The Psychic/Angel Reading

So, I had my psychic reading. It was pretty amazing, and I’d totally do it again.

The medium started out telling me I had two native American guides behind me, (I think that means they kind of have your back…) one male one female. The first thing she did was tell me their advice on something very personal, which I’m not going to put here, but it was lengthy, on target, out of the blue, and believeable. Then she said, “I’m hearing a lot about Florida…”

OMG, my two friends and I jumped! That is so the focus of my life right now. Trying to get my house ready to sell, planning to move to Florida. Hoping my mother will still be around when I do, being near my sister, never ever having to deal with a New England winter again.

She said, “they say it will be a really good thing for you. They say it will offer you many opportunities, and you can choose any or all of them. And it will be easier for you financially there….” It was pretty amazing. She knew nothing about me except my name before this.

Then she had a female presence, over me, which means older than me. She asked if my mother was alive and since she is, we determined this was her mother. She said, “She says she was a good cook, loved to cook from scratch, grow her own vegetables, etc. But never got to pass that information on to your mother or you.” I said, “Because she died when my mother was 4 years old.” Now, considering my mom was born in 1921, this makes my grandmother’s death in 1925, living on an Indiana farm, of course she made everything from scratch and grew her own stuff. The medium said, “She said she didn’t want to leave your mother so young, but that it was part of both of their journeys. It made your mother strong, and able to deal with so many things in her life..” She suggested I pass that along to my mother, and I might when I see her again. I will have to decide if it would be well-receive by my mom, but since it is something her mother asked me to do, I probably will.

Which is what my sisters and I have always said, that Mom is able to adjust to any situation with such grace. Obviously, the one she faces now the hardest, not being able to communicate and being partially paralyzed resulting in the loss of so much of her prized independence. But I do believe that because of her mothers death so young, and subsequently living with a variety of aunts and uncles, that she learned how to adjust to different living situations, and to make friends and make people love her. Because everyone loves her.

The medium said she was showing her two faces, identical…did I look like my mother? No….My mother looked just like her mother. The medium said, “It seems as if it was close enough that people remarked on it.” Oh yes, in fact, it caused problems with my mothers older sister, because everyone commented on how much mom looked like my grandmother, and never mentioned her older sis, who as I understand it, was quite jealous of the fact and the attention it brought Mom.

It was pretty cool to have a communication with my grandmother that I never met. And to know she is with me.

Then she had a male presence which was undoubtedly my father. First off, she had advice on the same personal situation as the native American guides, which validated that it was my father, because it was exactly what he would say to me, lol.

Then the medium said, “I hear someone yelling ‘Fore!!!’ Did your father play golf?” OMG, I jumped, the hair stood up on my arms. “Yes,” I answered. “Every moment that he could.” He once got a hole in one, I think it was his proudest moment next to the birth of his 3 daughters.

She asked if he was part of a group of men, like a club or something because he was with these men and was happy… I could only think of the Air Force, he was in the reserves til a few years before he died in 1988.

It was wonderful to hear from him, she told me how he loves me and is with me. These things I knew, he always made sure we knew he loved us, and I have always known he was with me.

She asked who did the Ancestry.com thing. That is my older sister…she was able to put together about a 4 page family tree. The medium said, “but I hear that you weren’t able to have those family discussions where 3 or 4 generations sit around passing along family stories…” And this was so true. I said, “no, we weren’t but we’ve gotten my mother to write down a lot of her life, and to tag all the photos we can find.” The medium said that there are legacy writers now, who interview elders and then turn their stories into books for them.

Which I think was maybe a message for me about the writing, maybe in conjunction with my 2 sisters, since we all share a love of writing, particularly my older sis and I. I spoke to my sis about it yesterday, that maybe when I move down to Florida, we could collaborate. Just throwing the idea out but she was receptive.

