I Yam...

I’ve spent quite a lot of time lately thinking about “stuff.” My father would have said “contemplating my navel” because there’s almost as much use in it. But still, I’m thinking… and thinking… and thinking…

Here’s something that keeps resurfacing:

*in best Popeye voice*
“I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam.”

There have been a lot people traipsing through my life over the past several months. Some new, some returning, a couple I borrowed just to see if it could be done… and I’m wondering, where is the common thread? These things don’t just “happen.” Why are they here? What do they want? And am I attracting them or is The Universe sending them to me? And if The Universe is sending them, why? Should I be getting something from them, or are they here to take something away for themselves? I hope it’s the former and not the latter because it’s been a deluge of people, People!

Of all the "traipsters" who meandered through, one in particular made quite the quiet impression. Not for any untoward wink-and-a-smile smarminess, or random stalking. No, it’s because he’s oddly “present” all the time – a feat this ADHD kid has never mastered and finds freakishly unsettling.

This cat is like a character from a movie, so clearly I’m fascinated! And skeptical...

*squints*

He is disarmingly open. Ask him any question – and the more personal it is the more interesting his response, I’ve found. He thinks, then looks at you in a way that makes you know you’re being seen, before delivering a simple, honest, “oh-my-gawd-I-would-never-say-that-out-loud” response. It’s cool. And weird.

Recently, a group of us were out for a drinks session. After what I would consider an appropriate number of cocktails, I made some comment about heading off to “my real life.” With a face quizzically scrunched up and arms spread wide he said, “this, all of this, is your real life.” Okay, I know it sounds stupid but that seriously tossed me so far off balance, I sloshed my martini.

Have I so compartmentalized things to maintain order that I cannot reconcile all of the parts?
Can I see only the shoes boxes, not the closet?

So there I was, driving home… and thinking, thinking, thinking. Is this whirling dervish life what I want? Or is it just what I’ve created and understand? Could I learn to be present? Between you and me, I lie about being present during yoga practice. And frankly, I also lie about it during meditation. It’s really not my fault. Focus is just not my strong suit (what does that even mean? Anyone?).

Do I want to be one of those people who lives in every moment? Because that seems like a lot of work.
Maybe.
In the right company.
With vodka.
And figs…