“There’s a fine line between being spiritual and being a dick.”

Are wise words once spoken by my therapist. The woman had a point. The topic that week was (chosen from an array of any minor occurrence I could blow out of proportion to gain the drama factor and really make me FEEL like I needed a shrink) I opened my door to a friend and she over stayed her welcome.

From the time I was a child, despite not growing up with set boundaries, I became very territorial. Even if I didn’t vocalize it I often made imaginary boundaries – my toys, my room, my friends at school, my car and eventually my apartments when I moved out. Other members of my family are not quite the same. They come to visit, they throw their bags wherever, grab a snack from the fridge, slip their shoes off and plop down on the couch. Initially, I had to get over the boundary crossing I felt and then I learned to take it as a compliment that my homes are… homely.

Needless to say – my space is my space. This is why I live alone. My friend was living month to month in an apartment near by, she invited me over the week I got fired for some tea and a little meditation. I went, she unloaded her woes on me, which is what our relationship consisted of. She told me she had decided to move out and was looking for an apartment to sublet for a while, since she had been looking for weeks and couldn’t find “the perfect one.”

In a state of disbelief from my own “bad fortune” and feeling her strife, as I had once been on the edge of homelessness I immediately threw out the standard I’m-going-to-say-this-only-to-make-you-feel-better, not-because-I-mean-it friend phrase: If you have no where else to go, you can always crash at my place. She immediately lit up and accepted my offer, the lowest bid of sincerity. I left secretly praying that she would find a place… in 3 days. Not only for my own space survival, but for her own good as well- I know what I’m like to live with.

Obviously, she took me up on my offer and moved her stuff into my unorthodoxly large walk in closet in the center of my apartment. We cohabitated for 6 days, my patience tested, however I was under the assumption she was going to leave on the 7th day. She asked to stay longer and reluctantly I agreed. We would do meditations, clean and rearrange my apartment as that is her specialty. She would want to go to sleep around 11pm when I would normally stay up to 4am – I adjusted. We would both look for jobs in the day time, laptops back to back on my dining table. (Oh yeah, she was also unemployed)

She would always say she would pray for jobs, an apartment for herself, yada yada yada. When I had reached my limit and had the next session with my therapist we reviewed the previous week. I told her about how my friend believed the universe is always working in her favor and everything happens for a reason. (Which I believe [to an extent]) and that’s when my therapist spit out those wise words of truth after pointing out that she was being too picky about finding a place and making excuses not to have a job. That gave me the courage to tell my friend the situation wasn’t working for me and I asked her to leave. We’ve only spoken once since.

I felt bad, had anxiety even about the whole situation. I definitely am not the type to take a stand so proudly and firmly for myself – for a belief, sure, but not for my personal well being. Cut to now: not quite full circle as technically (and legally) I’m still in possession of my apartment. However, still no regular, income stabilizing job. I am at my wit’s end. Burned both ends of my faith candle, on the edge of Mt Proverbial Cliff again with no net in sight. In the darkest part of the night… You get the picture.

Of course I turn to my magic 8 ball, lighting candles, googling traditions on how to ring in the Chinese New Year to bring prosperity. I think the difference is I don’t expect God or a power greater than me to swoop down with an open palm where a very naked Jason Segel sits on piles of gold and white cake that reverses weight gain to hand me solutions.

There is a fine line. I actually noticed it when I was in Yoga the other day. I felt judged. I was new, no one knew me. I over heard conversations of what I can only imagine as feats – in their eyes. Naturally, I wanted to pop into the conversation and say “So you did Bikram yoga on an erupting volcano… what do you want a fucking [vegan] cookie?” I’ve been noticing also on facebook, not so much the spirituality, but the incessant need to be greater than thou. I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing it from others, but I have no idea how my self-awareness-odometer is working these days.

I’m at a weird point in my life – low on some levels (financially, career-ly) but extremely high on others (self care, meditation, kind heartedness). I had a pick me up chat with a dear friend tonight and she said in the face of my biggest fear coming true I am staying strong, I haven’t gone off my extremely disciplined diet and have been staying true to being a calmer, well rounded, better me in 2012. Knowing there was nothing I could do about my problem tonight I continued on with my plans and cooked a wonderful, healthy, paleo dinner for myself. I enjoyed cooking, eating and cleaning my supper.

If I could ask God to shrink my fat cells to a size 6, fill my bank account to a figure with 6 zeros and line the world’s sexiest bachelors up for me to chose from, buffet style, what the hell fun would that be? I wouldn’t be proud to have, since I did not earn any of those things therefor I would take them for granted and live a very numb life ill appreciative to all the ups and downs I got myself through.

It’s hard though in this rat race to feel special, needed, on track, calm, peaceful, loved, happy, worthy. At least through the past 20 days of “The better me in 2012” campaign I’ve learned that if anyone if going to aide in me feeling those things, it’s me. The work I do on myself is the resources I call on in times that require strong character. Like a brick wall, one by one being built to eventually support me, not block others out.