Sin palabras

The problem I'm having these days is that - I'm rather happy.  Good mood.  Angst has more words in it.  Now I'm all like, I have extra joy today, would you care for some?  Maybe that's just this week, but I dunno, feels like a possible cosmic shift.

I've been in therapy a long time, y'all know that, right?  I started going after my dad died and kept at it because it seemed like the first actually effective method I had ever found for genuinely generating change and self awareness, which are like, my favorite things.  Anyway, I was having a little bit of an obsessive brood this weekend about some topic whose grooves are well worn in my head - I'm not trying to be deliberately oblique or anything, or maybe I am.  The topic is to do with not believing what other people say or do when it comes into fundamental conflict with my own self doubt, but the details I must leave partially behind the curtain. 

Anyway.

I was feeling self-effacing and under-confident in a friendship and wrote an email - one of those ones where you want to ask a question but think maybe you are too much or too pushy or are overstepping the bounds and so you couch it in indirect terms in a way that really, if you saw a friend doing the same thing, would make you yell at them? I did that and I got back this completely normal email where the friend, like answered the question, no fuss.  It was an incomplete answer, because there did not yet exist a final one, but it was an answer from a person clearly UNoffended by the question.

And for some reason I actually noticed this, it caught my attention and having been noticed drew my attention backwards, connect the dots style, to the fact that my assumption that I was imposing in some way was - um.  Not consistent with the facts, let us say.  And in fact, maybe it was a bit contrary to the facts.  And always had been, historically.   And that maybe the delusion I was experiencing was getting in the way of a few things.  And had always done so. Um. Yeah. 

And though these moldy old ideas have a way of coming back in cycles, this feels like one of those emotionally chiropractic moments, the therapeutic Doh, from which life proceeds quantum-ly altered.   I love therapy. 

Also, I have turned the heel on sock two.  But I'm not knitting much.  It is 12 million degrees and also, I am moving all my shit around.  I tend to embark rather suddenly on long contemplated projects.   They cook in my head - I have a notebook with color samples and room measurements and pictures of furniture, it lives in the car.  And one day I wake up, look at my living room wall and think, I'm going to paint you orange, where's that paint chip and my car keys.
Why a blazingly hot June seemed like the moment...well, actually I know why.  Company next month.  Always a good time to motivate one's self. 

Other News:

For the first time in about 4 months the number of unread knitting posts in Newsgator is under a hundred.  That's both cool and alarming - there's been something comforting about knowing I always have something to read (because the 150 unread books in my house are Not Enough) but now that they begin to run out, I am facing the unhappy thought of actually getting some work done.  Botheration.

Did you know there are perfume blogs?  Just as devoted and obsessed as fiber dorks.  Read this and see.  Yes, I'm still on that kick, but have branched out into niche perfume houses and industry classics and a little of this and that of all kinds.  The Perfumed Court has taken many of my dollars in exchange for dozens of wee vials of mysterious potions.  I have learned that - and this will stagger you, I know - that I like odd things.  Bring the smoke, bring the funk, bring the weirdly floral, the cooking smells, the middle eastern spice market and the salt of living things.    Keep your Joy and Chanel 5 WAY over there - they smell like boarding school to me, like privileged lives, like beloved aunts drinking coffee after dinner.  In demitasse cups.  Brought in by the maid.  Beautiful, comforting, yet cloistered in a kind of limiting way.
Today I smell like a field of hay in the summer (never mind that if I recall, hay isn't baled until the fall, this is alchemy) with a barn on the far side of it,  a barn with an unusual selection of animals in it.   Dzing!   Delicious.   

And I have had some paint sampling woes.  My basement - which walks out, townhouse - was a boring white room and I had been hesitating over the blue/green I THOUGHT I was going to paint it for two years and then I saw a wall at Mamacate's I liked, light but rich.  This is a light poor space, so light but rich was ideal.  She wrote down the color and then the store I went to didn't carry it. 

But I wanted to ACT NOW, so I picked out a sample I thought was a close match.  Dude mixed it, I went home and I get about half way through the sample and go -- no, this is way too yellow. What was I thinking?
So I drive to another store and buy a sample of the actual color and begin to paint over the mustard.  But it is too light - what looks rich in a sunny room looks barely non-white in my basement.
And I FINALLY think to get out the color card for paint 1 - turns out the mixing dude made a fairly large mistake reading the formula.*  Color THREE on the left, is the one I chose in the first place.  Top cream yellow with a teeny bit of violet in it, it looks rich but bright in low light and dirty-sunny illuminated.  Perfect for my basement cave.

Yellow is a way tricky color, yo. 

I am presently obsessed with apples and peanut butter, which also makes me think of boarding school, but in a better way than Joy.  Though these days the peanut butter is natural and supplemented with flax seeds.  Which are odd, but strangely good as an addition.

*(He was having a DAY, which he told me about at the time.  So not a huge surprise.  I find I'm very interested in people's stories these days - what does what she's wearing say about how she sees herself for example, or his distraction, what does it mean.  And you know, if you look people in the eye and say hello like you mean it, offer a bit of your own story - they'll tell you the world.)

Comments

[Amy]

Far, far too late, but I must say that as I was driving through Mennonite country (or Amish country...hard to tell) I was absolutely delighted by the smells the other day. At one point the pure whiff of manure caught be off guard, but in that setting it was magic. It was like meeting someone you click with at a party that you expect to hate everyone at. It was refreshing. If it's not on your list of 100, or if you haven't already, you should sample the book "Jitterbug Perfume" by Tom Robbins.

[anne]

june is also a month for haying . . we always did haying in june and august . . . just after school got out for the summer, and just before we went back in the fall. mmmm, hot sun and fresh hay . . .