The medium also told us in the beginning that some messages are meant for more than one of us. At one point, she was asking another woman about someone in her family who had a name like a flower, a young person. The woman nodded but didn’t really respond as if she knew exactly who she was talking about. But I think it was meant more for me. My niece who died in a car accident 10 years ago when she was 24….her name was Aster. I had been hoping she’d show up and I think she did. I should have spoken up…I didn’t because it wasn’t my reading, but in hindsight I should have. Next time I will.

So…it was pretty amazing, satisfying, good for my soul. I have no doubt that my loved ones were there, or my guides (how else did she know about Florida??). Looking forward to doing it again sometime.

No More Heartbreak

I was with my ex-husband for just shy of 40 years.  We met when we were 18, married at 25, divorced at 58.  In that time, he broke my heart 1000 times.  Rivers of tears, countless sleepless nights.  Days of deep-seated fear, hours of sheer terror.  A broken heart was not something I wanted to revisit.

I left him when I was 55, almost 56.  I felt only relief from the moment I was gone.  And fear for my son, who stayed with him.  But mostly relief, that my world upon waking would be the same as when I went to bed.

When I was 63 I met S. A full 7 years after leaving my ex.  I was attracted to him before we even met.  I have often commented on our connection.  It seemed uncanny, it seemed that we had to already know each other on some level.  It’s never been a balanced relationship, but it’s been fun, interesting, and passionate. But then, last winter, he fucked the prison whore, and broke my heart.  To his credit, he knew he was going to break my heart, and tried to break it of with me before he did that.  But I was too convincing, I guess, in my misery, and sadness, and he couldn’t do it.

Since then….it has been off again, on again for us.  We have that connection, a physical desire, but we want different things from life, I guess.  We see things differently.  We react to things differently.  And the places we came from on our separate journeys were a long ways apart.  Each time now, that we are off again, it is a little harder to put it back on.  No matter that the love is there, will always be, it just isn’t making either of us happy.  My heart is broken again, I am guessing that his heart is feeling a little pain too, but I could be wrong.  I can’t speak for him.

Then there is A….who I met after the thing with the prison whore.  We became close.  A loves me, is not afraid to be vulnerable and tell me exactly how he feels.  He knows I have this thing with S.  A, however, is not here.  He’s off on his grand adventure, and sends me pics and  tells me how he misses me, and loves me, but he’s not here.  He’s out west, in one of the national parks….he won’t be settled in for probably a year.  There is no future really there.  And I never could drum up the passion for him.  But love, yes, I love the man. He treats me like gold. I think his purpose in my life is to remind me how I should be treated.

When I first told him I was going to see S again, he sent me a beautiful email, telling me he knows he only offers heartbreak on a platter, because he knew he would be leaving on this great adventure, but that he would balance it with love and tenderness.

But God, I didn’t want another heartbreak.  I don’t want any more of them.  I want to love someone who can love me back, fully, unafraid….  I am tired of the games people play in their heads, holding back out of fear, fear not caused by me, but by a past love.  Fear which has no basis in the present, but still colors everything.  I’m tired of having a passionate physical relationship, which never carries over into life, and living.

I think I’d just rather be alone that deal with another heartbreak.  I’m not saying that if someone came into my view I wouldn’t give it a chance.  I’d sure like to find the love that lasts before I leave this earth.  But I think when it begins to go bad, I need to just let it go, instead of trying to make it work.  Better to be alone, and whole, than have my heart axed in two again.

Transformation

I talked to my ex husband yesterday.  It is unusual.  I didn’t talk to him for 6 or 8 months, and twice now in the last 10 days.  He has led himself down the primrose path to destruction.  I believe that now, now that he has created so much chaos for himself,, he is reaching out to the one person who he knows always loved him.  He needed help sorting something out, and I was able to cut through the bullshit for him, (which is all self created by him), and let him see reality.

Then he told me his aunt passed away a couple of days ago.  This is unusual, in that this is the 3rd (at least) member of his family to die since we’ve been apart, but the first one he’s told me about.  It was too late for me to go to the wake or the funeral, but at least I can send her children a card.  They were part of my life for 40 years, I was grateful that he told me.  Which means to me, that he perhaps doesn’t see me anymore as the cause of all his problems, but as someone who just had to save her own life,, (and our sons).  Perhaps it means that going forward our relationship will be based on commonalities, on the better part of our history, instead of the abuse he piled on my son and I in an effort to maintain control.  I hope so.  I would like to see him as a friend.  It’s been 8 1/2 years since I left him.

