While I have insomnia I may as well write down all the thoughts, or fragments of thoughts, rattling around in my mostly full mind.

I spoke to my mentor today, but that title doesn’t quite feel right anymore. Is he my peer? He’s definitely my friend, although time and distance have changed us and our relationship. It wasn’t quite as easy to talk to him as it used to be. All the differences between us were very apparent to me and at first he spoke at me, rather than to me, as if I were mostly unchanged. When I did open up, and he recognized the things that we no longer had in common, he said what he has always said about me, that I continue to surprise and delight him with the way I see the world and the paths I choose to take. It felt good to hear that and feel seen and heard. That feeling is like a balm to the cuts and stings I usually try to ignore.

It’s funny that even though my marriage ended nearly 3 years ago, I still realize new things about myself because of it. My therapist says that is a good thing, to be self aware and learn from the past, but it makes me wonder how long it will take to change some of those things. Will I always carry some of the same triggers? I hope not. I try to see with a more open perspective and to trust that not all people are the same. I would like to believe that.

But I have had a real hard time believing anything lately.

Of course, Kip and I talked about faith. Well, no, that was when he was talking at me, expecting me to agree and affirm what he was saying. We used to have big, long, deep conversations about the what if’s and the why’s and how’s of religion and belief… and now it seems as though while I have gone more in the direction that I had long been heading, he seems to have turned back to slightly more fundamentalist views. A chasm opened up then and I felt a bit of the fog that hides our true selves come between us.

It didn’t last too long though because he chuckled and said that I will always go my own way. He should know since he was the one who showed me that I could fly by helping me learn to see my own wings. Kip told me once when I was feeling frustrated by something that if I put my mind to it I was probably the only person he knew that could catch a tiger by it’s tail. I told him that was because I was the tiger and all i had to do was decide to catch up to myself. He laughed and rubbed his beard and said, “see, that is exactly what I mean!”

I haven’t felt much like that lately. I feel dull and a bit hollow some days. Too serious and joyless. Not my usually “highly motivated and intense” self at all. I keep trying to find it again… that spark that lights me up inside, but everything is like wet kindling. I try to formulate ideas of how I want life to be and all I can see is an expanse of sameness, day in and day out. Routine. Paulo Coelho’s word ring in my ears, “if you think adventure is dangerous, you should try routine; it is lethal.” “Adventure is out there!”

But really, seeking adventure is just me trying to escape. I realized that there is plenty of adventure in unravelling why I lived a #crazyisntparttime life and seemed to both love and hate it with every bit of my soul. But it is a pretty damned uncomfortable and maybe dangerous road to go down. It seems to be the one less travelled and so I must go.