This morning I took a tiny bite of pot cookie, ending my angry dog week. During this week I had great exercise and yoga, recovered sweetly from a big marital blowout, had fun working at the kids’ play and an uplifting satisfying experience at the temple. I also got into a huge snit about the lack of latkes at the Whole Foods on the first night of Chanukah and if the lady in charge had been white and educated seeming I would have gone off on a big ol’ eloquent tirade, subtlety evoking anti Semitism, (Pasadena...) but it was a hugely obese black woman so even though the Jews have never been shown enough appreciation for our role in the Civil Rights movement, I put a sock in it.
I was irritable all week and the little sleep I had was fitful. I came on to the pot and felt a calm awareness of God in the world. I felt despair and anger and hopelessness last week. I reached out and was met with healing love but still felt a kernel of anger. After my morning cookie, this has melted into compassion and anxiety feels supplanted by hope. The pot too is like truth serum and while I do feel lessened anxiety and clearer focus, I am aware too that it is critical to pursue all means necessary, as in God and love and exercise and yoga and music and this writing, towards honesty and light and peace. I know that of all the things I do so that I can exist in peace and joyfully shoulder my responsibilities, pot is the only tool with drawbacks and one to be employed mindfully.
My cabinetry is being finished as I type here and I will begin unpacking our filthy boxes. We still need paint and lots of tweaking but by weekend’s end we will be eating food prepared by me and off of real plates. I was raised by a mean, narcissistic mother, a product of her time, I suppose and I forgive, to be a whore. Both of my parents reinforced again and again that a woman’s sexual desirability was the true her measure of worth. A lot of failure and humiliation have brought me finally to the point of discrediting this. I am worthy because I show love. I am most confident about showing love when I make people laugh, strive for compassion and cook food. I have finally become much more confident about my sexual desirability but it is no longer tied into my self worth and much more about surrendering self and loving strongly and fearlessly jumping off into the void with my beloved. I look so forward to having a house full of kids or a dinner party or just eating with other than a plastic fork and filling this home with love in the ways that I know best.
There is lots of bullshit ahead. Business is tough. I am the mother of a teenager. I am married to a brilliant introvert and our different priorities inevitably make me feel put upon at times. I am confused about my use of marijuana. I love my marriage and my family and my friends and while this home never bodes to ascend out of funkiness, soon at least we will break bread that I have baked and partake of good things. My nearly useable kitchen. Oh fresh hope.