...All I want right now is to take Marian and Brenna with me to the cottage for part of my holidays. But I doubt whether it will happen....
Sometimes the only thing I can offer him is patience. Last year I uncovered this bottomless well of it. I know how to listen even when he is angry at me. Most of it isn’t about me personally, after all. He has so much stress from the guilt, from missing his kids, from handling an unpleasant job and supporting two households on an inadequate wage....
I look forward to Saturday. Whether Marian and Brenna are with us or not, Lake Fletcher will surely bring solace. D. told me this weekend that he has noticed I am more peaceful there than here in the city.
Fletcher is my analgesic, my narcotic. It washes the pain, eases the sadness, heightens the senses to all that is beautiful. Soon I will immerse myself there.
...The trees across the road are full of air, water and fire; sun shines warm, their leaves tremble against a pure sky. It reminds me of one of those cool, fresh, perfect Lake Fletcher days. I want to see the girls a part of that picture....
It doesn't do any good [for D] to blame his circumstances on anyone, not on his Dad, not even on himself. We have to take responsibility for our choices and for our feelings. And somehow, in the midst of the bad, we have to find the good....
...If I want anything to move anywhere I have to be a fighter, all tooth and nail. But I don’t want to be angry. I want peace, reflection, a slow and thoughtful approach to life.
Anger is not something I should fight. It tells me when my needs and values have been violated. It tells me when I need to act. But this tired, depressed spirit of mine keeps dragging, holding back, fighting off the anger. In fact this desire for quiet is an alluring trap, a seduction, a mire in which all of my hopes and identity could sink.
I have thought a lot about giving up, going to live with D. in Orangeville and trying not to care if I lose the role that I have in Marian and Brenna’s lives, lavishing all the love on S. and E. [D's children] that I want to save for my own daughters. But I would betray myself, and I would betray them if I did that. I must let the anger wash over me when it comes, and somehow find a rock to hold to in the middle of the storm. Which brings me back to faith, but my old evangelical beliefs are outdated and useless. I don’t need a 2,000-year-old Jesus floating on a cloud in glory. I need to find a new and relevant understanding of the universe, an inner spirit that is strong and vitally attached to me, where I am.
The burst of anger has released a sense of restlessness and exploration. This morning I roamed the Internet trying to find more information on html. I got more ideas for development of my home page, but not the patience to work on them. Instead I played around with Paint Shop Pro, experimenting with my first efforts at graphic art. Perhaps I will post them on a web page.
I’ve been constantly hungry the last few days, but our grocery budget has constrained my purchase of snack food. There’s nothing I can easily grab, except breakfast cereal.
For several weeks I played a lot of Magic® against myself out on the balcony during the days. Somehow I was intrigued with the interaction between different kinds of powers and abilities. Suddenly it seems dull, as do all the computer games.
Now I want to create. I want to do calligraphy, write poetry, write in my journal, do graphic art, build a home page. Even Paradox, the talker where I spent so many hours, days and weeks last year, doesn’t attract my interest. I feel bored.
...I am hungry and restless. I can stop yawning. Yesterday I kept so busy that I completely forgot to have a shower. What is going on?
I need to get a lot of things done today and tomorrow; laundry, tidying the apartment, packing, grocery shopping. I have to figure out what I am doing with the plants, and what I will do about the canary and the fish....
All written material and images are ©1997-2001 Van Waffle. This page updated Feb. 11, 2001.
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