I would hope that the same can be true of S and I.  S was the first man I was involved with since my divorce.  I feel still the unconditional love I have always felt for him, despite the ugliness that came up in the last few days.  I know we can’t be together as we were right now, but I am not forecasting the future.  How can we know?

My friend A left on a grand adventure this morning.  Downsized from a 3800 sq ft beautiful home to a camper, with his son.  They are headed out to the Olympic Peninsula eventually, stopping along the way where ever they feel the desire.  By October he will be in Texas at his brothers ranch, and then on to the Southwest in the spring.  I went to see him, and he told me,  “Look at me, I have to say this now, I won’t have another chance.  I know I scared you with it before.  But,   I just want you to know I love you so much.  You have forever changed me.”  I still do not feel the passion for him that he feels for me, and I’m glad, because I was just able to be excited for him to take on this adventure.  He’s a sweet man, we will stay in touch.

But the whole point is, love never dies, does it?  It can change, and transform, but it’s energy.  Energy can’t be created or destroyed, only transformed.  My love for these 3 men in my life will continue to change, but it will always exist.  No matter what has been thrown at me, the hate, the anger, the viciousness that can accompany pain….in the end, it is always love that is left.

I’m at peace with all of this.  I’m happy to have found a way back to peace with all of them.

Love and light, all.

Reality Check

Reality is the conjectured state of things as they actually exist, rather than as they may appear or might be imagined. In a wider definition, reality includes everything that is and has been, whether or not it is observable or comprehensible. – Wikipedia

Image result for reality

Trying to sort through memories, dreams, visions, events, people who came and left in the last year.  How much of it was real?  How much of it was conjecture on my part?

What was real, aside from putting my head on my own pillow at night, by myself.  The chaotic energy of my son in the house. The morning meditations.  The mundane household tasks.

How much of love was real?  How much of the passion was real?  How much of it was just created.  Just me trying so hard to get what I wanted.

So…how much of the ugly was real?  If the love maybe wasn’t completely real, maybe all the ugly wasn’t either.

I’ve been reading Byron Katie’s books on The Work.  The four questions….

1. Is it true?  2. Can you know absolutely that it’s true? 3. How do you react, how do you feel, when you think that thought? 4. Who would you be without that thought?

Answers:  1. I don’t know.  I thought so, but maybe not. 2. No. No. NO.  3. I am emotional.  4. Relaxed, happy, non-judgmental.

I don’t know what was real, and what wasn’t.  But I do know this.

Love never hurts. It never makes you feel bad about yourself. It never makes you insecure.  If it’s doing that 75% of the time, and bringing you joy 25% of the time, it’s not love.  Especially, when you’re the only one whose thinking it is.

Well….whether or not it was love isn’t really important now, because the love, if that’s what it was, is gone.  Poof!  In a big cloud of epithets cast for reasons not fully understood, it’s gone.

I think though,  it’s floating around in the universe, waiting to come back where it’s real.

Change and Connection

I sat outside last night for a few minutes before I went to bed. I was tired, I have been sleeping poorly, as I guess could be expected from the events of the weekend. I hadn’t talked to S for most of the day. I gazed at the half moon, with thin clouds racing by it.  Sitting out there, I could feel S’s sadness. I knew he was at his home, 50 miles away, and feeling bad. I messaged him, and my intuition, that connection we have, was right.

I know he just doesn’t get it, why I just can’t do it anymore, why things can’t stay as they were for me.

The only thing that is permanent, is change.

My emotions of the last week, maybe 2, have been more and more to separate our lives, to end this relationship that never could get off the ground. I look at him, and I love him in that unconditional way. I accept who he is, I accept the direction he has wanted to take. He is the one who has come to me in times when he’s been introspective, to tell me he needs to be on his own, he needs to find out who he is by himself, without being attached to someone.

