(796) Conversation with a pine tree – Part 2 of 5

Post #796
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, February 22, 2012 – continued from previous post]

I allowed my mind to wander back to where my focus has been the past day or two . . .

I’m excited about the possibility of having some kind of relationship with Luke. Sitting in the snow looking out over the mostly frozen river, it’s easy to believe the unlikely is likely. Most anything feels possible.

In the past day or two, I’ve been working furiously on my computer, examining my schedule and my to-do lists and my strategic plans for the future . . . trying to figure out what is really important to me . . . identifying activities in my life I could let go . . . trying to figure out how I can make time to go hiking . . . how to lose weight so I can go hiking . . . how to make time for taking care of my body . . . going to the gym . . . eating healthy foods . . .

I actually have somewhat of a plan pulled together now. If I hurry, I could lose weight, start hiking and get my face cleared up in fairly short order. Then, I would feel better about interacting with Luke . . . I wouldn’t feel so gross and unattractive.

I really want to continue this conversation that seems to have maybe started with Luke. I’m not sure what kind of relationship it could turn into . . . I think he would be a neat guy to date . . . but, I think the odds of him wanting to date me are slim . . . so, for now, I’ll just focus on the possibility of a non-romantic relationship. That feels more realistic to me.

I would like to explore the possibility of deeply connecting with him, whatever that might look like. Since I’m not comfortable in my skin right now, the connection through emails might be good – getting to know him through emails . . . through writing . . . he likes to write, I like to write . . . maybe that would be a fun way to tackle it. I don’t even know if something like that could come of it. But, I’m open to that possibility.

However, I’m still dragging all my baggage with me . . . despite all my attempts to hold space for hope and possibility, I still have these voices in my head: Oh, my gosh, he’s so into physio-psychology and health . . . there’s no way he’s going to date a fat chick. He probably won’t even want to connect with me on any level.

But, I have to admit . . . he met me at the book-signing . . . albeit very briefly . . . and apparently I wasn’t too fat to catch his attention . . . he still checked out my websites and he did send an email that invited a subsequent email exchange. If he hadn’t met me in person, I could say his open-ness could be because he didn’t know what I looked like yet. But, he has met me . . . and he is still open to subsequent contact. He wouldn’t have checked out my websites if he wasn’t curious about me. I doubt his interest is romantic, but there has to be interest on some level.

As I was sitting there on the trail, I found my emotions going from discouraged to hopeful to giddy to hopeless . . . all this crap was coming up for me – that I’m not enough and I’m not going to be enough and I’m going to disappoint, and a relationship of any kind with him is not possible because I’m not enough . . .

I guess I had sat there, deep in thought, for a good five minutes . . . by the end of that time, the seat of my dress pants was thoroughly soaked from sitting on the snow and my butt cheeks were numb from the cold . . . and, the wind was sucking my body heat away from me . . . and every time I shifted my body a bit to find a more comfortable position, the absence of traction would cause me to slide a few inches closer to the drop-off . . .

Five minutes was all I was willing to tolerate . . .

Photo by Martin Chen

I stood and very carefully navigated the 10 or so steps back to the highway, then crossed the highway. When I got back to the parking lot, I walked over to a pile of snow created by the plow clearing the parking lot. The pile was about three feet high. I carefully climbed to the top of the pile . . . I stood and again just listened . . . and watched the trees sway in the wind . . .

I was hoping that I could tolerate the cold better if I wasn’t actually sitting on the snow. But, again, the wind (and my wet butt) got the better of me and I quickly ducked back into the protection of my car after only a minute or so.

I wasn’t ready to go back down the mountain . . . but I still hadn’t formulated a plan around how I might want to utilize this ad hoc trip to the mountains . . . so, I sat inside my car . . . watching . . . listening . . .

I watched the trees . . . there were a few birds hopping around in the trees . . .

It was so peaceful . . . I could feel the steady pulse of nature’s heartbeat even though I was insulated from the elements.

My thoughts wandered some more . . .

Why am I here – I mean, here on this planet?

I want my life to have meant something . . . in what can I invest my time and energy? What purpose might be powerful enough to motivate me into action despite my feelings of hopelessness?

I would like to believe in, and invest in my health . . . I would like to believe in meaningful relationships . . . but, I find it difficult to hold a hopeful space around those things . . . I doubt my ability to manifest those things in my life. I find it difficult to consistently invest my time and energy into those things because I don’t have hope around them.

So, why bother trying? Why not go ahead and eat ice cream to numb the pain? Why not allow myself to get fatter and fatter?

Why deny myself the numbness – the relief of not feeling? It doesn’t do any good to deny myself that relief because denying myself that relief doesn’t bring into my world the things for which I desperately ache. It’s not like choosing to not eat ice cream is going to make my life better. It will just mean I’ll have to feel the pain that comes from not having those things I most want – I’ll have to feel disappointment in my not being enough and not being able to get my act together . . . so why suffer?

Why not just go numb? I’m not going to get healthy and I’m not going to have relationships anyway, so I might as well be numb. If I’m not going to get what I really want, at least I’ll be numb so I don’t have to feel the grief of not having it.

I stopped myself . . . and reminded myself that I was in the presence of a very powerful resource . . . I reminded myself how Luke’s words and photos – and mother nature – had all presented to me an opening into a bit of hope . . . I reminded myself that I had just caught a glimpse of how the unlikely can be likely . . .

I took a deep breath and made an effort to again shift my thinking towards the hopeful . . .

What can I believe in? Why am I here? What is my purpose? What am I working towards? Can I find a reason to be passionate about living and wanting to live and wanting to take care of myself and invest in my future?

Can I find a new way of looking at all of this . . . a way that acknowledges the pain and the struggle but also makes space for something more fulfilling?

[Continued in the next post . . . ]