Beach reading

I just got back from the beach. I took a couple of days off to re-coup and read and write. I went to the beach with a friend where I did very little reading and even less writing. I did spend lots of time by the pool and jumping waves in the ocean (including hand stand attempts which resulted in a little microdermabrasion on one side of my face).

One of the things I realized while there is: Women hate themselves. The little reading I did included He’s Just Not That Into You, a modern classic, which my friend had borrowed and given back. I hadn’t read it in years and was stunned, again, by what women will accept.  Where’s the self love? Where’s the confidence so a woman doesn’t have to just grasp to a faint scent of commitment wafting near a man, not even on him.

It made me so sad. But what have I learned since I first read it? Probably nothing really new. It’s not about learning I don’t think. It’s about feeling. How you feel about yourself and the life you live. If I have a life I really love, then I won’t be trying to catch some man who makes me doubt myself by not getting caught.

Loneliness is the alternative though until Mr. Right comes along. Is loneliness such a bad thing? If a woman really loves her life, is she lonely just because she doesn’t have a man?  Is the the fear of being alone really as scary as some of the relationships you’ve had?

I vented

o.k .I know yesterday I said venting is for the weak. But today I vented. I tried to stop myself but I did. I went to a friends office to vent. But I stopped myself. I said I’m not going to vent. But then I went to another friends office and before I knew it I was venting! It’s irresistible.

Tonight my yoga teacher talked about the yamas and niyamas which he does periodically.
The one that got me tonight was Satya, truthfulness. I’m not at all truthful. I’m not a pathological lier. I think. But the words that come out of my mouth are so different from the words I’m thinking. Where’s the honesty?

Venting is for the weak

How many times have I listen to friends vent? How many times have I said to a friend at work “Do you have a second? I just have to vent.”  Then I go on to give a long, detailed account of one of the total outrages, little tortures, and various goings on of life in the cubes. (Don’t even get me started on venting about men. It’s just too much.)

Why do these little (purely perceived?) slights get to me so? I don’t know, but I know it’s a waste of my energy. Venting is the response of the powerless. You vent to “get it out of your system”, but it’s not really out of your system. You hold onto it as bitterness and frustration and despair.

I don’t want to vent anymore. I say stop venting and act. Confront. Dare. I never believe I’m powerful enough to do a damn thing about anything that happens to me. I just say ‘yes’ to whatever happens. And then vent. The people I find fascinating are the people who don’t vent. Something happens and you know they must be pissed off, but they don’t go to anyone and say “and she said… and I was like… I couldn’t believe… blah blah blah.”  People who don’t vent put their energy into taking action. They know they can change things.

Those people intimidate the hell out of me.

They just honestly say what they think. What a concept!! I’m breathless just thinking about it. And people respect them for it! They put their energy into action, not venting. Venting means you’re stuck and you’re not really going to do anything about what pissed you off, and you’re not going to communicate the feelings to the person you really need to. It’s the path of least resistance.

But, If I really said everything I thought, I’d get fired. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I’ve got to start being honest at some point, if I’m going to help myself. Right?