I totally support that.  I can’t imagine being this age and not knowing what I want.  I have told him to do it, to keep me in the loop if he wants.  I have told him I’m not going anywhere right now.  No one can forsee the future. But if we keep the communication open, we can remain friends, and honor the connection that I find rather exceptional.  It doesn’t mean that we have to be intimate, it means that we can remain close friends, if he wants to.

Right now, we want different things.  Neither of us can cross over to the other side, not and remain true to ourselves.

I know…that in the end, he knows that, he will get it, that we want such different lives. At least, that’s how it seems to me. Since he doesn’t know what he wants, I guess I can’t speak for him. But I certainly want something different from the relationship I have had had with him, than he wants.

I think it’s just hard to be single at this age. I don’t think anyone makes it to being single in their 60’s and doesn’t have baggage, even though I have seen profiles of men who say they don’t. They do, they have just buried it. I’ve tried to let mine bubble up and deal with it when it does. It’s not always easy. Like I told S, early in our relationship, he was the first man in my life since my marriage, and even though I thought I took plenty of time to be aware of my baggage, my triggers, there are some you don’t even know about until you are in a relationship. And lucky him…he got to experience those.

Don’t worry, he had plenty of his own, to pay me back, lol.

But the fact remains….I’m ready to move past friendship. I’m ready for someone to love me, the way I loved him. I’m using past tense, because I feel like there’s no way back. It will take time for those emotions to ebb to the actual flow of the events.

It was fun, for awhile. But since I came back from Florida in March, when he came to my house and came as close to saying he loved me as he ever would, it’s been work. The enthusiasm is gone, the desire to just hang out isn’t there. For him it’s backed off to wanting an occasional “nice afternoon”. For me, it’s progressed to “I would have liked to spend Saturday night until Monday night with you this weekend.”

How’s that ever going to work?

It’s not. And I’m OK with it. I really am. Enough water has passed over the dam that my grip has loosened, I am not holding on any longer. I’m sure S’s grip is also loose, he maybe isn’t as clear on why as me, I hope he gains that clarity.

I hope we remain friends. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I wish him love and light. Always.

BEWARE

Beware Some People Will Sell You A Dream And Deliver A Nightmare

Beware of Those Who Play Their Cards Close to their Chest

Because they are lying to everyone. They only tell you so much, so they can manipulate your thinking about who they are. And then they go on to the next person, and only tell them so much, so they can manipulate that persons thinking just as they did yours.

I was a secret. No one knew about me. Oh, he told me they did, a long time ago. But I was never introduced. I never met his kids. I never met his friends. If they called while I was in the car he either didn’t mention me, or said he wasn’t alone, but never, that he was with me. How stupid could I be? After a year……

Meanwhile…I was falling in love with the person he coached me on. I was writing all the secretiveness off to “he’s just not ready yet…” making excuses for him. Like an idiot. Like a fool.

After all, he took me to his “special places”. Bullshit, special. Bullshit. They were just beautiful places that he knew, from living there forever. It was just part of setting me up to love him.

For 2 weeks I reminded him a 3 day weekend was coming up. I was met each time with, “It’s 2 weeks away…..” I reminded him my son would be gone, I’d have the house to myself. I had visions….hopes….dreams….

But what I got was….an offer to come here for an afternoon. And a lot of grief again, for wanting to plan ahead, to plan for more.

Last week we met and talked, I did not want to be friends with benefits. If that’s what he wanted then we should split up. If he doesn’t know what he wants, then he should figure it out, by himself, and if he wanted to, check in with me when he knew.

Yesterday after explaining and re-explaining it for 36 hours…that I was not interested in an afternoon. A “nice afternoon” as he put it. That was the offer. After 5 or 6 times of saying “Look either come for the night and the day tomorrow or don’t come….” He finally told me he had a “family BBQ” at his ex wife’s that night, and wanted to watch the Indy 500 on tv tomorrow.

