I’m the kind of oddball that when told it’s impossible, looks for a way to achieve it. I’m beginning to realize that most people don’t operate this way. I always assumed that of course outsiders would be looking for options in “impossible” and it’s beginning to dawn on me that, again, this is actually rarely the case.

I thought that especially the oddballs would be carrying ladders in their pockets, so they could climb to the stars. But I find that most of them have stopped looking up a long, long time ago.

I think it’s time to rethink my traveling partners.

I know a white person who has absolutely no problems or qualms about using a bathroom plunger in his kitchen sink. He is clean and sober.

What’s wrong with this picture?

This is what baptism should feel like.

And I was finding nothing! Nothing at all. I couldn’t believe it. A scant two weeks prior, there had been a dearth of apartments, roommate situations, and rooms to let everywhere, and now it was quieter than downtown Sandusky, Ohio after 9pm. Nothing in my price range, nothing in the neighborhoods I was seeking to live in… Nada.

Sigh.

When things get like that: when things seem to be incredibly stuck on the outside, I start searching inside to see what I need to shift in order for things to begin flowing again. And this felt as stuck as could be. So I consulted the runes, hoping I could make sense of the situation. I needed to find out what I was missing: what essential component I could introduce or develop which would allow a stagnant life some air. And me a new place.

The runes said stop gossiping. And I thought, …… What?

First off, I couldn’t — for the life of me — figure out what on earth talking about others had to do with finding a new place to live. And secondly, I didn’t gossip that much. (Nobody ever gossips much and nobody ever sees themselves as gossiping much.) How on earth could something so small have anything to do with a problem so large?

But the runes were insistent, and I decided, to at least take a look at the thing?

I started off with my favorite research tool — Google — and began looking up what I could find out about gossiping. I didn’t find much that seemed to go beyond the usual “Don’t!” when I wanted to know why. Surprisingly, I found some religious treatises on the matter. Not being religious, I found most of these wanting as far as motivation or explanation (I really need more elucidation than “the [insert-the-name-of-your-favorite-holy-text-here] says don’t do it” ), although I did happen upon something which resonated with me. What I read said that what differentiated talking from gossip was motivation and accuracy. And I could see both being issues in gossip. It’s hard to explain exactly how those words struck me, but I feel it’s important to try.

First let me say that while I didn’t see myself as a big gossiper, those words helped me see that many times my *motivation* for speaking about someone not present was not based on a healthy, positive thing. I was talking to destroy and tear down. Granted, I was talking about my landlord, and granted, I was talking about my living situation, but in putting my energy to tear something down, I was depriving myself of energy and personal power.

And I wasn’t being accurate about the situation. Because in the very instant I was working to declaim him, I was declaiming my ability to do something about the situation. Don’t get me wrong, there was a viable solution in working to move out as quickly as possible. But let me put this backwards for a moment so you can see it. If there was an infestation one day and I was moving out the next, would I complain bitterly about the situation? Or would I put my efforts and focus into moving out and be unworried about how the landlord was approaching the issue?

The only thing propelling me to rail about the injustice of it all was the fact that I was still experiencing the problem. And I was still experiencing the problem because I was unwilling to do more to resolve the issue. I didn’t want to call the Health Department or other government authorities. I didn’t want to send the landlord a letter, certified receipt to begin a paper trail. I didn’t want to arrange a sit-down with the landlord and the other tenants. I felt unwilling to escalate the issue. So it was on to complaining bitterly behind his back.

Which was inaccurately putting forth the problem as unsolvable. And me as deserving of the treatment I was receiving. And me as powerless to do anything about it.

So I stopped talking about it. Not overnight. Some habits are hard to break. Especially when the roaches are kamikaze-ing into the food you’re preparing for dinner. But as I stopped talking about it, I noticed a shift.

I began to notice how other people talk when in similar situations. I had always seen and felt it, but this was the first time I was _aware_ of it. (Probably because I was now working on addressing this behavior in myself.) What happens when we vent is that we let off a little steam. But this energy is being applied — not to fix something or remove a hindrance — but to allow us to release some of the internal stress so as to continue to take the same abuse. (And we’re definitely experiencing it as abuse; if we weren’t we wouldn’t be gossiping.) Gossiping doesn’t help; it hinders! And it only hinders the person gossiping.

Actually, it also hinders the listener.

