Friday I was joking around with some listeners in the Big Little Podcast's Kik chat room about being a big sweaty "Sharkpig" after going for a run.
Someone found clip art of an actual drawn sharkpig, and I joked "Now just put a diaper and a funny hat on it, and make it sit in front of a microphone and "hog" the conversation and you've pretty much got me."
How about that podcasting hat?
They did!
Thursday I was texting with my friend Marie Furie, and we were talking about overcoming difficulties. Often, that requires a support network.
I have a big one, and wow it's hard to explain.
I can be sort of complicated. My little and I aren't entirely the same person. Then there's the weird connection I have with my other two heads of the Ghidrah. We're close in a way that defies description. (Even when time and distance keep us apart, as sometimes happens, the connection is evergreen. The second I get around sister, it's like no time has passed at all.)
Then there's my shark thing. I have a lot, way too many shark plushies. Many of them have names and personalities. I often talk to them and can sometimes hear them talk back.
I'm aware this is not entirely sane. That's really okay. The sensible part of my brain knows that the sharks, much like little mako, are a conveniently partitioned away dissociative segment of my overall mind. I'm like a weirdly fractured and useful cerebral Swiss Army knife.
At the very heart of this menagerie is my alpha shark, Chum.
There he is, with my friend Alice.
Chum does an incredibly thankless job for me. He's the seat of my insecurities. Whereas I'm bold, brash, and outspoken, he's timid, cautious, and fearful. I whisper to him the stuff on my mind, and he swallows it down, breaks it up, digests it.
Generally, much like Dorian Grey did with his picture, I keep Chum at home where he's safe. There are a very few places I will take him with me. At night, I cuddle him and we discuss the day. I look out for him. I take care of him, and he in turn takes care of me.
As I told Marie, I'm my own support network. It's a gift I'm grateful for.
Now that I'm walking and running most mornings I'm making a point of exploring, poking around different streets in my neighborhood.
Some of them are really beautiful.
I've started to see some of the same people each morning too, and we smile and wave at one another.
I'm starting to remember that I actually love to do this.
I've been a member of the Track Your Happiness Project for several years now. That's important, I'll get back to it shortly.
Today, I was having a conversation with Maya about the nature of our relationship, over my lunch hour. Maya has been my very good friend for more than a decade, and my more-than-a-friend for several years now.
It's hard to define what we are to one another. We don't have a good word for it, ourselves. She's always been there for me, and for Missy, too. She's helped me through some incredibly painful things, as I have for her. We love one another very much.
Having a unique, Indefinable relationship isn't all rainbows and Jelly Babies though. Sometimes it's challenging. I had a bit of an epiphany over something I haven't been doing well for a while, and called her up, excited to open the hood of this thing, and maybe tinker with the spark plugs of it with her.
We did. It was a great talk.
During the talk, I got a text from the Happiness folks, and they asked me "To what extent are you growing as a person as a result of what you're doing right now?"
My answer: A LOT.
The neat thing about these sorts of moments is that they help me grow holistically. I learn a little bit more about who and what I am, and how I relate to those I care about each time I have one of these "growth opportunities."
I'm pretty lucky.
So I'm on my new schedule for work. That means I have the time in the mornings to go running. It's a big gift really. I'm sitting on my front steps right now, resting after a 45 minute walk.
"Kids only. No grownups. TIME MACHINE."
It's daunting to be getting started again, I'll admit that. But I feel so fortunate to be able to do so. I saw something this morning that struck me funny as I was walking.
It was a box that some kids had been playing with. Their mom or dad threw it out, and it is now filled of garbage. But for a little while it was some kid's Time Machine.
I'm glad I ran into it. In a way my morning workout is kind of like my own time machine.