As if he didn’t know this 3 days ago. After playing me all day and night and morning this morning, bitching at me for wanting to make plans, for never being satisfied, for trying to control things.  All the while withholding information so that he could manipulate and control me.

He’s been hiding this, trying to manipulate me into believing that I am too demanding,that I want too much, because I wanted to spend time with him.  He probably went to his “family BBQ” and played the poor guy who’s girlfriend of 13 years left him last January after he put in a new kitchen for her out of his own pocket, and then got married. Never let them know he was in the process of fucking over a woman who adored him.

Gee….I wonder how sick the girlfriend was of his games. Imagine 12 or 13 years of this.

Me…I only lost a year to him. Believing his lies to me about how he was open to whatever happened. He was open to whatever he managed to make happen, which was to pull me from someone who really loved me, just to do it, and then use me for his own pleasure. How often did we lay together, and the next morning he would tell me how I “scared” him, how he was afraid of the feelings he had for me, and how he didn’t want to be in love or in a relationship.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I loved him unconditionally. I made excuses for him every time. I made myself vulnerable. I put myself on the table, emotionally naked and brave, for him to use. Believing that he wouldn’t AB-use me. I was there on every dark day he had. When he had to have surgery, even though he’d fucked the prison whore 2 weeks before, I was there for him. When his best friend died, and he hadn’t talked to me in days, I was there for him.

Because I loved him.

Stupid stupid me.

He didn’t and wasn’t ever going to love me. He wasn’t man enough to walk away from me. He liked the attention. He liked the adoration. He liked my eagerness. He liked what I could do for him. Even though he couldn’t or wouldn’t do it for me.

I loved him anyway

Stupid stupid me.

Allowing myself to be a secret. Allowing someone to use my sexuality for their own pleasure, with no care about how he was using me.

One of these days I will stop beating myself up over being so stupid. But not for a few days.. I drowned my shame in a bottle of rum, last night.  Good rum.  Gosling’s Black Label.  There’s enough left for the rest of the weekend

Gonna try to forget what a foolish woman I am.

Beware of those men, and women, who hold their cards close to their chest. They are full of deceit. And they will hurt you.

Sweet Juice of the Grape

letting go

Sweet juice of the grape,

Mask my sorrow,

Hide my pain.

Keep it from cutting a hole in my heart.

I will bleed, if it is on the surface.

I will writhe in pain on my floor.

Sweet juice of the grape,

Drown the voices in my head

and the ones on the phone.

Keep me from racing to him,

begging him to take me just one more time.

Into that place from which I find such great joy

And then such great sorrow.

Sweet juice of the grape

Be my friend.

Be my solace.

Help me find a place

Where his blue eyes will not torment me.

Where his smile will not lure me.

Where I won’t find false comfort in his hands.

Empty my mind of all the memories

Empty my mind of the dreams

Empty my heart, empty my eyes,

Empty all of it, sweet juice of the grape,

Let me forget, for just one night

How I loved him.

How I love him still.

Always……

Learning to Love What Is

I’m trying to work some stuff out here.

I’ve got some kind of bug. My throat is a little sore causing some laryngitis, and my right eye is a little weepy. I have carpal tunnel in my right hand, arm, wrist, which has been acting up. And this morning, the fingers on my left hand are quite stiff and sore in the joints.

I’m a believer in the emotional component of all illness. I am quite rarely sick, this maybe the first time in a couple years. So I am looking at all the symptoms, with Louise Hay’s book by my side “You Can Heal Your Life”.

A sore throat has to do with holding in angry words and feeling unable to express yourself, the inability to speak up for one’s self, swallowed anger, stifled creativity and refusal to change. Issues with the throat in general have to do with expression, creativity.

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome has to do with frustration and anger at seeming injustices of life.

Arthritis has to do with feeling unloved, criticism and resentment.

Our hands and wrists have to do with the ease through which we move through change.

Eyes have to do with the capacity to see clearly. Eye problems have to do with not liking what you see in your own life.

