Morning And Night

So, I have decided to get out of the house more. I find there are a lot of excuses as to why I can't, especially on work days. In the end, those are all bullshit. The harsh language only shows the seriousness of the statement. If I leave it up to myself, I will come up with reasons why I can't get out and breathe the fresh air.

As of July 1st, there have been no excuses. Yes, it's only July 3rd, but that's three days and we don't sniff at successes. We celebrate them. Because there is enough negativity and a little positive thinking goes a long way. In fact, it might just get me out of bed tomorrow morning.

They say routine kills you. I mean, I don't know who they is, but one of them is Paulo Coelho. He's responsible for the quote pictured below.

And it isn't that I disagree with him. No, I think adventuring and exploration, of mind, body and nature, is important. But I also think routine can help you out of a rut. If something is truly important and you make a habit of doing it, then maybe it transcends routine. Maybe then it becomes living.

I've decided to make reacquainting myself with the world part of my routine. Twice a day. Morning and night. 7AM and 7PM. I will be out in the world, breathing the air and moving my limbs. Right now, this is almost a chore. Don't look at my like I am lazy. It takes energy to tie those sneakers up. But I feel the benefits already. This is a nice way to start and end my day. It gives me time to gear up and down.

Okay, so this is routine right now. But I suspect by the end of the month, it won't be routine. It will be something I look forward to. Something I love. Moments I cherish because I am alone and reconnecting with Mother Nature. Eventually, I will only have one routine and it will be this:

Just Passing Time

They say you only live once and to live life to the fullest. To cram it with the things you love, what makes you happy, to enjoy every moment and embrace every minute. In theory, it makes a lot of sense, but who has the energy to make every second of every minute of every hour of every day count? While I truly do believe life is far too short for hate and anger and ill will towards others and that you should make the most of what you are given, it is inconceivable to never have a sad or angry or disenchanted moment, to never curl up and say, "Not today."

Life is a beautiful thing. This world is an amazing place. There are gentle, kind people around us every day, ones we know, others we don't. Strangers who are waiting for us to notice them, ready to impress upon us understanding, compassion and empathy if only given the chance. Good things happen, ones worthy of taking notice of, and there is much to learn. We have so much growing to do.  And I am ever so grateful for what I have, where I am, and all the things I can do.

Sometimes I think about all the books I will never read. All the stories I will never write. The trails I will never hike. Sights I will never see. Songs I will never know. Majestic places I will never visit. And when  I think about all the things I will miss out on, I feel this fire to get out and do, to see, feel, hear, smell, learn and experience. To conquer and thrive, to draw deep breaths, and free fall into wonderment. At my most passionate, I don't want to settle down. I refuse to stop. I go, go, go until I've walked through the deserts, danced in the stars and swam to the unexplored depths of our oceans. I want to soak up everything the Earth has to teach me, the lessons of soil and air, of fire and water. I want to burn with the sun and kiss the man on the moon.

But some days, I am not at my most passionate. Some days, I am tired. Some days I am just passing time.

It's so very easy to get distracted and lose sight of what's important. Not food, clothes, and a roof over your head, but what stokes the passion inside you. What turns the cogs in your head and sets your heart beating rampantly. Passing time isn't necessarily a bad thing. It happens organically. We set patterns in our lives, so easy to follow, and focus so intently on getting from point A to point B. Still, I feel it is important to stop the wheels of routine. To check in with our souls and make sure they are getting what they need, that we aren't overlooking them. Life is a hustler, trying to hustle us into forgetting to check in. It's always tell us what to do, when it needs to be done and how to do it. Our lives end up revolving around a clock. What time is it? When do I have be at work? What time do I get up? When is dinner? Do I have enough time to get this done? We go to bed in order to get up and do it all again.

Don't get me wrong, routine isn't all bad. It's comfortable and safe, except when it controls every facet of your life. Then it is uncomfortable and unsafe. We must be willing and ready to step out of our routines at a moment's notice and witness the wonders the world offers us. For it's when we pass time for too long that it becomes normal to just pass time, and we forget what we used to do before we were just passing time. This is what I worry over the most. That I am not living. That I am missing out.

I want to be with the ocean. In the forest. Playing outside. Going to the movie theatre. Learning things I don't have to learn. Growing strong and smart. Gazing at the stars. Reading words, fictional and not. Baking bread and cookies and cupcakes. Eating cake. Holding hands. Being kissed. Kissing beings. Making and maintaining friends. Snuggling with my fur babies. Drinking tea. Knitting gifts. Solving puzzles. And taking on a challenge.

Above all, I want to write. Words are my life. They always have been. I feel so distracted and out of sorts when I am not creating. And I know I haven't been creative enough lately, which is why I am feeling so off and worrying so much and turning my thoughts inwardly instead of outwardly. It is strange when you know something is so fundamental in your own happiness and still you cannot find the time to do it. Excuses, right? We are full of them. These daily posts do help. Despite how it may seem, I put a fair amount of thought into most of these and I take care in writing them. But they aren't fiction and that's what I truly love to create.

Perhaps this is me simply saying, "No" to just passing time.

I'm off to go kill someone. Fictionally, of course.

To Be Desired

Last night I was in bed, unable to get to sleep, and I started thinking about desire. No. Not my phone. The act of desire. Feeling desired. Or making someone feel desired.

