I booked tickets to go to Florida for a few days. Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Out of the deep freeze to sunny Florida for a few days of warmth. And while it is….it isn’t a pleasure trip.
My mom had a stroke last fall, massive, at the age of 93. And she lived through it, but cannot talk, read or write, which is hard enough. She needs full time care, which my older sister is lovingly giving her. But we all know Mom is ready to go. She eats little, sleeps a lot. She is still her pleasant happy self, as happy as she can be in the state she is in. I am happy that she is surrounded by people who love her.
Yesterday my sis texted me that she thought I should plan to head down there in a couple of weeks, so I can say goodbye, and see her again before she goes on that mysterious journey. I am going, of course.
I have known for some time that anytime I see her could be the last. I don’t feel like anything has been left unsaid with her, but of course, to get one more hug from her, to hear her say “I love you” one more time will be wonderful. (She can say “I love you” because she doesn’t have to think about it.) She is a wonderful mother, as loving and kind as you can imagine.
She is also a remarkable woman. Her own mother died when she was 4, in 1925. While her father traveled from town to town looking for work, she lived with a variety of aunts and uncles. She always said she missed her mother, but she never felt alone because she was part of such a large extended family. They were kind to her and her sister.
My mother went on to work her way through college, got a degree in economics, and met and married my father, to whom she was married for 45 years, until he died when he was 68.
While she and my father gave me and my sisters many gifts…of the intangible kind….the greatest gift they gave us was the gift of unconditional love. Both of them loved us without condition. Neither my sisters or I ever went to bed wonderingst if our parents loved us. Love ruled our house. We took it for granted, which is how it should be. No child should ever question whether his parents love him. Every child should be loved by their family just because they exist.
This is how a child learns that they have intrinsic value, just because they are. It is their rock to stand on, it empowers them for life. It allows them to set boundaries on how they are treated. If someone treats them badly, they don’t believe they deserve it. They know it’s wrong. They also learn that every life has value.
I have known, intimately, a couple of people who grew up without this. Their road is so much harder. They can find it, they can eventually come to the conclusion that they DO have value, but the journey there is harder, longer, generally more fraught with pitfalls and potholes.
As I go on this journey to Florida, I will try somehow to let my mother know that I know. That I also love her unconditionally because she exists. And that I am so, ever so grateful, that she was my mother in this lifetime. Of all the blessings I have been given, and they are many, this is one of my greatest.
Go in peace Mom, whenever you are ready. I know you will never be far from me. We’ll meet up again, in that place where there is no time and space.
I love you.
I was on a dating site last night. I don’t know how else to meet men my age. There are scammers, and crazies, but every once in a while there is someone real. I think I was on the site, just to take my mind off of the ugly way in which the relationship with S ended. And end it did. I am relieved, glad, happy not to hear from him again. Glad to feel free to move on, with no left over emotions, no regrets, but with real recognition that it was a toxic relationship for me.
But I digress.
I was on the quickmatch thing, where you see a person’s pictures and profile, and click yes or no. Generally, this site gives me a few that are geographically acceptable and a lot that are over 100 miles away. A little too far to say, catch a movie at the last minute. I don’t understand why they show me those profiles, when my parameters are set to 50 miles from my home. (As a friend says, they are GUD – geographically undesirable, lol.) This site also rates their compatibility by percentage, based on your and their answers to what could be 100’s of questions.
But whatever. Last night I was just kind of future tripping, sitting in front of the TV, while it snowed yet again here in CT. It was just fun, reading profiles, checking out answers, etc. Just getting back into the dating mood.
Then, like a joke, it showed me two men back to back, that were perfect. 94% and 98% compatibility. Both were creative types, grounded, laid back, happy. And why shouldn’t they be. 94% lived in Vineyard Haven on Martha’s Vineyard. It’s one of my favorite places.
I should interject here, that I used to cruise the New England coast with my ex in our 41′ boat. The Vineyard was a regular destination each summer. It’s just beautiful. I have a print of Menemsha, a fishing village on the Vineyard, on my family room wall, beside one of New London Harbor which is my home port.
Needless to say, I stopped on that profile. Now…the Vineyard is a good 4 hours from here, by car and ferry. Absolutely not a possibility for a relationship in reality. But I did a bit of daydreaming about this man and being on the Vineyard with him. One of my best friends husbands grew up on the Vineyard, (he is also a close friend) and one year we met them up there, and they drove us around the island, to Gay Head, Menemsha, other beautiful spots.
He was definitely my type. Nice looking, laid back, creative, a warm smile. Looked quite capable of loving a woman. I sent him a message and told him I wished the Vineyard was closer, and that I was sure he was going to make some woman quite happy.
Then I sadly clicked no….
The next match popped up and it was the 98% match. Another creative laid back type, and he lived in Siasconset, on Nantucket. If there is anywhere I love more than the Vineyard, it’s Nantucket. At first I was like, WTF, dating site?? Why are you teasing me with these profiles, so perfect and so far away. But I did a little remembering and daydreaming again.
Nantucket was another place we visited fairly regularly in the boat. The village of Nantucket is quaint, with cobblestone streets and gas lamps. One year when we went we rented a jeep and drove all over the island, to the villages of Madaket, Surfside, Miacomet and Siasconset, which is better known as ‘Sconset. Sconset is where Ahab’s wife lived, in Sena Jeter Naslund’s book “Ahab’s Wife”, my all-time favorite book. Probably my favorite because a lot of it takes place there. ‘Sconset looks east, to the vast Atlantic. It’s like another world. I sent 98% a message similar to the one I sent 94%, how lucky he was to live there, and I hoped he found a wonderful woman to share his life with.