I have had an ongoing issue with someone for the last couple of weeks. I wanted this person to do something that they were not comfortable with, quite simply. And I was pushing and they were resisting. It seemed a no brainer to me. Something that would have been fun, enjoyable…whatever. To them it was maybe those things, but maybe not. I can’t speak for them, only or myself.

So….as it turned out it came to a head last night. This person is not going to do this thing with me. I am going to do it alone.

I felt sorry for myself. I felt unloved. I criticized myself, feeling I wasn’t good enough. I also did not feel I was able to express myself fully, not on this subject, nor others with this person, because often I think that expressing what I really feel puts them under pressure. So I swallow it, and don’t say it, when I clearly want to.

This person refused to talk to me about it anymore last night, and cut me off from communication. I was angry, resentful.

Thus, all my symptoms.

Coincidentally, I have been reading Byron Katie’s “The Work” for our book club. And I put the 4 questions to only one of these problems, since it is a process taking time.

I realized that I have been stifling what I had to say about the situation. But I did that on purpose because I knew it would not come out with any loving intent, and I didn’t want to go there with this person. But you know what happens to the stuff you bury…..It makes you sick. Voila! I am sick.

I felt very unloved, and was beating myself up for being so pushy last night. I woke up with a very sore left hand. I am loved, even if not in the way I want to be, but by many others, and by this person as well. The person’s choice not to do this thing with me doesn’t reflect whether or not I am cared about by them, only that they were not comfortable with this particular thing.

But I railed against it, and how frustrating and unfair it was, and guess what, my carpal tunnel has been acting up all week.

I am not moving through changes easily, I am not accepting what is. My joints hurt.

And lastly, I don’t like what I’m seeing, and my right eye is bothering me.

Pretty clear, that the body follows the mind, isn’t it?

So…..doing The Work last night brought me to these conclusions. I don’t love myself. I am afraid of change. My thoughts are not creating a joyful and abundant life for me, but one of lack.

This is all about me, not about this person. It is not what they have done but about my reaction to what they feel. Like Byron Katie says, “Who would you be if you didn’t have that thought?”

I would be excited to do this thing on my own. I would share it, and the excitement, with this person, instead of putting the burden on them to create the excitement with me, and thus in some ways, for me. I would be happy I was doing it, whether or not I was alone.

I want to say maybe it’s meant to be, that I do it alone. Maybe there is a door opening there that I am too blind to see, or to fearful to want to walk through. But why? Because it is what it is. The reality is that I’m doing it alone, so I need to rejoice in that. I need to love what is. Why? Because it is what is happening, and it’s not something I can change. The universe doesn’t screw up, I have trusted it before to work things out for my highest good, and for this person’s. And so this must be it.

This person may join me in this at some point. They have said that. But they can’t right now, so I’ll forge ahead, and repeat to myself every minute that I can that I am loved, I love myself, I will create a joyful life, and I will accept the way life unfolds before me. By myself, I will do this, I will not burden another with these things.

I will walk through the fear I have of doing these things alone, and realize I am quite capable of enjoying them on my own. I’ll find my way.

Acceptance of what is is hard, until we actually realize we have no choice. So we can be mad about it, and ruin this moment, or we can accept it, and find some joy in it, and go forward happily.

I will choose the 2nd reaction. I’m sure it gets easier with practice.

It’s all a lesson in learning to live like water.

Stop the Ride! Please!

I keep thinking that I’ve figured out how to get off the merry-go-round.  You know, that feeling, that you’ve been going around and around and not getting anywhere.  Riding a horse that you can close your eyes and with a real good imagination believe it’s real for a moment. Ah, such bliss in that fake horse, for the short time that you make it real.  But, you open your eyes and there you are on a fake horse going nowhere.

Suddenly, you want off.  You have things to do, places to go, people to meet, a reality to deal with.  You just want off.  So, you dig in your heels and try to slow it down so you can get off with out smashing your face into the ground.  You ask the man who runs the throttle to please slow it down, so you can dismount.  But you’re dependent on his good nature, his time-table, you don’t know if the glint in his eye means he enjoys seeing people flying off the horses or if he has some compassion for those that need to leave.