You see, people like to feel desired. Not just women either. Men too. They want to know that others think they are attractive. We all do. And not just from our partners. Even when we are in loving, caring, amazing relationships it can still feel good to have someone else desire you. Compliment you. Think you're the bee's knees.

See, most of the time, the task of making us feel desired comes down to the people we take to bed with us. Mostly meaning our partners, girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, husbands, sidekicks. It's kind of their job to make you feel desired. Attractive. Admired. Coveted. Longed for. I mean, it shouldn't be hard to do, right? Because you shouldn't be going to bed with someone you don't find attractive, right?

Well, not exactly. Trust me, my bubble was busted too.

A couple months ago a male friend told me men will sleep with any girl (we are saying girl simply because it jives with the fact that I am a heterosexual woman and am really only interested in forming sexy relationships with men who like the ladies. For all I know, this might actually apply to gay men as well, but at the point in time we were actually discussing men who like chicks.) Anyway, this friend also went on to clarify that it didn't matter whether the dude was even attracted to the person or not, he could still knock boots with her regardless of whether she was hot or not.  

Yeah, it seemed pretty harsh to me. Mostly because the thought of someone sleeping with me only because Monday night bowling was cancelled made me feel sad. My friend said, even though men preferred their booty buddies to not be dogs, if push came to shove...you get my point. And then I found myself kind of disenchanted because sex isn't just sex to me. Maybe I'm a hippy but I think there should be some sort of attraction going on there. But even if there is that initial mind blowing chemistry it doesn't mean it's going to last forever. Or even a year.    

We've all been there, knee-deep in a relationship only to see the sex fizzling out. We go from feeling desired to feeling like yesterday's dirty laundry pile on the floor of your bedroom. The truth is, a lot of us have been in relationships where the sexual, affectionate, complimentary, ego boosting side of the relationship dies and has to be buried in the backyard next to the remains of Crumpy the hamster. Some people think the death of the hanky-panky is inevitable, that it will dwindle regardless of how you try to avoid it.

I don't want to believe that's true. I want to believe there are people who can live their whole lives together and find one another more attractive each year that passes. I want to believe there are couples who enjoy each other physically no matter how many days, weeks, months or years pass.

One might call this wishful thinking.

Because we all know things change. The compliments stop. Affection gets put on the back burner. Sex lessens, and sometimes stops altogether. Kissing is reserved for hellos and goodbyes and goodnights. Holding hands becomes virtually non-existent. And cuddling? Well, that's just for the honeymoon stage. It's almost as though the better you know someone, the less you actually want to touch them. Or touching them becomes less important for some reason.

Don't get me wrong. I'm sure you love them, but do you lust them? Do you desire them?

It's like that terrible scene in the first episode of Breaking Bad. It's Walter's fiftieth birthday and his dutiful wife is intent to giving the birthday boy a little action. She's going to take care of him because it's his special day. Except, her laptop's open and they're talking about chores that need to be done around the house as she gives him some manual pleasure. In the short scene so much is conveyed. Maybe it depresses me because I understand it. I've done something simply for the sake of doing it before, like it's expected, a quota I needed to fill.

We grow up. We get old. We move in together. Have kids. Buy homes. Work overtime. Stress about money. Get annoyed with each other. Become resentful and bitter. I get it. Life happens. But part of me wonders if it can't be avoided, not life, but the breakdown of desire. What if we simply put our phones and computers away. Turn the television off. Mute the world around us so we can reconnect, and not just mentally or emotionally, but physically as well.

So often, it simply turns to routine. Trying to schedule intimacy into our busy lives. If we're lucky. Sometimes we just let it fall to the wayside and gradually forget what it's like to be wanted. And, essentially, that's what desire comes down to. Feeling wanted. Being wanted. Having someone touch you because they want to, not because they're supposed to.

I guess it's easy to desire someone you don't really know. A picture. A model. An actress. The cute girl who serves you coffee. It's harder to desire someone you see everyday. The girl who always wears sweatpants around the house, who cleans the kitchen floor, or nags you for leaving your crap on the dining room table.  The guy who comes home dirty, picks his toenails, and can't seem to put the toilet seat down.

Or maybe we just forget how attractive they are. The qualities we lusted after in the beginning disappear. We just don't see them anymore. We forget what initially drew us to them. Or maybe we simply grow accustomed to seeing them, to the point where we don't really see them at all. They turn into a piece of furniture. The old worn leather chair you've had for so long. It's comfortable, and even if unsightly, you're just used to it.

Either way, I've never really felt extremely desired. You know, to have someone unable to keep their hands off me. Probably because I've never been 'sexy' (please see this blog to understand). Those who have had lusted over me usually don't really know me. And maybe that's the kicker. Maybe the 'can't keep my hands, lips, eyes off you' thing is specifically for the beginning, or internet affairs. On hold for those who don't really know us and can let their imaginations turn us into something we aren't. A fantasy. The perfect recliner, not the cute ottoman that you really are.

The thing is, if you feel like a piece of furniture - functional, practical, scotch-guarded and safe - then that's probably how others will start to look at you. Perhaps you need to desire yourself before other people will desire you.

And maybe I'm just rambling to fill space.