Crotchety Old Woman Raving

I am not feeling "nice" at the moment. I am irritable and crotchety. I am full into a burning desire to cut connections; to prune my link list; to drop my membership on a variety of lists. I am swirling in a torrent of emotions that seem to have arisen in the last few weeks. Chief among the emotional responses that I am feeling these days seems to be some mixture of anger and impatience.



I am resisting. I go through this periodically, and inevitably, I end up wishing I hadn't done what seems so compelling to me in the moment. Usually, after I cut off all the links, I calm down and begin to restore the connections that I've destroyed.



I know that my present frustration has roots in a couple of places.



I recently dropped my membership in a Yahoo group list that was, at least to some degree, aimed at those who practice polyamory. The difficulty that I had, over time with this group was that I continually bumped into their sense of self-righteousness, and arrogance. It was, in theory a place that was supposed to be spiritual and loving and accepting -- largely driven by and people by pagan and wiccan types, but the reality was that it was one of those "in-group" and "out" kinds of situations. It came to seem to me that, just as one finds narrow-mindedness and self-absorption, and wicked exclsivity among those whose spirituality tends to follow a christian path, all those failings are just as common among practitioners of more alternative spiritualities. Perhaps it is the belief that one has somehow touched the "divine" that makes for total butt-wipe behavior.



In the end, the one thing that seemed to be most valued within the "in-group" was their self-declared "juiciness." Now, there is nothing wrong with juiciness in its season, but I can attest that it doesn't last forever. I've mourned the loss of that juiciness -- I've come to terms with the fact of my status in relationship to the celebrated ripeness of womanhood. I know and accept that I'll never travel that path again. There is much to be said for that stage of life that is "juicy." I'd happily travel back in time to live in that place again, but it is not to be. I do, however, reject the presumptive view among my young and robust pagan compatriots that there is no value or wisdom to any other part of the life path. This crone has experience and wisdom to share -- but I'll not force it on anyone, and I'll not spend my energy trying to educate those who believe they've achieved perfect wisdom simply as a function of their "juiciness." Gahhhhhh!



Too, this business with the hearing "event" has shaken me from my moorings again. I was "jazzed" for the appointment on Friday, and to have it end as it did was disappointing, but also aggravating. Where and how am I supposed to find the information that might inform my decisions with regard to this, except in consultation with a healthcare professional? That this doctor was so callous and cavalier about my situation, my hopes, and my fears, makes me question the value of continuing to deal with medical professionals on just about every front. Doctors aren't gods, but they sure as hell seem to think that they might be close. I know that I could chase after this. I know that I could push for further testing; find another doctor; make this a much, much, much bigger deal. In the end, I'd still be exactly in the same place -- hearing what I do, and not hearing those things that I don't. It is, to a degree, about the inevitable diminishments. No real upside to fighting against the march of diminishment. Gahhhhhh!



I've been caught up in the financial stresses of the last few months.



I am nearly hysterical about the possible outcome of this upcoming election.



I am only sometimes "good" about what is and is not physically feasible in my own intimate relating.



I know my frustration is all about my issues. I know that no one "out there" is really causing the upset that I feel. I know that youth and vigor and sexual fullness is not a crime. I know that the medical profession is not in the business of catering to my hopes and dreams. I know, but I am so tender that I simply don't want to have to confront it all just now.



I'm muttering away in my head -- telling myself that pulling into isolation is not helpful or positive. For now, the voice that mutters is winning the argument.



swan