rate began to increase, and the sweat started seeping out of my pores.
I waited, but he didn’t come.
Where was he???
I shakily turned on my light after what felt like an eternity. I forced myself to get up and look around. There was no sign of my brother. The hair was standing up on the back of my neck.
My brother wasn’t there. So who was?
Paranormal of or relating to the claimed occurrence of an event or perception without scientific explanation, as psychokinesis, extrasensory perception, or other purportedly supernatural phenomena. (dictionary.com)
My brother showed up the next day. I never figured out what happened that night. But this was the catalyst for my siblings and I sharing similar stories with each other over the next while. Apparently I was not the first person in our family to receive an unseen visitor…
What to write? Where to begin? Wait, let me get a glass of gin. Ideas are floating. Thoughts permeate. Will one of them take hold and resonate?
My mind always returns to you. I feel haunted. I miss that constant feeling of being wanted. I have forgotten what it’s like to be held. To touch you. Awakening with you to the morning dew.
Desire is there. Want is deep. But I know there are some creeks I cannot leap. I feel pain. I feel sadness. Some days I can’t cope — there is no gladness.
I try to forget. I try to move on. From my life now, you are mostly gone. Will something new come? Will it fill your void? Or will all others leave me feeling annoyed?
We had a connection. We felt a bond. If only I could make time go back with my magic wand. We’d hold on tight. We’d take our time. Knowing what I know now, how things can turn on a dime.
Life is empty. Life is full. Sometimes you have to fight for life, like a red cape attracting a bull. Can I forget? Can I forgive? I must do what I can — it’s time to live.
I can’t hold on. Memories will fade. Life, here I come again, put away the blade!
My Journey to Now 
