Strange Visions: Speaking from the Center

I woke up this morning with this anxious feeling trickling through me, its source not exactly known. One of my kids and one of my cats rolled on top of me on the bed, both requesting food of one sort or another. My partner got up first. I took another moment to close my eyes and process the dreams I had been having.

So strange. I don’t recall much from the visions, other than the two people many decades my senior who stopped in the middle of a dancing crowd to jump and land both feet on top of one of my typewriters, a burgundy Remington Noiseless from 1938. When the first person did it, a woman, I was perplexed and asked why. She walked off confused, and resumed her rhythmic undulations. Later, when it happened again, it was an older man, and this time he totally busted the carriage and also the iPad screen that was underneath my typewriter, which I had not noticed until after the damage was done.

Now, I have no idea what the hell this dream means, or even if it’s worth looking into. I have, though, and I wondered if this is something I should take to heart. Either way, I imagine no small part of the jittery sensations in my body have carried over from that dreamscape. I think it might also have to do with the inherent nervousness about my modes of expression, particularly the frequency and heft I tend to infuse into every phrase. Even with packing as much as I can into every word, I still tend to go lengthy and florid.

I’ve been communicating with a new friend I and told them that I’ve been a little bit hesitant in speaking as much as I would like, given that I do not wish to overwhelm. They encouraged me not to reign it in. I said that they had no idea what they were asking. (Haha.) They encouraged me to find an outlet for my expression.

Which is exactly what I’ve been doing this week.

I often feel like I am “too much.” And this is something that goes beyond verbal communication. I tend to have a high tolerance for substances. I have a lot of books at my house. A LOT. If you’ve ever seen me perform under my musical project @naturalastronaut, you know that I push my voice to its edge, both as an effort to feel it and to cut through the cacophonous sounds sod made by a variety of guitar effects and loops. My hair is a lot. Some might consider my manner of dress fairly ostentatious as well. There’s a lyric in one of my songs where I refer to myself as “flowering at the seams.”

OK — { *DEEP* breath } — I admit that I also have a fairly high desire for human affection as well. Not exclusively sensual affection, but just moments apart from this accompanying snap, we made love in a small bamboo forest not 50 meters away. There’s something about sex outdoors, in nature, that feels particularly connective. We’ve experienced long stretches in our relationship where we have been ravenous for one another. Other times, we have lengths of time where financial stress or other factors take up more of a share of our energies. I don’t always fare well during those times, prone lose my mind in self-spun narratives that depict me as undesirable or somehow loathsome. With enough internal convincing (I can make a strong case), I become loathsome. I stress us both out with worry, perpetuating marathon conversations that either find some place of sensible resolve or we are just so drained that there is nothing left to do but to sleep for what few hours remain before the next day’s duties come calling.

I don’t really have any distinct plan in place when I begin writing these micro essays other than to speak directly from my center whatever it is that is lurking beneath the surface. But I guess what I’m getting at here is that human intimacy gets weird, whether it’s a getting-to-know-you conversation with a new friend, an enduring erotic connection, passing a sea of strange faces down the street, or even intimacy unto oneself. Friends can act like strangers. Lovers can act like enemies. An individual can feel so estranged by their own personal self.

What matters most is that we extend grace in moments of perceived disconnection, to see ourselves and others as humans who experience fear, frustration, sadness, joy, and all combinations in between. We are all almost always going through our own shit. It never ends, we just learn more and grow in the process. And if the stakes keep raising, its because we’ve leveled up to the next challenge. Just make sure you find rest and sunlight along the way.

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