I'm Awake?

Is this day three or four...3 or 4 of my new journey challenge. I'm still tired.  I looked at my blog today and I think I need to change the picture on it or decorate it or something.  I'm not sure I'd want to read this if  someone else had written it. I re-read yesterday's post.  I was so sleepy that I don't remember writing it and it wasn't finished either

Work this weekend was unsatisfying.  I have this uncanny urge to just fly away like Peter Pan and go live with the lost boys. I love distractions because they give me an excuse not to deal with the issues at hand. Work, for me, is a distraction from real life.  I get to try and solve somebody else's issues for a whole 12 hours a day.

It's amazing how judgemental young people can be.  How uncompassionate. Like congenital Republican extremism.

I was talking to my young coworker. I will call her Ruby. (Why Ruby? I have no idea...it just seemed short enough and easy to remember).  I mentioned to her this weekend about an older coworker, whom I will call Inid, who just resigned and who I will miss dearly.  I told her about how much fun I'd had with Inid and  I suspected that she was illiterate.  Ruby felt that the Inid should not have worked there because she was a danger to the patients because she couldn't read.  I told her that the job should have offered her classes, instead of ostracizing her.

Ruby didn't feel that it was the job's responsibility to offer her classes.  I didn't either.  But, I've worked for employers who offer help  resources to employees who need it for things like illiteracy or high school diplomas. It makes the employee and the employer that much better.  On a job where the business is to help people how can you not help the people that you hire to help people?

It doesn't make sense. 

I stopped talking to Ruby because she didn't understand. And she was getting on my nerves. I told her that the conversation was over.  I was exasperated.  Okay...that's not all.  I talked about how my who Inid resigned was treated when she first came on the floor. Ruby still, thought that Inid should have worked somewhere where she didn't have to read.

The thing is:

Ruby was treated awful too when she first came on the floor, but she didn't remember that.  Hmm...

I can't even attach the word perfect to my name. But, I know that in most cases, I'm compassionate.  The quickness in which humanity detaches itself from being human is scary.  Our definition of compassion is incorrect and dysfunctional because we think that compassion is synonymous with pity.  Pitying someone doesn't do anything for the other person except reinforce the pitiers illusion of superiority.

How sad is that?

Anyway, my young friend thought I was mad at her and she kept telling me she loved me throughout the remainder of the shift.  I repeated to her "I love you too".  Just to let her know that there were no hard feelings about what we discussed.

Day three or four...day 3 or 4?

New Journey?

I need to write.  It is a vital part of my existence.  I don't know why it is that way.  But I must have been born like that.  I've wielded a pen ever since I can remember.  I looked at my journal the other the day.  About 18 years ago I wrote some things that I wish I hadn't.  But, that is how I felt at the time.  I can't believe that was me.  So my angst...I've come to the conclusion that every angst that I have...have expressed...tend to feel is not generated by some outside influence, but comes from deep down inside of me.  Scary, huh?

My anxieties, may dislikes, my likes, my vulnerabilities, faults...  That's a hard pill to swallow when you've been blaming your childhood, your boss, your mom and dad, grandma, your ex husband.  I don't always blame people for my stuff. Not all the way.  Sometimes, I take responsibility for my stuff and then just feel like it's someone else's fault.  Like that job that I took and then realized that I couldn't do that job and just didn't show up for work after I let the people convince me that I could do the job. It's their fault they should have hired me when I really needed a job...that's what I thought at first.

I still have angst...but I want to move past angst to love and contentment.  I am tired of feeling like it's me against the world...for whatever reason.  The world has not done anything to me.  I have always had a fascination with Ghost Hunters and the afterlife in general.  But, I need to pay full attention to my present life.  I'm not dead yet.

I read an article this morning about a man who is in jail for stalking people on the internet and encouraging them to commit suicide.  I'm not judging this fool but this case is the beginning of the thought police.  Virtual cases are hard to prove.  Five people committed suicide and he admitted that he enticed and encouraged them.  But, the people themselves were responsible for actually acting...weren't they?   He was a nurse by the way...I'd love to follow this case to see what the outcome would be.  Makes you wonder where personal responsibility actually begins and ends.

Anyway...this is just a page of musing...things I thought but would write and not dare say for fear of being thought of as weird...  I think that this might be the end of journey to the center of my angst.  I am considering starting a new blog. I still like this one though, but it's time for me to move on. 

But Still

I can't continue to work like this. When I say that what do I mean?  I can't continue to bouncing off of walls like this.  I can't continue to work seemingly purposeely. Ican't continue to wander aimlessly through life...doing the same thing over and over and over again and expect different results.  I can't continue to expend my energy and not replenish my energy. 

So, if I can't continue to work like this, how can I continue to work?

I don't know.  That's where quiet, or stillness comes in.  I guess it will come to me.  I don't have the psychic capacity to figure anything out or go with the flow. I'm waiting to hear from the depths of my core and it spits out these   That's where stillness comes in.  I had an experience of stillness yesterday that helped me to understand where my anxiety comes from. I'd had insominia for three nights.

I realize that anxiety comes from deep down inside.  It is triggered by external events.  It's already there.  It takes something external to draw it out.  I can control it. I used to think that I was required to be afraid of any and everything.  Now I know that I'm not required to be afraid of anything. 

Stillness.  I had insomnia and made myself sleep... I think that the thought of being still surrendering frightened me because a part of me thinks that I controls things.  Maybe, it's the little girl part that was made to responsible or blamed for things beyond her control . I don't know.  The things that I should be responsible for I am not responsible for because I'm so busy being responsible for everyone and everything else.  No one asks me to do those things. 

The still life.