Poetry power + yoga power = ?

When I am pissed off at Grumpy, as I was this past weekend, I shift into ambivalence about the relationship. Ambivalence has always been there. The relationship is a compromise that seems to stabilize both of us, even though our differences are profound. He is more strongly attached than I am, and we both know it.

So, this weekend, floating in my ambivalence pool, I had to do a poetry assignment -- a lyric poem, six lines only, first person, present tense, one time, one place, personal feeling.  Uh-oh. Of course, I wrote the ambivalence into a poem. So now I have discovered something new about how poetry works, or really something I've read about but not experienced directly. The process of writing the poem crystallized, amplified, evoked the full strength of my ambivalence so that I had to look it square in the face instead of damping it down with the rationalizations and excuses that normally moderate it.

On top of that, my Sunday morning yoga class had us doing exercises to release or raise the exotic serpent, the kundalini. I confess to not giving much credence to the yogic personae, but whatever kundalini is, the fact is that I spent the entire day in an altered state of consciousness -- distanced, introspective, floating, contemplative, meditative, energized, and feeling like I had greater clarity of perception. It was perfectly clear to me that I needed to be on my own.

No, we didn't talk about it, but Grumpy was feeling the change in me and feeling anxious.

So, now it's Tuesday and I am comfortably back into compromise mode, but somewhat altered by the experience. I don't want to make any sudden moves, but I do want to remain alert to directing my life to find what I need and want, and separation may be a part of that. I don't know yet. My weakness that stops me is what I know about me and solitude, that I lose confidence and become depressed because I do not make connections with other people very well or very often. Grumpy has the same problem, and we give each other that solace -- we recognize each other's sharp edges and accept them (most of the time), and connect. My struggle is to not be changed toward weakness in accommodating him. I tend to be a cowardly "pleaser."

On another subject, in French class our last assignment was to write a c.v. and a job application letter in French. I've always wanted a Ph.D., so I gave myself one! Feels great.