Wednesday, September 12, 2018

yesterday lulu was calm and leaned into me and i felt good, like i can do this thing
today she was in zany mode and all i could do was hold on. 
funny how a puppy calls up my insecurity. it's right beneath the skin. 
i've always been an amateur. i'm a walker, not a trainer, i don't like discipline. 
i want mutual respect, though i don't quite know how it works, and when it does it feels like ordinary magic. except its not ordinary, as it should be, it's rare.   
i blog, a word i still cringe at, rather than make a book. 
i wrote poems in college because they were the shortest things, like breaths.  
in fact i'm also short of breath; i even have to think about a longer breath. 
i rely on instinct and the vagaries of flow. but i question what is instinct and where does it come from, and when i react i think that's not instinct, it's conditioning, it's fear, it's something else that creeps in where instinct falters.  
when it does flow i feel natural, i breathe, at home in life, in equilibrium, connected, instinctive.  

but i can be so easily thrown. it may be that i still am learning anyway, but i think i'm sort of irresolutely resolutely amateur. i've made that part of the diary, with a kind of humiliated pride.  i'm not a whisperer, i'm a dreamer. i say, hey dog, come on, dream with me. and they sometimes do. insecurity has been a hell, but it's also kept me close to the source of the amateur energy i love and value. amateur means engaged, for love not money, non-professional, devoted. also inept, ha. but i' getting paid, right, so i'm professional! that's why i quit selling art, not just because of the low pay. i want to be an amateur, in the original sense. not ineptly, but for the love of doing.
ok but i do want to work beyond these embarrassments too, when i get overwhelmed i want to break through, i want the reward of diligence and patience and work. i want to work like an amateur but i think i want professional help.

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