Puer Aeternus

I have to say. I am impressed with my salsa dancing.

I know, I know. It sounds mighty egotistical, but I am just being honest. It’s amazing how quickly I’m picking up on Latin dancing. I have completed my beginner’s class in August and have now graduated on to intermediate. I have been to three Latin social dance parties so far and I find it flattering that I have been asked to dance by a few men who are regulars in the circuit (that means they have gotten really good at the genre and they think I put up a good act of pretending to know what I’m doing). I really appreciate that because I get to practice being docile and submissive, for once, yet at the same time, practice rapid footwork while being spun around. What Billy Bob said would take a year has only taken me a month.

Life’s been quiet lately. In the last week, I’ve counted one big synchronicity, which gives me a controlled sense of delight because it tells me that I’m in that flowing place which is supposedly our natural state where inside and outside is one. Remember the blog post about the volleyball game? I was driving to a party on Friday night and it occurred to me that I dreamt about that volleyball game a couple of weeks ago. August 23rd to be exact (I have lucid dreams, you see, and because of them, I was propelled to journal my dreams). Ain’t that something?

Speaking of life being quiet, I have been more introspective than usual which is probably because of The Danish. One truth that I am coming to accept is how afraid I still am of intimate (read: stifling) relationships. I knew that I have a very obvious pattern of building “relationships” with men who live far away, but I always chalked that up to my wandering nature. I travel so much, so of course the men I would connect with would be in the city that I happen to be spending my weekend in. Well, this weekend, I was not travelling but still managed to draw in two out-of-towners. One from New Zealand, one from Manhattan, none from Nevada. What are the odds?

Oh, so much work to be done!

On the surface, it looks like I’m just having a lot of fun in my life. To some, it may appear reckless and flighty. I have been called “boy crazy” and even that is alright. People judge my actions based on how they would act or react to the same situation. And that is understandable because we can only perceive the world with our own eyes and no one else’s. What people don’t see that only a select few are privy to (or what a limited number of people are capable of seeing), is that I work a lot on myself. My decisions are most often very conscious and deliberate instead of haphazard and scatterbrained as some people deem them to be. I put a lot of emphasis on empirical knowledge and experience. My intention is to work on myself, grow some fierce fearlessness, and ultimately learn to trust life.

I do admit that I often wish that people loved themselves enough to work on themselves, that people would own their shit instead of projecting it on to people. But I remind myself that ultimately, all I can do is work on my own crap and get it out of people's way. Hopefully, if they are sensitive and open enough, something in me touches something in them and inspire them to ask themselves the important questions. Is that too much to ask?