Still Here

Grand Crossing seems to be living up to its name as I find myself standing still at this fork in my blogging road. I'm reminded of Yogi Beara who is reported to have said, "When you come to a fork in the road, take it!" Ah, a man after my own heart. So, that's what I've been doing. Taking the fork in the road. (and standing very, very still.)

Inbetween trying to determine where to keep writing (because I have determined that I want to keep writing) I've been away over the weekend and back again. It feel as if all things remain the same, but some things are finding their natural end. Finx is in the final stages of repairing what was lost at the beginning of the year, and some health issues I've had appear to be in the process of resolving. I've gotten permission to take three weeks off in the summer to go a-travelin', thereby ending my angst about receiving approval for this, and now beginning my plans for what to do and where to go. Although I know roughly where I'm going. So, endings beget beginnings and there are always new horizons, new questions, new lessons, new crossroads (to beat you about the head and face with my own metaphor as I am so wont to do).

So, for today I'm writing here where it feels like home. Because it is. And if I do leave for a new blog residence, I know I'll take the spirit of this one with me, because part of me will always be moving inbetween two points. You could say I was born into it.

passing by a faithful tree, march 2007

Confirmed

My suspicion was confirmed. I feel really angry and violated as this person was a former student of mine who always pushed to have more of a relationship with me than I was able or willing to have. Really intrusive behaviors and boundary issues all around and this absolutely takes the cake. When I gave this person initial opportunities to reveal themselves on this site, they side-stepped and continued to engage with me deceptively.

I'm not sure what I'll do now.

On Second Thought

I have reason to believe that someone I knew in a different period of my life and am in very little contact with has discovered my blog and has been commenting under an alias - never revealing to me that they know me. If this is the case, and if you are reading and you do know me I am asking you to stop reading this blog. Something about this feels entirely inappropriate and out of line. It's one thing if you don't know me, but it's another for you to know me and pretend that you don't and create a second false relationship in this forum. It's not about what I do or do not write on this blog, it's about having information about me when I know you in real life and not doing me the courtesy of letting me know that you have it.

So if I'm right here, STOP IT.

Starting Anew

I'm considering starting a new blog at a different location. I've come to enjoy blogging and find it to be instructive in many ways, but I've begun to feel really guarded and a bit uneasy in what I write and post here and feel I might need to start some place fresh. Has anyone else ever felt this way or taken this step? If anyone would like to continue to read please email me at grandcrossing at gmail dot com. I will let you know what what the new deal is when I'm sure.

Over and out.

So Close, So Far Away

I am nearing the point of licensure in my field. I have this one nagging segment of hours I've left for the end because they scared me the most. Kids. And Families. And Couples. (Oh, my.) I've worked with a wide range of clients, who are all part of these systems and some of them even HAD kids, however I've not worked with them all together in one room. Well, except for a few couples.

It's in my best interest to be licensed; more money, more esteem and more options. However, I remain at this edge of 400 hours (of a 3000 hour requirement). I can't seem to find the arena in which to complete this part of my experience. This is a familiar place for me - frozen near the end of something. My quiet reserve of strength and energy which has pulled me through, suddenly faltering and yawning and telling me it might be time to take a break from eachother for awhile. I recognize this stage of things. I know I'll turn a corner and find the place I need to grow in this last area and that all the strength and energy required will be available to me. But for now, I'm tired and I'm a bit lost and I want to go home.

Go for a Walk with Me

Overheard conversations are like found objects, and I realize that I don't have the opportunity to "overhear" many conversations that don't take place within the walls of an outpatient program. Sometimes what I do hear is beautiful, funny, insightful or crazy, however they aren't really statements I can disclose here, or many other places. And they are from people I see everyday and with whom I have a relationship of some sort.

I miss hearing what others have to say when I'm not involved in the conversation. Public transportation is a rich feast for this kind of thing, and currently I don't find myself on it very often. I am more often than not by myself in my own car trying to talk to myself in Spanish, or I'm walking, but not one else is.

So, somehow this post is becoming about public transportation because now I no longer remember cursing the bus on Michigan Avenue through gritted teeth on blizzard-jammed nights and I instead remember the crush and rush of people as exciting and bursting with possiblity. The possibilty of connection, possibility of discomfort, possibility of inanity or genius.

And in some sort of nostalgic montage some images come back to me: The mentally ill woman making vulgar gestures at me through the glass as the el pulled away from the platform after she had threatened to give everyone on the car HIV. (Aww) The cute guy who looked like Dave Matthews and who always sat across from me in the mornings and who I always wanted to talk to but of course never did. The fresh-out-of-college girl standing in a jammed car on the brown line in Chicago exclaiming in irritation, "Jack? Jack? Who the fuck is Jack?" while discussing the JFK miniseries she'd seen the night before. The stranger who handed me a very small and folded note on his way off the train which when I opened was a poem which began something like, "Your beauty reminds me of another time..." although less cheesy than that and which went on to describe how I sat with my arms folded. His phone number was at the bottom.

And at the end of this I now see that it's not just about overheard conversations, or about public transportation (Thank God). As usual, it's about connection and potential and confusion and learning and laughing sometimes and perspective and, most importantly, the knowing that each day isn't going to be just like the one directly preceding it.

Creating magic wherever I am.

This is part of the longing. This is the object I want to find.

Hiking Gigi Style

After crawling up a fairly steep and unrelenting incline you stop and admire, talk to and lean against pretty trees:


Followed by further incline madness until a well-placed bench calls out to you:


Ah.

What I Didn't Say

I work to save cats. Among other things, I promote the spaying and neutering of dogs and cats. I do this because 15 million animals are estimated to be killed in US shelters annually. I shared this with someone today and they followed up by asking me how many homeless people there were in the US. I reported with the last statistic I had heard which was 3.7 million.

15 million. 3.7 million. I have no idea how to even begin to envision those numbers. The person asking then asked me how many homeless people I helped. Thinking of my clients, I said, "One. Maybe two." The implication was that I should be helping people before animals. I'd like to think I do both, but more than that what I didn't say and wanted to say, but got distracted by my coffee or by the person who crossed in front of me or by the flow of time, was that it doesn't matter what the help you provide is so long as you provide something.

You can save cats. You can save people. Save yourself. Whatever save even means. You can go to the Inconvenient Truth website and determine your "carbon footprint"and diminish the number of air miles you travel. You can close your eyes and send loving thoughts out into the world. It. Doesn't. Matter. What matters is that you do something. This isn't a new idea, but it came up for me today as I realized that I'm less interested in prioritizing the value of different species lives on the planet, and more interested in creating a better experience in some way, whether that means avoiding a senseless death or diminishing suffering in some small way, for those I share the planet with.

That's what I wanted to say today but didn't.

Turns Out I Like to Laugh

Sheer. Funniness. The IT Crowd makes me laugh. Uncontrollably and for days afterwards. If you haven't seen it you should remedy this immediately. Some highlights below.