[kathleen]

I live 1 1/2 hours west of Pittsburgh in Amish Country/Ohio. Here they "make hay" roughly Memorial Day, The Fourth, and Labour Day. I am not born country and something that fascinates me is that come winter when you break open those bales you can tell which cutting it was from by the scent. Yum to all of them. This year I am using bales piled into a pit sort of arrangement for my compost pit. Very nice. From The Garden Primer if you need a new book for your shelves. Your blog is lovely.

[elizabeth]

You are so right. My husband can't get over how much I learn about people (complete strangers!) but one universal truth is: People love to talk about themselves and given the opportunity, you'd be amazed at the things they'll say.

And yes, Naturally More pb and green apples are my fave snack. Although I'm thinking of branching out to almond butter.

[Amanda]

Perfume obsession is SO my next phase. After reading a past entry of yours talking about it, I visited the Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs link I had bookmarked ages ago and took the plunge to order some samples. Apparently, I also love things a bit strange: my favorite scent of the batch? R'yleh: "hellishly dark aquatic scent, evocative of fathomless oceanic deeps, the mysteries of madness buried under crushing black waters, and the brooding eternal evil that lies beneath the waves." I don't know what that means scent-wise, but me likey! Thanks for the memory jog!

[Linda Corlett]

You are right. Hay is, indeed, baled in June. I know this because as a child/teen I had to help haul those bales around.
Glad things are going well for you. Have fun painting.

[Sarah]

Omphaloskepsis is one of my favorite words.

Therapy is awesome when it comes to self-awareness.

That's all I've got. Enjoy the rest of June!

[Lizbon]

The funny thing is, I just returned home from a tie-dyeing party (my pals are a creative bunch) during which we were remarking on the trickyness of yellow. I can only wear one specific, very golden shade of it, and we were trying for that, but no, we ended up with sunny-kitchen-yellow. Daffodil yellow. Which none of us can wear.

So we're going to dye over it all with fuschia.

[Diane]

Extra joy is a wonderful thing!

By the way, first cutting (of hay) has been getting cut/baled around here for a few weeks. The farmers are having a tricky time of it as it keeps raining every few days. And I just love the smell of hay...it brings back such good memories of horses and other fun stuff!

[Manise]

I don't know dude, but I'm seeing a lot of palabras here! Glad for your new found joy and happy place. :-)

[Marcy]

Sudden happiness. Isn't it weird? And isn't it grand? I've been there recently, where therapy yielded one of those massive quantum shifts. I've had many small ones through the years, but this was the first big one. For a while I felt like I was in a different brain or universe or something. Felt rather not me. Thanks for sharing a bit of your tale.

[rams]

Here in Michigan July's the traditional haying time, so your instincts are spot on.

[Laurie]

Ah yes. The world. You would not believe what people will tell. And you were clearly not sin palabras.

[melanie]

Have I told you lately how much I adore you? I adore your little looks inward...therapy has served you better, I think, than anyone I have ever known. When are you coming to visit?

[Leah]

I am so glad you are feeling happy. I so recognize that weird ungrounded feeling when the dots connect. It has been a very good thing for me, but it sure feels weird going through the process. Thanks for sharing.
Happy painting, Happy second sock knitting. ; )

[Rachel H]

M'kay, while I'm not entirely certain I understand anything between 'the problem' and 'also, I have turned the heel', the happy is good. Very good.

[k]

Talk about the yellow. Talk about the joy. That's an order.
Speaking of yellow, that's the background color of your blog, and the color of that Lamb's Pride that I'm looking for an excuse to buy. Huge amounts of difference.

[Marin]

Ah, I've missed you. But... you know, joy, the spreading thereof... all worth the wait.

Turning heels is like turning a corner in your life: Magic.

[Jocelyn]

Isn't it mind-bending to suddenly realize, on a gut rather than intellectual level, that the stories that we tell ourselves about what other people are thinking/feeling just ain't so? A friend and I used to talk about the narcissism of low self-esteem, where one assumes that other people's actions/feeling/etc are related in some way to oneself, and are therefore one's fault/responsibility/etc. My new lifetime mantra is "It's not about me." :) Keep spreading the joy! (And maybe some sock pics?)

[Lynn]

Yep, I'll take that extra joy, thank you. Just package it up and send it (north, I think?). I'm tired of the grumps, so it's encouraging to know that oither people have hauled their asses out of same.

Does this mean I have to take up sock-knitting, though?

[Cassie]

I'm afraid I like the too yellow color. Not that you asked or anything.

And hearing you describe that brain-changing thing without actually referencing what had actually been said or what the story was about was ... kinda mind-bending. You know?

[Evalyn]

Dear Juno:
Here in the Pacific NorthWest we are harvesting hay now, late May to late July, baling and filling barns with the lovely stuff so that Dec through March we can pop open a bale and have that heavenly, hot summer smell of fresh mowed hay. Sweet, sweet, sweet, and sometimes with a hint of mint.

[Imbrium]

Why-oh-why do you send me to a site where I can finally find a perfume that smells like burning leaves right after Husband loses his job and we really don't have the extra money? Oh, the humanity!

[Marji]

Been the therapy route myself more than once. Was dragged kicking and screaming into "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" a couple of weeks ago because it was required reading for a class. Much to my surprise, it has good stuff in it.

Don't let other people determine you, luv. You're the creator.

[Heather Ordover]

O it makes me happy to see you happy and more still, to know that what I'm about to do to my walls...you're already doing. Synergy...Stratergery...Synchronicity...or something...I've not slept in three nights...but now songs from the Police are stuck in my head.
Shoot!
O well...it's a better day today. Go Dance: http://mamaoknits.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-this-should-make-me-weep.html