intuitive skating

Skating has always provoked a sudden rush in my veins. I’d get bored of skating the way everyone else around me skated. I had to find a flight of some kind to transcendence. Haphazardly I discovered a way to get away from the demands and cares of stressful life. The idea is to be able to dance in surf-like fashion on the high waves weaving in and out of skaters without bumping into them or knocking anyone down. It's making impromptu dance movements that require cat-like agility. This became get therapy for me during my months and years of separation.

Reflector

givers and takers

Givers tend to fall into the hands of takers. It makes sense. Exploitative folks cannot implement their tactics on individuals similar in kind. While the strategies may vary, the one common denominator of takers fits this lamentable yet true description:



A pastor friend said givers seek to resolve conflicts without causing upset. They attempt to back away from toxic situations using discretion. He explained how useless this is when dealing with manipulators. Put bluntly — there’s no friendly way to get away. Furthermore (the pastor friend concluded) givers need to accept they may even be labelled the bad guy.

~ intuitivefeeling

 

On Grieving

Photo credit: http://www.terrytheweaver.com/

“We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it,

than any other person can be.” ̴ Jane Austen

When I first lived overseas, I had many dreams though I would have had a hard time to articulate them one by one if anyone happened to ask. However, I never imagined twenty years to look back upon so much discord, drama, fear and coercion [how sad]. That’s what has made recovery challenging. The worst part is I blocked out the pain during those years rather than allowing myself to grieve.

Grieving is a strange process, because it cannot be achieved by proxy. No one can do it for you and rarely will you find someone in real time that shows deep concern to accompany you through it. Maybe that’s asking too much from life. No. Grieving needs to be done alone and since I have lived in function of others, it never made it to the top of the priority list. I shared a little bit about this to someone over the phone today, but I couldn’t be sure how it was being received; whether with empathy or indifference-pretending-to-be compassion. We have had an ambiguous kind of friendship which in the end cannot be considered friendship at all. I have felt vibrations saying to the effect: “Keep it short, I have lots to do…”

[I’m typing this out as DD is in the bedroom sleeping] Anyway, I have been making progress and as a result have been feeling stronger. Today DD and I went biking at the metropolitan park. We’ve gone a few times before, but today I can say I enjoyed it. It’s not that the other outings were horrible or anything, but when you’re under the effects of despair and anxiety the vitality is missing. When you’re down, each event seems to be a test of endurance. You push yourself, so instead of building memories, you’re on survival mode. It could be sunny, but its default gray inside. It’s an awful way to live, because life already feels foreshortened as it is.

I confess my motivation for going biking [in prior occasions] was based on getting my daughter out of the house, so she wouldn’t be bored -- so I wouldn’t feel guilt-ridden -- yet secretly I couldn’t wait for the ordeal to be over even before it started. Each part of it was equivalent to climbing a mountain while loathing every step. Does that make sense? It’s good to be experiencing recovery.


̴ Reflector

Rollerblading in my Veins

photo image by http://www.inlineskating.com/

I've carried skating in my veins since childhood. It all began by watching a classmate named Neil Hill maneuver effortlessly on ice skates in a way that combined grace with physical strength. I remember the rush I'd get as I fastened my laces with a hook-like gadget, while strangulating the veins of my arches. The music then of the 60s and 70s elevated the spirit with the anticipation of capturing the heart of a pretty girl with some fancy footing and show of speed... which never happened. I could recognize the smell of an arena blindfolded. It was an amplified olfactory version of a hockey sweater that combined sweat with synthetic fiber.

[fast forward a few decades...] I continue skating today, but now it’s OUTdoor INline skating in the middle of a metropolitan park. I've purchased over the years all kinds of sporty paraphernalia from spongy, but subtle protective padding, wrist guards, nutcase multi-sport helmet, oversized shades, poliester long sleeve tops, baggy over-the-knee pants with netting inside, MP3 with ear buds, skate bag and a black bandana [tucked inside the helmet] giving that Johnny Dep gypsy look. You could say these are my toys and after I finish I put the accessories into one easy-to-find container. The advantage I have is it can be used for biking too.

At first, I thought going inline skating would be a great way of meeting people, but I quickly learned I had to lower my expectations. The majority of the skaters are in a younger age bracket so there’s a generation gap there that I didn't have to ponder about as a child or teen. Don't get me wrong. There are older men who are allowed into the inner circle, but you have to be a trainer and into roller speed racing which isn’t my area of expertise nor interest.

Accepting the role of an outsider means learning to enjoy the physical workout at face value. People may gather together in a common place to participate in a common activity, but have nothing else in common week after week... I think that is why I enjoy biking, because it's easier on my psyche. I have no social expectations of any kind. It's enough to go here and there and get back to my apartment in one piece.

One day I saw a bumper sticker that read something to this idea: “Biking isn’t easy, but that’s what makes it fun.” It has been therapeutic for me to do something that involves risk. It's one step toward developing vulnerability in other spheres where social interaction is the risk factor. Kierkegaard says that courage would have no meaning without opposition. Maturity means taking a leap of faith to show care in a world where concern for others is superficial at best.
“When man contemplates history as it is, he is forced to realize that he is in the iron grip of an existence that seems to have no real care, nor concern for his pain and suffering.” ~ Laura Knight Jadczyk