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Now what.

In good news, Parker and I are going up to New York for a weekend at the end of July. I'm kinda excited. I feel a bit like a grownup--putting aside money for the trip, talking about bus tickets, even looking up some things to check out while we're there. I do feel like a bit of a dick for leaving most of the planning up to Parker (and Mani), but then it really was his deal from the start.

In other news, I'm becoming reacquainted with some old, familiar anxiety. And some more recently acquired ways of dealing with it.

I summed up how it feels pretty well on twitter earlier:

Not to brag, but I'm not paid enough for all I do at work, I still live in my parents' basement, I still haven't consolidated those loans, still haven't found a second job or really looked, and so many other "still"s. It's frustrating.

And it's beginning to get overwhelming. When I start to think about it, about all of it and their histories and how despite what I've said and done nothing seems to change, how I always seem to come back to this feeling, my breath catches in my chest, my heart takes a double-beat, I feel flush and worried.

It's like the water level is literally overwhelming me; like it's getting harder and harder to keep my head above the water and breathe and keep going like this.

I don't mean to whine. Really. It's just I'm so sick of this herculean inertia, this difficulty against change. I know I need to do something, but I don't know what and I'm not sure how. So I just keep treading.

I need to pray about this, I know. At the very least, talk to people in my network. But praying for some strength, courage, willingness to change would help me "turn it over", even begin to let go.

Because half my anxiety probably stems from an urgent need to control but feeling like everything's out of my control. It's like gripping at air: exhausting yourself against something utterly futile. "Turning over" this compulsive controllingness releases me of it, if only bit by bit, and allows me to look for some concrete steps I can take.

It must sound like such mumbo jumbo. Like some unnecessary mind game to psych me out the compulsive cycle. And maybe it is. But even if it is, it still helps. A lot. This is where my sense of spirituality begins.

I won't bother describing the 'phenomenon' itself in any great depth today, but even saying as little "This is too much for me; help. Take this from me." can bring me some relief from that constrictive anxiety. Sometimes it's immediate--a calming, a readjusting--and sometimes it hits me later in the day when I realize what a good mood I've ended up in and how much I've gotten done afterall; sometimes it's a bit of both.

So, yeah, maybe it's all still nonsense. Maybe it's some mental switcheroo; like 'committing myself to humility' or 'facing the problem', and the subsequent cognitive shift allows me to approach the whole thing just differently enough to overcome it. Sure, maybe.

But it's from that sense of relief, in whatever form it comes and whenever, that gives me a sense of my higher power. I guess I don't need any grand mythos around my God (or "Walt", as I like to call him"); I don't require parables or cosmic ideology or mysterious ways & intentions to help me understand and believe it any better. It just is, I guess. Those little moments where I ask for help and things work out alright in the end, that's when I feel some spiritual something, and I guess can't find any particular need to define it beyond that or convince you how it is for me any further than that.

It's probably a fairly selfish take on spirituality. For me, though, my anxiety can be so arresting of itself that I need to reach out--metaphysically, cognitively, or otherwise--if I'm to get anywhere. And if believing in some higher power I call Walt can help me, I don't mind trying to believe in that.


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