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In the spirit...

... of that fake German that sits as the subtitle for this whatever-this-is, I've been working on divestment. On lightening up. (I have to remind myself to do things like this fairly often; it's apparently my lifelong lesson, which means I have to learn it over and over again. Or practice the realizations that I had at some point prior.) So, this means looking at many different aspects of my life and asking simple/hard questions. What have I been saving that has outlived any potential for its use? What have I been holding on to "just in case..."?  Do I have expectations (of myself, of life, of whatever) that I have outgrown? That are holding me back? That are no longer relevant? What habits need to be broken? Begun?  Where do I waste? Where could I save? Where should I expend or give more? This process is physical and psychical in perhaps equal measure. I've thus far been bravest in the realm of stuff - much has been donated, some has been tossed, so
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October 26, 2021

In the middle of one of those fall-shaped vortices of nostalgia, which is its own kind of blankness or ability to grasp whatever my real is like right now. I swear late October/early November must have been ... something to me in the past, because this recurrence is maddening. I want the insight-key to unlock this pattern. Anyway. I deep-dove into old blogs I used to care enough to bookmark, and found a veritable graveyard. I find that I want to move so far away from the faceb**k & twi**er-verses but also that I need some sort of way to connect to others, but I've let all of those old muscles and connections wither. (Though, also, to be fair - to beeeee faaaaaaaaaiiiir - the people I like the most aren't on any of those already. They're also more reclusive than anyone else I might want to spend time with, as I generally refuse to be egotistical enough to worry that they're just avoiding me.) I need to reestablish new rhythms, but of course this isn't just about
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On likeability

There is a person in my department who cares not one whit whether anyone else thinks he's nice. This isn't deployed as an excuse to behave assholeishly - rather, it seems like an effort of economization, one where likeability lost out to whatever other three hundred things are more important. I know his partner rather better, and she's a delightful person, so I'm betting that he's got some specifically likeable qualities (I suppose that's a rather generous conjecture - again anecdotally, I know loads of lovely people with awful taste in partners, so... grain of salt, applied!) that don't come across in his quotidian interactions. If there is indeed something different about general likeability versus specific likeability... I think I probably waste too much time on behaviors designed to perpetuate an impression of niceness. I hope that I'm likeable in specific ways, or at least that those people who matter to me also find my continued presence in their
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