Tag Archives: fight

Uncertainty Is the New Black

Uncertainty Is the New Black

Un lucru pe care l-am realizat după o săptămână de online este că mă pot obișnui cu orice, atâta timp cât îi văd utilitatea. Iar pentru mine, tot ceea ce fac are scopul de a ține oamenii conectați și mai mult sau mai puțin în toate mințile.

Am vorbit doar cu voi adulții zilele astea, pentru că știu ca noi, adulții suntem cei care trebuie să ținem reduta și să le dăm un exemplu demn de urmat copiilor din jurul nostru legat de reziliență. Și am iubit timpul petrecut pe Zoom, WhatsApp, telefon și mail pentru că mi-a reamintit că suportul psihologic, consilierea și psihoterapia se pot face într-o varietate de contexte.

Și mai mult decât atât, am realizat că această perioadă nu face altceva decât să ne permită să ne apropiem mai tare, să ne cunoaștem mai bine și să fim unii în preajma altora în momente de vulnerabilitate care mai de care.

Să fim în sedințe când vecinul de la 3 se hotărăște să își facă pereții șvaițer cu bormașina.

Să vorbim la telefon când cu o mână lucrăm, cu o mână dăm de mâncare copiilor și cu încă o mână le printăm materialele pentru continuarea educației acasă.

Să trimitem un email când suntem cu nervii în piuneze de atâta stat acasă, când prin natura noastră suntem niște umblători.

Așa că mă bucur că am fost în vizită acasă cam pe la toată echipa cu care lucrez. Ce casuțe frumoase aveți, care reflectă cum sunteți voi… când nu sunteți la serviciu. Când sunteți pur și simplu la voi acasă.

Numai că zilele astea nimic nu mai e pur și simplu. S-au încâlcit toate precum lanțul ăla pe care oricât de mult ai încerca să-l deznozi tot degeaba.

Uncertainty is the new black.

Și pentru niște oameni care s-au culcușit în certitudini, și păci, și confort mondial, acest val ne-a luat pe sus și ne duce departe-departe. De fapt cred că ne deschide ochii cu privire la esența lucrurilor, mai presus de propria ogradă.

Cum reacționăm la incertitudine este într-adevăr o poezie. Mai cu rimă. Mai fără. Mai cu vers lung și alb.

Cum reacționăm la frică e și mai și. Acum câteva luni le povesteam elevilor de a 11-a despre fight, flight, freeze și fawn. Acum le trăim.

Voi în ce categorie vă încadrați? Luptați? Fugiți? Înghețați? Sau deveniți brusc prietenoși și complianți?

Puteți să aveți un moment de sinceritate și claritate cu voi în care să vă răspundeți la această întrebare. Nu de alta, dar în funcție de răspuns veți avea mai multă claritate cu privire la ‘De ce?’-ul din spatele propriilor acțiuni.

La mine e o combinație în care predomină lupta. Că mie îmi place să mă opun. În general. Așa că față în față cu adversitatea, opoziția pică numai bine. Și mai e și nițică fugă. Fugă de mesajele înțesate de negativitate și de spiralele sociale care se comportă ca niște găuri negre care îți absorb orice urmă de energie.

Cu încremenirea mai ușor, dar în ceea ce privește fawn-ul, aș zice că am și ceva din el, pentru că sunt convinsă că prin dialog și comunitate putem trece orice primejdie oricât de mare.

I showed you mine, you show me yours… în dulcele stil al reciprocității.

Până una alta, be safe and sane.

F(r)ight!

F(r)ight!

Does fighting make us grow up or… grow apart? Probably the question which comes to my mind every time I fight with… somebody meaningful in my life! I believe there is the art of couple fighting. as there is an art of war or an art for love. Fighting comes somewhere in-between love and war, so technically anything goes…

Technically! When chairs start flying in the thick tense air you just know that you have reached a brand new rock bottom. But maybe I rushed a bit into the whole “chairs flying through the air” situation, because it couples rarely start their fighting routines so abruptly. Each couple has it and they see it coming while they’re sitting in a crowd and one of them does something “unforgivable” in the other’s big staring eyes.

And from there forward, things just start building up. Mean looks, passive-aggressive remarks, pitch-black somehow offensive jokes, bitter couple uncalled for self-irony, flirting with third parties, vengeance hook-ups, guilty mornings, stereotypical “I’m sorry” dozen of roses, one-night stand pregnancy scare, self-loathing, self-pity… until you end up all by yourSELF. This can pretty much sum up the “growing apart” scenario.

We want passionate, consuming love! We thrive for it, but it has never come to our narrow minds that passion comes in the custom settings of our partner. Whether (s)he’s passionate while giving us the orgasm of our life-time or by ticking off the shit out of us, it’s still passion!

