I was married to a Buddhist once. Well, she wasn't a Buddhist when I married her. She became one in order to find her serenity in reaction to my own seeking out of serenity in a place of solitude (to me, groups - even Buddhists - represent the opposite of serenity). Her place of serenity didn't allow for a nature-and-universe-loving agnostic like me. Still, some of those Buddhist sayings are wise. I do believe that we all want to pursue our own happiness and that some of us are more successful at it than others. I also believe that we are born into total goodness and most of us slowly lose that goodness, usually through no fault of her own. Our lives then consist of trying to recapture something we lost. I think it's better to try to capture something new.

Insecurity is a tricky thing. We all have it. We all see it in others. None of us like it. But there can be an odd beauty and grace in one's acceptance of and reaction to insecurity. At first, it seems like tension - a strange friction, a forward push, flesh vs. flesh. But when that tension is relieved, there's a moment of peace before the next insecure thought and that moment is a sweet one. I hear it's nice in Santa Barbara this time of year.

I really did like a lot of the Buddhist philosophies. But I know that I will never be a person who avoids confrontation, so it wouldn't work for me. I get angry, impatient, and--most importantly--attached. The idea of keeping everyone in a place where losing them would be easily acceptable is...not acceptable, to me.

Yes, we do all have it. But it's still easy to judge someone else for their insecurity when you're in the position of power. I think it says a lot about someone's character when, instead of using insecurity and vulnerability as reasons to shun another person, they exhibit that grace you mention, and give acceptance.

The tables are often turned, and power shifts in relationships. Everyone's down, sometimes. It's just much less scary when you know that the people around you aren't Kickers.

I had a relationship with someone who just couldn't leave me alone, at first it was cute but after a while it really begins to become suffocating. I mean there is togetherness, and then there is someone wanting to sit and talk to you while you are on the toilet, while you shower, while you eat, while you try to sleep... even the best intentioned people end up hemmed in and defensive because I do believe humans need their own space to think sometimes. I guess I'm lucky in some respects - I'm as insecure as anyone but I realised early on that following people around etc doesn't actually help the problem - you get the attention and you know they're not cheating or whatever but you also know that it could only be because you're there watching them all the time, it doesn't help your self esteem or nerves one bit. When you learn to let them go and each time they keep coming back to you without being forced, it's such a special feeling that it's worth overcoming your insecurities for - trust me. In my head I think of it like those people who fly birds of prey, throwing them aloft and letting them swoop and dive but always coming back when they're done.

So true...it's funny, it can totally make sense to me, and yet when I'm IN the moment, I often can't stop myself from acting that way. It takes a concerted effort, and a real awareness of what I'm doing.

I'm trying to depend less on acceptance from others to make me feel valuable, but it's one of those old habits, and it's dyin' hard.