My phone likes to inform me about what’s happening on Twitter, even though I don’t pay much attention to Tweetville. On one particular day, there was a disturbing video of some sort of animal trying to climb out of a buffet. A song by Amanda Palmer immediately came to mind, “Trout Heart Replica.” I found the lyrics relevant to my current state.
“And killing things is not so hard it's hurting that's the hardest part
And when the wizard gets to me I'm asking for a smaller heart”
After having new x-rays taken at the chiropractor, both my primary doctor and I received a letter saying that my heart appears to be enlarged compared to previous x-rays. I have to have a new lung and heart specific xray taken soon. The pressure of blood pumping through my heart has also been alarmingly high. Too much stress, too much anxiety, and doing too many things. So, I cut back drastically.
My heart apparently needs to be smaller.
How people communicate today is all over the place, and it varies from generation to generation. Personally, I find communicating in text to be the best way. It takes time to get the proper words from my brain out of my mouth. I can be well spoken, but the more I learn about neurodivergence, the more I embrace communicating in the ways that are best for me. I am perfectly comfortable writing my thoughts, and then receiving a voice message in return. I want people around me to express themselves in the manner that also works best for them. Recently I was asked not to communicate via email, but to call people up to talk on the phone. Now, I have called many people and had conversations. It’s still not my favorite. I honestly don’t know anyone under 50 who talks on the phone, unless it is for their job, or calling older family members. I have no problem doing this, but I do object to the way I communicate best being taken away from me, or me being expected to do twice or three times the work to make a phone call. That is not reasonable or fair. The expectation is that I do what I need to do by writing, then I call the person up, and voice it. And then what? I need time to process what they say. I need a smaller heart and a bigger brain.
I find so much wisdom in “The Wizard of Oz.” Some courage, a heart, a brain, the ability to go home again… If you are into things like astrology, I am a Leo. An August baby. I can rawr with the best of them. It was serendipity that I had the great honor to play The Cowardly Lion in our middle school production of “The Wizard of Oz” when I was 12 years old. In fact, my church confirmation mentor gave me a Cowardly Lion pull-toy ornament to celebrate my performance, and I still have it. She and her husband came to see the performance, which meant a lot to me.
She emailed me last week to say it has been 33 years since I was officially confirmed in our church. I immediately thought of 33 being the age of Jesus when he was crucified. A powerful reminder that time is fleeting.
I always had separate groups of people in my life - church people, gaming people, the lgbtq+ folks, work people, musician friends, etc. Somewhere a couple of years before the pandemic, the groups started blending together, and I kind of freaked out a little bit. A church deacon befriended me on FB and shared delicious recipes for desserts and yarn. (I call them yarn recipes for some reason.) She would share amazing holiday songs that I had never heard. About a year into the pandemic, she passed away. Her service was the first and only one we had during that second pandemic summer. We even could eat cookies! It was such a treat. The church was packed with people who knew and loved her. I really miss her a lot.
Learning how to be my whole self with all of these different groups is exhausting work. It takes a lot of courage and wisdom to integrate and be authentic. As a transmasculine person, I have experienced a lot of growing pains as some friends fall away, and others come into my life. There is a lifecycle for everything, including friendship. I thank the universe for the gifts I’ve received and the lessons learned. Sometimes it is time to move on.
“And killing things is not so hard it's hurting that's the hardest part
And when the wizard gets to me I'm asking for a smaller heart”
My heart is hurting for so many reasons.
I am an empathetic person. Ever since I was in high school, I developed a meditative practice of putting myself into someone else’s shoes, and pretend to walk around as them to see how my view changed. I don’t mean actually wearing someone’s clothes. It is a meditative activity. I close my eyes and in my mind, I replay a scene and imagine how the person might feel, what movements they make, and what they might see or hear. It has been a very meaningful and life-changing practice.
People around me have been sharing thoughts about being more empathetic and kind to others. I have no idea who the intended recipients are, but I did spend some time thinking about if I needed to rethink my own interactions. I am introverted and don’t talk about my emotions or thoughts much, and when I do, it’s deep stuff, not shallow surface level niceties. I did decide that other people’s requests of me aren’t honoring how I want to interact with them. I am inherently too trusting from the start, so if I reach a distrusting stage, something must have gone really wrong. Trust and distrust are both earned.
Another activity I spent YEARS working on was looking at my face in my mirror, making eye contact with myself and saying “I love you!” The first time, I felt shame and loathing. I didn’t like myself, let alone love myself. A lot of work went into being able to look in my mirror and say confidently, authentically, lovingly, and compassionately, “I love you!” When I say it, I mean it now. When I tell someone I love them, I understand the worth that love gives to people. It says “I am seen and I see you.” Love is medicine.
“And killing things is not so hard it's hurting that's the hardest part
And when the wizard gets to me I'm asking for a smaller heart”
My big heart can’t caretake for other people, can’t do the internal work for others. I so want to though, to give people any of my hard earned wisdom to bypass the pain. I want to watch over people I love and protect them from any and all hurt. I want to be God - and I cannot be God. I can only be me, a wolfish rainbow-clad Coriander. I am perfectly imperfect and cherished by God, and not anyone else’s authority.
The Golden Rule - to treat others as we want to be treated ourselves - should also account for treating ourselves the way we treat others. I’m more likely to treat others better than I treat myself. I’m more likely to hurt myself than I am to hurt anyone else. I am just as human as anyone though - I have lashed out with my protracted cat claws, and poisoned tongue. Not often, but it happens.
Many years ago now, on one particular New Year’s Eve, I was really angry with my then spouse. We were newly married and I had this expectation of how New Year’s Eve would go with a now built-in New Year’s date. He was having fun chatting with our friends online, but I wanted him to pay attention to me, and to have that traditional midnight kiss with him. In a heated moment, I told him, “I hope you and yours have a terrible year!” forgetting that included me. My year was indeed terrible. (It was the year I lost over half of my blood volume from adenomyosis.) That was a lesson learned the hard way. Since then, I actively work on my communication skills and manage my expectations. It took years of practice to be able to say how I feel.
“And killing things is not so hard it's hurting that's the hardest part
And when the wizard gets to me I'm asking for a smaller heart”
Back to my enlarged heart -
I can’t literally shrink my heart, but I can metaphorically make it right sized for me by getting back into alignment with my higher power. Rekindling my sense of personal integrity has been a beautiful process. I have to remember who I am and for what I stand.
I have to write dangerous emails.