Getting Around: Between a Chevy and a Ford place

Gratitude for freedom of movement has been painting my whole day in color.

We haven't had a car for over a week (old one died outright and new one has to be fixed already) and it's been okay. I didn't know I missed the freedom of moving through space at a mere whim so much until it was given back to me for awhile by a kind friend in the form of a 1997 Crown Victoria. Surprisingly, it has made me miss the independence I used to have- even separate from my partner- as we have shared one car for over a couple of years now + we tend to have the same hobbies and interests= we're always together.

So, I now (very surprisingly) crave my own car, so I can focus solely on my own direction in life, as it is apparently sorely overdue. Unhealthy (is it?) co-dependency sneaks up upon the best of us. I don't know if I lived in another time, place, culture, or status if not having a car always available to me and having to rely on others or other systems would be more or less of a social and personal conundrum.

I didn't say much to people at first about our car problems because I dislike being made to feel like we didn't approach buying a used car with care as underscored in peoples' advice given out of hindsight. It is just that it is used, and sometimes used cars have issues, and sometimes these are major issues. People like to talk themselves into oblivion thinking they can find out the way to prevent random bad things from happening to themselves or people they are attached to. Which is nice overall, because that means they wish the best for me. It is just exhausting to rehash things you are currently dealing with when you just want help in the form of a ride to work/grocery store and not a brainstorming session.

Either way, the confinement of not being able to do something is much different than not choosing to do something. I can't tell you how many weekends I've spent not leaving my house. However, I never felt lost and unfocused (different than depressed nothingness) like I did this past weekend when there wasn't a way for us to leave. Sure, we went outside for a couple of walks, but all of my energy seemed sucked away into the stress of it all. I didn't realize that THAT was the reason for my severe mood until I was given the beautiful gift this weekend of getting around in a lovely salmon-colored dream that drives like a tank. I am so much more positive and alert. And surprised.

My change of heart of getting another car so my partner and I can each have our own is indeed surprising. Something about this idea feels healthy to me even though:
 I want to be green and save the gas,
I am a minimialist by nature and owning two of something is with the same function seems inelegant,
our dispositions are naturally patient with what others would consider extravagant inconvenience,
and we don't mind each others' sustained prescence.

We count ourselves as spending alone time even if the other person is still at home- even in the same room, we are generally and genuinely that unbothered.

But maybe we shouldn't be. Maybe we don't understand that we can drain each other without realizing it. Not saying we aren't being honest with each other or ourselves- just saying the fact of having to cope with another person's schedule puts our physical being in a state of constant awareness. Maybe emotionally we don't mind having an unconscious and constant vigiliance about the ones we love, but our reactive wiring can eventually and incrementally wear on us mentally/physically without us being aware of it. Perhaps this over time may manifest in our moods, but we cannot pinpoint the source anymore are thus continue to remain unaware of what is stifling us.

Maybe...
or maybe I'm trying to find any excuse to attach my personal rut to.
It's hard to sort yourself out sometimes. And I don't know where this experience of not having a car for awhile has actually led me to. I do know I drove around with the one and only window that goes down on the loaner car today and I felt boundless, and I felt uplifted, and I felt free.

What I like on a grey day in May

I like how water drowns out sound

I like holding a warm mug with both hands

I like seeing insects rescued from peril

I like my fingers finding transendence on a piano

I like a friend's smile just as it reaches their eyes

I like the sound of the words speckled and quiver

I like seeing the moon in the daylight

A Daily Practice... Someday

The line between personal surrender and personal criticism has been floating through my thoughts lately. To cultivate a meaningful daily practice or passion is something I have been trying to develop, but the allure of pragmatic progress is so embedded in my brain that I immediately critique my choices or try to rate it's value. I'm looking for objective criteria to grade my subjective tastes so I that I'll have some knowledge as to whether or not it's worth participating in.

So, before even my first attempt for a new practice, I investigate different methodologies of how it is done and all the various approaches, flaws, inconsistencies, and quirks. I make lists and schedules of how I think I could accomplish it or fit it into my life. Thus, thoroughly strained and sick of it all, I ultimately ruminate on the futility of even thinking any of it was truly important to begin with and worth all of the attention and analysis I gave it. Thus, I guard myself against "useless or negative experience."

Perspective. Rotate. Blend.

Such an approach succumbs to external pressure. I'm trying to validate my inner world through a reflection. The outer world is too big to be mirrored only in me. I am not appreciating my choices for myself, but evaluating them based on what is important to others.

This can be somewhat insidious because being considerate of others is highly valued and important. Often, when we say "I'm stressed" we say we are trying to live up to what people tell us is important and what we actually mean are the shallow, superficial things. However, people DO also perpetuate worthwhile, non-shallow things too: like recycling, giving back to the community, etc. So, when I want to spend money, time, and effort on a hobby I feel inclined to make it worthwhile to others as well. Again, I run into a cloaked form pragmatism, but pragmatism nonetheless.

I want to be useful, but I also want my experience to be useful to me. I think the whole reason I wanted to find and treasure a personal practice was because I need to rejuvenate myself, not society, not others. Just myself. For myself. Yet, the hypocritical hipsters, grad school over-analyzers, and a lot of well-meaning conscientious social media feeds fill me with anxiety because of the many many many unfair, environmentally damaging, racist/sexist/discriminating systems that I must live into to even take a drink of water let alone enjoy myself. So I am frozen: if I pick something to retreat into I'm "living in a bubble" and if I try to participate, I'm already complying with some things I don't theoretically support. Every little descision leads to a hyper-awareness of the tangled web of life and becomes a microcosm of moral mines because we've so much information at our disposal.

So when I say the world is too big to be mirrored in me- I guess I mean so are its issues. I can't possibly live fully into everything I agree with, support, or think is important when asked. I shouldn't demean or write off a personal interest just because I must wade through a muddy water to participate and I shouldn't think I'm any less of a person if I just want to stay home and take a break from being "informed."

 And a final thought: Experience is never useless-  chips spray and split from the stone as an image forms on the remaining relief. Every experience carves into you and leaves you with space to grow you didn't have before. And hopefully, I'll be able to put these thoughts into practice within whatever practice I choose.


Someday.