Trajectory and Position
I never have seen my trajectory as linear; rather, I experience it as circular, basically, spiraling:
_ _ _ _
_ _ /_ \
/ | \ |
_ | _ V | /
v / | * / /
| | \ __|_ _ /__ ‘
\ \ _ _ _ _ ‘_ _ ’
\ _ _ _ _ ’
[when this newsletter was on tinyletter and I only had access to text for graphics, the above looked like this:]
Notice that spot with the asterisk, which is nearly in the same location as the V head of the arrow, except the asterisk is at a place on the trajectory that is accompanied by a rising sensation while the end of the spiral is heading straight down. This proximity between asterisk and arrow is achieved over a couple of time cycles. At intervals I find myself in the same place as I was before but now with the distinct impression I am going backward instead of forward. In both the upward and downward trajectory, it’s easy to think that I’ve figured it out, or lost touch, respectively.
But the opposite impression is also available if I reach for it: last time I was at this particular place I was at the top of my game and accelerating. Now I am in the worst spot I’ve been at in quite some time, but ultimately, I’m still in a place I thought was pretty great a couple time cycles ago, and I’m in that place without expending energy. I’m in what feels, relatively speaking, like a free fall to oblivion, but as far as absolute location, I am where I was, and now with the ease of a … falling body.
Momentum and relative change in circumstance and comparison of present to past, all of these are the metrics by which I tend to measure my location, and they are all simultaneously objective (true in a measurable sense — I can’t pay rent for April 2020, just like I couldn’t pay rent for April 2018) and totally subjective. For example, I have this somewhat subjective idea about myself that I’m on track if I don’t have to tell the landlord I can’t pay rent, and this is feels more true in 2020 than it was in 2018, as I’ve redefined what “on track” means, making it seem more frustrating in 2020.
But consider that in April 2018 I borrowed money from family to move from homelessness to an apartment, the first place I’ve lived alone in my entire life aside from one semester of lone living in college. My inability to afford rent 7 days later was one small blemish in a big win. In fact I had tricked an apartment complex into letting me get into their place on March 31, with a $300 deposit and prorated rent of 1 day for March, and knew full well that April’s rent was not even late till April 6, and lateness meant merely a late fee. This was a big victory, this was me rising from homelessness, this was arrow-upward stuff, and part of my plan of paying my first months rent late, but by mid month, which I ended up doing.
This month, April 2020, my inability to pay rent has to do with my decision to invest in groceries and home supplies for my kids who I spent 3 weeks with, after income dried up due to the coronavirus, and was marked not by what felt like a skin-of-my-teeth tricky cash flow maneuver with an apartment complex, but by an articulate text to the landlord 20 days prior to the late-date, stating that I was going to have trouble with rent for April, leading to clearly communicated permission from the landlord to pay late without fee, plus a commitment from the landlord to sort out at least this month and next with flexible terms over time given the pandemic. This is an arrow down moment, but I’m still ahead of where I was, and will level off soon and head in the forward/upward direction again, if I know anything about these damn cycles.