I went to a gong bath Thursday night.  During an exceptional “white noise” tsunami, which is when the gong players play them so loud and hard that the sound and the vibrations absolutely don’t allow a thought, only emotions, I cried out, asking for resolution. I surrendered.  (It’s lovely when you cry out during a tsunami, no one hears you except God, or your inner self….).  I turned it over to the greater powers that be, to resolve how they saw fit, trusting that it would be in my best interest.

I was up all night (thus my poem, Sleepless).  Caused, as usual by expectations, attachment.  (OH Buddha, I can’t figure out how to not be attached. And not having expectations is hard….) I expected a certain outcome, which I thought was realistic, on Wednesday night.  Let’s just say, I was disappointed.  I was suddenly snapped back into the past, with old fears, old issues.

Thursday morning, I was on an emotional edge all day, it wouldn’t have taken much to push me into the abyss, a gentle push, maybe one little finger in the small of my back, as I peered over the edge and idly wondered what was at the bottom.  Of course, I remembered, later.  Grateful that I didn’t make the leap to find out what I already knew. It’s never good down there.

Back to surrender…..and the vibrational healing of the gongs.  I was subdued after the bath, I went home, I was in bed not long after.  I was exhausted, as if I’d been up for days, and carrying a heavy burden while I walked.  I lay down, sure I would pass out and of course, did not.  Until about 4 am.  I sobbed, I cried, i asked. I lay there numb. I got up and walked around, I sat by the window, I put on my meditation music over and over, changing the cd’s at 2 am.  I asked…please get me off this merry-go-round.  Trusting that it would be resolved to my highest good.  To everyone’s highest good.

So, come Friday, I had to go to work on 2 or 3 hours sleep.  Again, still, I had what I thought was a realistic expectation for Friday night.  But the offer I got, was a long way from the one I wanted.  My gut did a flip flop and screamed “NOOOOOO….” and so, I refused it.  Knowing that my gut is much more tied in to what’s better for my highest good than my mind, which toyed for a second or two with accepting far less than I wanted.  Because it would have given me a little pleasure to accept and then a lot of pain.

Listen to your gut, always listen to your gut.

Last night I discussed the offer….with the one who made it.  But I didn’t cry.  I didn’t even get mad or upset.  I’m not angry about it.  I’m disappointed but I am accepting the reality that it is what it is.  Reality.  And I guess this is the way the universe is working it out in my best interest.  So be it.  It seems that there is really no reason to accept less than I dream of, in this one life that I have.  (At least in this lifetime, I only have this one life….) It seems it is dishonest to my inner being to change myself to become what someone else needs.  (Which I know, I have done that before much more blatantly.)

Well, the story is not ended yet.  It isn’t quite over I guess.  I am willing to ride it out, to see where it goes.  But I’m not afraid and I think I have a more realistic expectation of the outcome.

But damn, I didn’t want to go to Florida alone.  Sigh……

Sleepless

Posted on May 8, 2015 by learning to live like water

Sleep evades me.

Only longing finds me.

I turn on the prism light

That he gave me.

The soft warm glow

Reminds me of the way I feel in his arms

Curled like spoons, his hands cupping my breast.

Feeling his man parts pressing against me.

His breath on my neck.

Longing. Painful longing.

I don’t know where I stand with him.

Fear rises in both of us.

Again, he is afraid he will love me.

I am afraid he will not.

Tears fall and splash on the page.

God, could I not have it easy for once in my life??

Could I not just love someone who could love me back fearlessly, fiercely?

I’m so tired.  Come sleep.

Put a blanket on my heart, cover my thoughts til the morning light.

Send me into the blissful emptiness of dreamless sleep.

I surrender. I cannot carry the burden of not knowing tonight.

Rescue me, sleep, from the endless nagging fear.

Be my friend.  Love me, sleep, close my eyes, quiet my mind.

Sleep, sweet sleep, like the one I long for, where are you?