ugh

My day was, well, aggravating. Only because I've made it so for myself. Because, you know, I love when people tell me I'm fucked up. Which, yes, sometimes I am, but not in this case. And I'm stubborn and beligerent (and I guess they are the same thing?) and when I hear ridiculousness like that it just makes me more determined. And yet, determined to what? I don't want to sink to the lowest common denominator of human behavior. I don't want to be associated with that. I've seen enough of it and want to actually act my age. I don't want to act like I'm in high school. And, well, I certainly wouldn't want to be in the position of having my so-called friends telling people what a fucked-up train wreck I am. Some people get off on that, I guess, but that's their choice, not mine. Of course I have regrets. Of course I was stupid and naive. Of course I hate myself for that part of it because I know I could've walked away sooner, I could've not put so much of my heart into it that I wouldn't care. That's what people keep telling me anyway. That I feel too much, too fast. And maybe I do but how do you know when that's right and when that's wrong? I don't have ESP and I'm sure I'm girl one million to fall for that so it's not that I truly feel bad. Or guilty, as was opined the other night. I never felt guilty, just...slutty. There is a difference. :) But I want it to go away. Or maybe I will leave at some point, who knows. But I will do whatever I will do because it's my choice, not because of cowardice. I really need to get google ad sense on here so all those clicks make me money, that would make me happy if only for the irony.

So anyway, yeah. Aggravation, stupidity, try not to relive the whole thing in my head, rinse, repeat. First some happy things:

Dedicated In The Flesh fan and smutty funny girl Jessica Delfino keeps a sex diary for New York magazine

I'm still gathering content for my website, so these will be up in text form soon, but if you haven't listened, here are two of my erotica stories as read by the divine Violet Blue:

Listen to my story "Animals" from Best Women's Erotica 2007 being read on Best Women’s Erotica editor Violet Blue’s Open Source Sex podcast here

Listen to my story "Spike" from Best Women's Erotica 2006 being read on editor Violet Blue’s Open Source Sex podcast here

It's funny because I just read Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love and was so moved, and I know that I am resisting the lesson at its core. Several times Gilbert, who's been through a lot worse than I have, seeks out answers for making peace with her ex-husband, and with herself. I found her journey truly moving, and then found this that she wrote about writing.

As for discipline – it's important, but sort of over-rated. The more important virtue for a writer, I believe, is self-forgiveness. Because your writing will always disappoint you. Your laziness will always disappoint you. You will make vows: "I'm going to write for an hour every day," and then you won't do it. You will think: "I suck, I'm such a failure. I'm washed-up." Continuing to write after that heartache of disappointment doesn't take only discipline, but also self-forgiveness (which comes from a place of kind and encouraging and motherly love). The other thing to realize is that all writers think they suck. When I was writing "Eat, Pray, Love", I had just as a strong a mantra of THIS SUCKS ringing through my head as anyone does when they write anything. But I had a clarion moment of truth during the process of that book. One day, when I was agonizing over how utterly bad my writing felt, I realized: "That's actually not my problem." The point I realized was this – I never promised the universe that I would write brilliantly; I only promised the universe that I would write. So I put my head down and sweated through it, as per my vows.

I wish I could be all Beliefnet about this, but it's not about forgiveness anymore, though I do find the below statement true. It's about me trying to live my life, to be happy, to be past it all. I am trying, I really am, and my real friends rock my world for bearing with me. But I have to think that forgiveness is a two-way street. I have nothing to forgive really, I don't want that. I just want to move far on. I was doing well and thought this city was big enough for co-existing. And maybe it is, but the internets aren't? Who knows, and really, who cares? I don't want to say never say never, but I will try to make this the last post about this. Next time I write about this, I'll be getting paid. Or I'll just pretend like it never happened. If only.

Forgiveness is about more than finding reasons, or understanding. Often our anger melts away when we truly understand the circumstances of the other, but that is not identical with forgiveness. Although it is important to try to understand the motivations of other people, true forgiveness occurs when conduct has been inexcusable, not when it has been understandable. A misunderstanding that is cleared up is not an occasion for forgiveness, but for further clarity. Forgiveness is a generosity of the heart, not an example of clear thinking.

To forgive someone is to believe them to have been wrong, and to let go of the moral leverage that grants us over another. Forgiveness is renouncing the position of remaining superior. It is a leveling borne of letting go.

The next realization is that we forgive for ourselves. Anyone who has borne a grudge knows its corrosive effect. The grudge perches on the heart like a gargoyle on a parapet, looking out with an ugly countenance and growling at the world. Sometimes anger at one person spills over into our love for another. For as the Jewish tradition warns, anger is like a bubbling pot, and no one can control where and how it overflows.

The human heart carries hurts through life. We are all scarred, and burdened, and broken in different ways. Many of these injuries are unavoidable. We cannot escape the losses that life brings. But we control whether our souls are tied in knots, angry and gnarled. We cannot control the world, but we are each of us the captains of our own souls.