One of the books I read in my search for an explanation of what gossip is and why the runes would say to stop was “Gossip: Ten Pathways to Eliminate It from Your Life and Transform Your Soul” by Lori Palatnik and Bob Burg. While I didn’t quite agree with everything they put forth … I should explain that. One of the things they seemed to be saying in their book was that unless you were saying something positive about a person, you should shut the fuck up. Which I don’t quite agree with. I think that you can say something about a person which isn’t positive and not be gossiping. I think this is where the motivation part kicks in. I think sometimes in order to solve the problem, you may have to begin your inquiry with things that may be deemed as negative. I’m not one who counts a Truth which seems negative as negative.

That said, the authors talked a bit about how damaging it is to listen to gossip. I had always felt uncomfortable when people around me would say something to me about someone they didn’t want repeated. Until now, I hadn’t had a _name_ for my pain. I hadn’t realized how damaging it was to listen to them. Now that I was plugging my own energy leaks, I was more aware of how exhausting the “conversation” was when I listened to others gossip. Allowing them to vent to me was actually damaging me!

I think everyone has had that girlfriend who insists on detailing every single thing wrong with her crazy/abusive/evil boyfriend but also insists on staying with him. I think everyone has done the same dance of initial sympathy, evolved concern, and then eventual frustration and fed-up-ness with said girlfriend’s refusal to act in a way which puts an end to the complaining and your misery for her. If I’m not with the boyfriend, why on earth would I want to live with his actions?

I began to limit what I would listen to, even telling some that I wasn’t doing gossip. (I don’t do this in every situation; requesting this still feels foreign to me. Sociology is winning over biology on this point. But the more I do limit what I hear, the more energy I retain.) I’m reminded of one person in particular who had previously begun our conversations with a long litany of complaints, of people who were taking and wasting her time and attention. I could easily see how the energy she used attending to their needs ahead of her own was translating into her efforts to replenish herself by letting off steam with me. (A few weeks prior, this could easily result in me having multiple conversations with someone else about “how Gloria’s really a good conversationalist, but lately all she does is talk about how people are taking her time but she doesn’t do anything about it and I can’t listen to it anymore”.) The first day was interesting and I suggested some ways to put herself second, at least, if not first. The second day, less so, and I reiterated my suggestions. And finally, I told her no more gossip. And she didn’t have much to talk about after that. I don’t think there was a way for her to convert “I am being taken advantage of” to “I feel used and I am allowing others to take advantage of me.”

Which is another great reason to get rid of gossip. You lose those people for whom personal responsibility does not exist. And you decrease the drama in your life dramatically.

The next step? No more National Enquirer. That step could take awhile.

Oh yes. I wound up finding a new place. Shortly after I stopped gossiping, I just moved into a hotel room for a week, then to a sublet for a month, then I found the *perfect* place. Not in the neighborhood I wanted; better. Not in the price range I wanted, but exactly what I wanted. And the funny thing is? I had seen the ad for this place at least twice during my search but had immediately discounted it because it didn’t fit my criteria at the time.

Of course I do. At one point, Moses - Charlton Heston - lifts up his rod, the waters part and the children of Israel cross over.

‘In the Bible it’s different,’ says my friend. ‘There, God says to Moses: “Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward.” And only afterwards does he tell Moses to lift up his rod, and then the Red Sea parts.

It is only courage on the path itself that makes the path appear.’

from Stories For Parents, Children and Grandchildren by Paulo Coelho

not so. not so at all.

in fact, as soon as i realized where the answer would be taking me, i beat a hasty retreat.

maybe it isn’t a retreat. maybe the journey to the answer is so long and the details so many that i must plan my trip within, take a few steps back to survey the terrain and pick my weapons tools before resuming my quest.

bullshit. it’s called avoidance.

the short answer is that i grew up with parental units who were quite comfortable doing completely illogical and nonsensical things, resisting any and all efforts by yours truly for explanation or examination.

so the short answer is, while i abhor the routine with all its trials and aggravations, it’s a very wonted dance, whose steps are so familiar to me that they take little to no thought whatsoever. i engage the fools i come across, knowing full well the waste of time i’m pursuing by giving them space in my life.

like that recliner in your living room with that pointy-ended spring that always gets you when get comfortable. you haven’t thrown it out yet because … well you don’t have a good reason, really, you just haven’t yet. you imagine that it’s going to take more energy to get rid of it and replace it. it won’t take more energy. in fact, it will be tremendously easy. but because you imagine it will take more energy, you don’t.

what makes me even write this today is that i’m now establishing another friendship, and this new friendship has its own warning signs. the red flags are waving — and i see them — and yet … maybe if i sit a certain way, i can avoid the pointy end of the spring.

madness.

that was really my first clue.

symptoms of a problem abounded… from the haphazard way she attacked a project, resisting all attempts at forethought and planning… from the way they constantly griped about their friends and family, never bringing up their concerns with the parties in question, always demeaning in private…

these were all part & parcel.

the reason i avoid people who drink isn’t the drinking itself — you could down a gallon of scotch while sitting beside me and i wouldn’t care. it’s all the crazy shit that goes with the person who needs to down a gallon of scotch. or the person who needs to hide empty wine bottles from non-understanding family members. it’s the crazy shit that goes with the drinking i want to avoid.

