nebulous anxiety

I am worried that reading about someone with chronic sore-throats and flu has made me feel the same way. Quite possibly swimming in the bay for 20 min when I already had a scratchy throat was not a good idea. But I organized the swim, and two people drove up from the South Bay, so I didn't feel as though I had a choice. And it was glorious, at least swimming out toward the Golden Gate and feeling it get closer was, but then the beach seemed so far away and persisted in remaining so for far too long on the way back in. The water was decidedly crisp, and even with a wetsuit I felt significantly dizzy when I pulled myself out. Hell, I didn't even want to teach my yoga class this morning. I tried to call in sick, but there was no reply.

Now all I want to do is curl up in bed with a book, and it's only 8.30pm. Instead of writing, I've been planning my trip to the East Coast to look at colleges with my son. Somehow I feel that at 16 he should be planning this himself, but since it hasn't happened and we're flying next weekend I just had to step in. At his age, I was planning trips to Israel and all across Europe, without even the benefit of the internet. My ability to cope with travel must have peaked early, it seems to be such hard work now, and I feel anxious about getting maps, getting lost, missing appointments, or spending too much on car rentals and hotels. I should just relax, and consider it a pleasure trip.

I must remember to bring my camera, so that I am not always grabbing other people's pictures from online. Ah well, I can't find one. A picture in words: the dark gray bridge peeping under the dark gray clouds, more real and closeup once you are in the dark gray waves. Dark gray birds bob up and down on the water, in front of dark gray sails. The buildings of San Francisco in many shades of gray rain-stained and unmoving in the distance. I imagine myself splashing dolphin-like through the water in my dark gray wetsuit.

Spring in El Cerrito

Only the children seem to notice the water
bubbling from the brook, through the mulch
put there to stamp out the weeds.

They run across the bikepath
oblivious, their hands full of daffodils.

You walk your dog, head bent
on listening to your I-pod.
How could you hear
the birds in the bushes?

"I could eat those dandelions
but I won't," you say
gesturing on Bluetooth to the flowers
we used to call soursuckles
for which Californians have no name.

Mindful of loneliness

This evening I feel lonely. Why is it that my feelings vacillate so much? This morning I was feeling happy, hoping to reconnect with a friend tonight, and I know that is going to happen one of these days but not this evening and I feel lonely.

Maybe this is why I always make up a 'you' in my head to talk to, because the world of other people is inconstant and flickering. I am reminded of a poem by Sylvia Plath called Mirror, which I had to recite once for a drama exam. It had the lines: "Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall./It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long /I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers./ Faces and darkness separate us over and over." I wish that other people wouldn't flicker so much in my consciousness.

My loneliness could also be related to the fact I am writing about the pain of torture and war. By the way, if you're interested, I am posting chapters from my Clinical Research Project (literature review) here: http://painpersonalitypsychotherapy.blogspot.com/

My lonely feelings are perfectly reflected in Matt Haimovitz's rendition of the cello suites, which take up 3 cds in his version, whereas this morning I was listening to Yoyo Ma, on 2 cds. Perhaps this too plays a role in my changing mood, but there are only so many times I can listen to Yoyo Ma in succession. And the torture of moodishly elongated notes alternating with dancelike exhuberance sits well with writing about the irrational project of war.

I am also fond of this particular poem by Rilke about loneliness, which reminds us that finding a so-called life partner might not be the answer:
http://www.srcf.ucam.org/~pjk42/rilke_files/einsamkeit.html

Thoughts on male and female jealousy

After a conversation I had with someone the other evening, we came up with the following hypothesis. Jealousy is different in males and females, and seems to follow opposite (and hence equally irrational) order considerations. Men seem to be more jealous when their partner (either monogamous, polyamorous, or whatever) is seeing or in love with somebody that they consider inferior, a jerk, 'don't know what she sees in him.' On the other hand, women are more jealous when their partner (or former partner) is with a younger, more attractive, or accomplished woman, whereas they are less sensitive to him seeing a woman they consider inferior. For either sex, their view of the ordering seems the only rational one but clearly neither way is rational.

I wonder what you think of this hypothesis. Please feel free to add examples and counter-examples in your comments. In particular, I would be interested in finding out whether a man would feel more jealous if his former partner were with a jerk. It makes no sense to me that he would, but then the whole male perspective on jealousy makes no sense to me, and seems to hark back to primate ancestors giving in to the alpha male, never mind droit de seigneur. And how does it work for gays, lesbians, and others?

Blueberries

The words I am looking for
explode on the tongue like blueberries
in the middle of a kiss,
showering us both with laughter.
Juicy, just right, not too sweet.

I wish I could envelop you
with the warm haze I feel
my heart touching your heart
like friendly embers kindling
in the afterglow.