Another corner

November 2, 2011.  Last night I went to see my old therapist, Mike Eigen, and to tell him what has been going on in my life  It's kind of like a check-up, a tune-up - a quick "this is where I am and what's happening" and it feels so good to see him.

Life feels so much better than it did two years ago.  I have to get a biopsy on my breast soon which I am not looking forward to. Work remains an exercise in problem solving.  I haven't met the love of my life.  I'm still lonely some days.  Lucy, my beloved beagle, is sixteen and a half, and though she runs down our hallway like a greyhound, she is constantly getting urinary tract infections. 

I worry about our country, the next election, the world, the mess it's all in.  I feel uplifted by Occupy Wall Street and the change in conversation we seem to be having. 

I am grateful.  I like the people I work with.  I like that I have time each morning to write.  I am hopeful that my play will have a life, but if it doesn't, that's okay too.  I'm grateful that I got to see my daughter last month in beautiful San Francisco and spend some time with her and her friends.  I'm grateful that I am going to Miami next weekend with my Mama Gena friends.  I walked through Central Park late yesterday afternoon and the leaves haven't barely begun to change.  

Just when I feel like I've turned a corner, another one presents itself. I like the metaphor of riding the waves.  Sometimes they are perfect and challenging, thrilling to ride. And sometimes I wipe out.  Right now, it feels like the waves are fine.  It's a beautiful autumn day and I am just so grateful for so many good things in my life and for the opportunity to be of service.   

Missing

I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning, which hasn't happened to me in a long time.  Today's a great day, too, I'm going to Unity and then we're going to march in the Gay Pride Parade, which couldn't have been planned for a better day.  Aside from the passage of marriage rights in New York State, it's also a beautiful day.  And Carlos Anderson will be speaking at Unity, which always makes me happy.  He speaks extemporaneously and it's thrilling to see him.  

As I was walking Lucy on this glorious morning, I started thinking about all the people I miss.  I thought about Zoe last night and how we always had so many great adventures together.  It's hard to even express how much I miss my daughter.  I miss old friends. In some cases they left me, in other cases, I left them.  The ones I left are really the ones I miss. It was absolutely the right thing to do, but it doesn't mean I don't miss them.  I miss Lola and I always will.  I think about her every day and I feel grateful for those wonderful nine years we had together.  I miss Mike Eigen, my old therapist, who I see on occasion, but no longer regularly.  And I miss our marriage and family therapist, Mildred Moskowitz, who we also saw regularly.  I've spoken to her on the phone a few times and I went to see her last summer.  She is a lovely person and quite a role model, well into her 80's and still working.en

I miss my mother and my father.  This summer is the second anniversary of my mother's death and my dad's been gone for 21 years.  I miss my family, my sister and her son's family, my cousins.  I haven't seen them in a long time.  

I miss having a partner.  I miss the man I married, not the one I'm divorcing.  

But most of all, I am grateful for being able to feel this sadness and to be in touch with the feelings.  For so many years I was shut down and out of touch. 


I read an article about Harrison Ford the other day and when asked what he felt was the most important things in life he said, "People. Work. And...learning."  I like that. 

Wall Street bonuses are an outrage, Michael Brewer

Is anybody else enraged that the government bailout has now netted Wall Street executives even larger bonuses and that someone in our government (like the President) needs to say, "Hello?  Pay us back, you're not getting these bonuses!"

I am furious and I don't understand why this entire country isn't rising up and saying "Enough."  Or: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore."  


Are we so worried about our own problems that we can't collectively think of ways to rise up and express our disgust and our outrage?  Are we in a coma?  I'm ready to go to Washington, or march on Wall Street, or help organize marches all over the entire country.  I'm going to write letters to our senators and to the White House.  I have no ending to this other than we need to wake the fuck up.  


I was just reading another blogger's post just now about the Michael Brewer story.  I didn't know about it, I guess I haven't been keeping up with the news lately.  But it's a horrible story about a fifteen year-old boy in Florida who got in trouble with a group of boys and was doused in rubbing alcohol and set on fire. He has burns over 80% of his body and when the leader of the group was arrested and questions, he laughed about the attack.


Whatever happened to GUILT?  That was one of the subjects of a talk I went to last night by Mike Eigen at the National Psychological Association of Psychoanalysis (NPAP) and it's a very important question.  His book, "Flames of the Unconscious" talks about this and it relates to both of these stories.