…

i am staring at a polaroid picture (read slower, you’re going to have to envision this to get it) placed inside a faux-gold-rimmed 5″x7″ picture frame. as i stare through the glass at the picture, i know that to mention it is to invite a backlash. something derisive, perhaps even scathing, from the person who placed the picture inside the frame. she’s not going to hear my observation as constructive; she’s not going to hear the inquiry. she’s going to hear a detraction, an insult.

and perhaps that’s fair. because i’m looking at this picture wondering “what the fuck was she thinking?”

and, i guess, that no matter how i say it, how eloquently or diplomatically i word my inquiry, that question will be at the heart of what i’m saying, and she’ll hear “what the fuck was she thinking?” as an insult. and respond from a wounded place.

what i really want to know is … how? how did she get to be 40-some-years-old with two children and think that the way to display polaroids was such? i mean… i believe in swimming against the current most of the time, but … well, what the fuck was she thinking?

and she is a crackhead. but still.

…

what grates me most is the emotional stuckness with alcoholics so much of the time is spent avoiding any depth or exploration of self or world. and that any attempts to do so is met with extreme resistance and hostility.

in short,

nothing is to be worked out

ever.

things are either worthy of praise or condemnation, and even then, either activity must only skim the surface; one is never to delve below the shallow waters.

ever.

so this is the role in my life which is continuously filled. as i open the door to allow some character to exit my life, i open another door for another character to enter.

i turned down a job with a stuck person only to accept a volunteer position with a stuck person.

what the fuck?

it’d be different if this was the first, or even the fifty-first time i’d done this. i can’t even count the number of people i’ve had filling this role.

what essential component in my makeup is missing which would this merry-go-round to cease?

I turned down the job offer. It seemed like an excellent opportunity at first. Then I looked a little deeper and realized the people I would be working with were stuck. Seriously stuck.

My coworker had a storage place full of stuff she wasn’t using. When I went to help her clear things out so she’d be clear for the project we’d be working on … together … she wasn’t interested.

She had 5 watches. All of which she wanted to hang onto. None of which were special.

Don’t get me wrong. Having 5 watches isn’t a bad thing in of itself. Having 5 watches, a storage place you can’t afford full of things you aren’t using … That’s something else altogether. And then to resist doing anything about it… I’m breaking out in hives even writing about it.

Then there’s the person who would have been my boss. Who was really upset with the last people she hired to do this job for her, but didn’t want to tell them. That in of itself is not a big deal. But.

She had hired someone else — we’ll call her Jai — to clean for the last gig. And the customers had complained about the cleanliness. So Jai must not have cleaned? Except that’s not what I heard or saw. To me, that means there’s an issue here that’s not being addressed, and, if I’m going to put on a bang-up event, I should probably dig a little deeper and see what the problem is. Do we need better cleaning supplies? Did she half-do it? Does she need more help? Only the boss doesn’t want to talk to Jai and she doesn’t want me to talk to Jai. The boss is adamant about that.

This doesn’t sound like an opportunity to me. It sounds like a certain form of death wrapped up in sparkly ribbons.

I declined the offer. And just as I was patting myself on the back for avoiding a complete blanking headache, I step out of the frying pan into the fire.

So me and another woman are putting on the next retreat. Wanna come?

Now, imagine a Borg-controlled world. One question, one answer. Each and every time.

Ah…. Bliss.

On the plus side, I modified a recipe and now have the raw food version of hamburger. I haven’t dehydrated it yet (it’s so good that it never makes it to the dehydrator), but I’m working on it. I’m eager to see what they taste like dehydrated, on a onion sesame bun with all the fixin’s. In the meantime, here’s the recipe:

Hamburger

• 3 cups walnuts, ground
• 1 tbsp cumin
• 2 tbsp coriander
• 1/4 cup onion, chunked
• 2 tbsp agave
• 1 tbsp chili powder
• 1 tsp salt

1. Place all ingredients in the food processor and process to desired consistency.
2. Shape into patties and place on covered dehydrator tray.
3. Dehydrate for … I’ll have to get back to you on that.