Multiplication Factors

I'm currently sitting at Joshua's Cafe in Woodstock, NY.  With free wifi! Ha! ;-)

Daughter and I spent two nights backpacking south of here along the AT. It was a short trek from south of Perkins Tower on Bear Mountain, north to the Graymoor Monastery ball field, and then back to Bear Mountain Zoo. Funny how the AT goes right through a zoo. I enjoyed camping in the ball field, the bells tolling from the monastery, reminding me of the hours, of time. More later perhaps, about the trek. I did compose one poem, or some would say "prose." Hopefully I'll get it posted on my poetry blog today.

I thought much along the trek about what am I to do with my life now. What direction do I take? The recent fall out with my previous counselor has prompted me to re-examine my focus. My focus comes back to the story.

The story. The story. The story.
Stories within the story.
My story. Your story.
His story. Her story.
Stories in which I'm guilty.
Stories in which I'm innocent.
Paths winding in and out.
Life crossings.

Happenstance hinges which swing doors and windows, opening new corridors and landscapes.

That is my driving passion still. To continue to write my story, to discover and rediscover that story. To embrace it and hopefully by doing that, another can embrace their story. By owning our stories, do we not get to  know ourselves more intimately? By that, perhaps we can love ourselves more? Perhaps we can more easily allow the same for others? Perhaps mutual respect rises? Perhaps more acceptance of another's truth?

As I was working on an activist project in the past fourish months, I had gotten somewhat away from my story. That was my choice as I had only so much time and energy in a day. Now that that project has been aborted; I will get back to my story. At least that is my inkling at the moment.

I've pondered whether or not to remove a recent "anger" rant from toss & ripple. I waffle back and forth. Why would I leave up a rant? As I consider the why and whether or not to let it be, I lean toward letting it stay. It sits as a witness (so to speak) to that small snippet of the story. A small snippet that may seem insignificant to others. But it is not to me. It was how I felt at the time of writing. Those feelings will dissolve and will be integrated into my life. Adding more to the story within the story, which changes as I change. [Added note a few days later: after a few more nights in the Catskills, my leaning changed and I've put the anger rant blog entry in draft.]

I know myself well enough to know that it will take me time to move through the scenario(s) of the recent conflict. Aborted relationships involving folks who I am close with take me time to process. It's not unusual for the process to last a couple years. I was counting the relationships that have affected me deeply like that. Relationships that have ended without specific closure. There have been six. Three, I chose to end. Three, the other parties ended. Two were with females. Four were with males. With all except one, it took me one to two years to move through the residual emotions. The "except one" took much longer. How long, I'm not sure.

If ever another dual (or more) relationship presents itself with a mental or healthcare provider who I am seeing professionally...well, I just don't know if I'll approach that. The two times I've had various dual relationships with those type providers, both times ended in disasters with the other party abruptly ending the relationship. Three common factors were me, the other party had provided professional service that involved intimate knowledge, and the various dual relations with the two different providers. There are probably other common factors.

Common factors abound in multiplication problems.  Relationships abound in complexities that sometimes seem to multiply all by themselves. But they don't multiply all by themselves. There are always identifiable factors.