I am one of the women who will never settle for a neat and cozy romance scenario. I WANT PASSION! And modesty aside, when I set my mind to get something, I usually end up getting it! For the best or worst…

I have experienced both cases and concluded that I like the first most. Passion, just like any other intense emotion, can be quite addictive! If you get too much, you want more. You want more, you get more. You get more, you want even more. And your partner can rise up to the occasion and give it to you, because you are on the same wave length or feel frustrated by your unearthly demands and show you a bit of the dark side of passion.

What’s the dark side of passion anyway? Abuse of any kind: constraint to do/not do certain things (permission-interdiction power games), heavy recurrent screaming, insulting, beating, humiliating, threatening, forced sex (a.k.a. couple rape!). Oh, but the love, the love is soooo strong! Hmmmm, no it’s not! IT’S JUST BLIND IRRATIONAL PASSION! But it feels so intense that you almost mistake it for love. Love does not look like that. It’s passionate, but it’s also kind…

491

Can you have love without passion? Yes! Been there, done that! Felt disappointed, frustrated and sad…

Can you have passion without love? Yes! Been there, done that also! Felt outraged, angry and vengeful…

Can you have love and passion all together?

Only if you’re goddamn lucky, if you stubbornly persevere and you keep at all times, irrespective of your level of inner-frustration, your… humanity, trust and respect your beloved. Giving him/her the benefit of the doubt, when you are experiencing the strongest doubts of your life. A leap of faith in a sea of uncertainty. Swimming injured in an ocean filled with hungry sharks.

Can you do this? I understand that you want it all, but are you willing to give your all to have it all?
If not, don’t even bother dreaming it… cuz you’re not worthy of such a big dream…
If so, show it, believe it and do it! If you dream it that means that you can do it…

Fight it! Fly away from it! Fix it! Fuck it!

Fight it! Fly away from it! Fix it! Fuck it!

The 4 magical Fs strike once more in the midst of the autumn of our contempt. And to think that I didn’t even plan for a poetic post tonight, but a raw and archaic one. With angry roars and bitchy lines. To shake it out, shake it out more so that even Florence herself together with her musical Machine. Outside is cold, windy and rainy. Inside is messy, grey and bombing grenades. Big ones.

I like grenades, but not necessarily when they blow up in my face or worst, inside myself. I like to throw them far away in the 7 seas and 7 skies. And then watch the fireworks do their charm. While it does not seem to get better on the other side of the windows, I thought it would be of common decency from my part to put some order in my inner shit. Shovel it a bit so it would stop stinking so bad. Maybe hide it under a beautiful flowery rug so no one knows about it.

Or, who knows, maybe just put it into a different perspective in which I can see a bit of sun in this God forsaken land of fog and gloom. As I was sitting away from myself, right in the opposite corner of my not-so-rectangular room, it just hit me: every time I am faced with a problem I summon almost unconsciously the 4 Fs to come to my rescue: Fight, Flight, Fix, Fuck!

I’ve known FIGHT for nearly all my yet-not-bloomed life. He is very good to me in times of trouble. I got it from my mom, I guess, this Amazon woman spirit entangled with the force of a Celtic lady. Works miracles in all types of crisis situations, and mainly domination rules big time. A sudden rush takes over my whole body and makes me capable of things I had not the slightest idea I could do. After the FIGHT I feel like a Xena the warrior princess: beautiful, strong and conqueror of the world itself.

I still don’t know for sure how I feel about FLIGHT. I know that FLIGHT is supposed to make me feel light(er), but it is so Goddamn difficult to call her. How could I, of all people, resort to flying away from a problem instead of facing it like a man! But wait! I’m NOT a man. I am a WO-MAN! If men fight, then women fly? Is it so simple as an “if… then…” sequence?

Nothing can ever be that simple in my mind, because this big dialogue is happening right in my head, my darling readers… Anyway, after some seconds of pain and despair, I came to the conclusion that FLIGHT can mean also taking some steps back from the problem in order to see it better. Or even postpone its resolution for more cheerful and witty moments. That’s more like it! 😉

After some FIGHT and some FLIGHT, here comes Mr. FIX who thinks he can be the perfect fix for any problem, at any time, in any season or circumstances. He’s a bit silly, because he tends to assume that one solution works for a ton of problems. Your head hurts? Fix it! How? Bump it on the wall for 5′. In the end your new headache will be so new and powerful that it will completely make you forget your old one ;). The voices in your head tell you that you should have listened more to your gut on a certain matter? Fix it! How? Bump your head on the nearest wall you have in sight until your ears start ringing and the voices are muted. Wonderful!

Ohohoho, and if nothing seems to work anymore you can always use a little bit of FACHITOL! It does miracles on your life perspective, expectations, dreams, convictions (past, present & future), plans and representations of how things are supposed to be in this freaking life. The honorable duchess of FUCK does not give neither a fighting nor a flying FUCK on how things will turn out. It is what it is, and so it will be! If you’re happy and you know it, simply don’t give a FUCK just as the song says it (or weren’t those the lyrics?!).

Now my biggest dilemma is: What would happen if I were to ask the 4 Fs to join forces and give me a helping hand right about now, the funk soul brother?