I don’t know why I sent the messages, but it was lovely to have a small daydream about some of my favorite places on earth. I call them “places of my dreams”. I hunger to go back there some day. To be out in the middle of the ocean, on solid ground, and breathe the salt air, feel the sea breezes. God, I miss it.
Sigh. Back in reality, here in CT, sitting comfortably cozy while another snowstorm makes it’s mark, I was happy. Just to be reminded that there is beauty out there, waiting for me.
The universe was teasing me, for sure. Teasing me into remembering all the possibilities, as ugly memories fade away into oblivion. I am grateful.
It’s snowing again. I live in New England, Connecticut to be exact. And it’s snowed a lot this winter, like well in excess of 4 ft. And been cold. And most of us, even those who usually like a little snow…are sick of dealing with it. But I’m glad this one is on a weekend. I was out with a friend, drove home in it. It wasn’t too bad. But when I got home, I sat down with a glass of wine, found a movie on TV, booted up the computer, and made some popcorn.
It seems a little weird, but I’m one of the people who bitches the most loudly about how much I hate winter. Right now…I feel all comfy cozy, happy, relaxed, relieved to be home. Happy to be happy.
All the stuff with the old relationship is somehow unimportant today. That’s a huge relief. Really. I’m very ready to be done with it and moving on.
I’m about to make myself some spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I will have another glass of wine with it. I will worry slightly about my son driving home from work in this, but it’s not going to be that bad, I’m sure he will be ok. Maybe I’ll watch last week’s episode of Downton Abbey or State of Affairs, or something else. I look forward to getting into a bed with clean sheets, reading a little.
Glad to have the drama over with. Glad to be moving on. Relieved to know I won’t be getting middle-of-the-night texts telling me he hates me or is sorry or whatever. Glad for the silence. The sanity. Not missing the mind-fuck.
Sleep will be nice. I will wake up fresh, and free and happy and grateful for the constant warmth and love of friends and family. Life is good.
Ah. Winding down. Friday night. Was supposed to go to a gong bath, but they canceled it. It’s rare that they ever cancel one, but it’s about 5° out, wind chill in the ungodly sub-zero’s. Which would mean all the equipment would have to be hauled out and loaded in the truck, and then unloaded at the church, then reloaded after. 8 gongs, and their stands and the bowls and the drums, and hell, I wouldn’t want to do it either.
But dang I was looking forward to it. At last weeks gong bath, I was able to begin to really process all my emotions regarding S. I had not been to a gong bath since “it” happened. Funny it seems ages ago, but it’s only been about a month I guess. Maybe 5 weeks. Seems so much longer. But in the end, I knew the road I had to travel. So I was looking forward to this week, to continuing this journey, to finding my center even more clearly defined.
It has been difficult for me, and for him. For different reasons. For me, because even though I knew I needed to break it off, that it was not healthy for me to be prolonging the final ending of this relationship, I still loved the guy, I had pretty deep feelings, I missed him like crazy, I wanted his energy around me. Didn’t want to let go. Still wish I hadn’t had to, completely.
For him…idk. I can’t really speak for him. I know he enjoyed flirting with me, I know he enjoyed our intimate conversations, I know he enjoyed my fearless outspokenness. We both enjoyed the other’s honesty. I know he enjoyed our physical relationship, and so did I and we will both miss that.
But you know, it needed to grow, to evolve. It was time. I was all for the evolution of it. He was not. So he did what he did in large part, to end it rather than evolve with me. And even then…he did not end it right away. But now…I see…it’s ended. It went round about. My emotions went up and down and on and off, until the gong bath last week, when they pretty much went to the off side. We talked, since. But when he began his flirting with heavy sexual content, I asked him to stop. And again. And again.
Because I don’t want to go there again. And really…it still hurts me, to think about what happened. Maybe some day I can joke about it. But now, right now, it is still raw. I wanted the evolution. I didn’t want the break-up. It hurts still.
I wonder why someone would want to stay in the same place…especially at this age. Why would you want to grow old alone? Face all your nights alone, and with whatever advanced age brings you. Why would you not want to be with someone who understands you, gets you, loves you, enjoys you, someone who will sit with you through your pain, and celebrate with you your triumphs. Why not be with someone with whom you can learn to play each other’s bodies like a fine instrument?
A one night stand will never get you those things. Strange will always be strange. It will never be comfortable, close, loving. It might be exciting for a few minutes. A partner can be exciting forever.
I don’t get it. I really don’t.
But…I do accept it. I accept that S doesn’t see it the same way, and he needs to follow his heart, like I told him. And I need to follow mine. I accept that he doesn’t want to talk to me, or be part of my life in another capacity. At least, at the moment. I accept that our roads have diverged. I’m not crying over it. I’m really ok with it. I have no regrets.
I went on a date last night, with a man a bit older than me. On paper we had a lot in common. Creative, love the water, boats, cruising. But there were no sparks. We met for coffee. Then he invited me to dinner. We talked, it was interesting, pleasant, but there won’t be another date.
No connection. With S…there was connection before we even met. I guess that’s why I couldn’t quite envision not having him in my life at all. But whatever, it’s not my call. I made my position quite clear, in my never to be subtle way, that I wanted him in my life, but that we needed to redefine our relationship, set new parameters. He was not so clear, but his actions said he only wanted it as it was.
I have to remember that all relationships are fluid, constantly moving, changing. We are all moving like water, in our own way, around obstacles, over the rough spots smoothing them out, breaking through the dams of our emotions. Who knows what’s next for any of us?
Just, livin’ like water. Getting back to source.
I don’t know. I just don’t.
S (the man I just ended it with) is like an itch I can’t scratch. I am committed to not having sex with him. I am committed to continue my search for a man who can love me as I love him.
But I can’t seem to let S quite go, like I don’t want to. I want to talk to him, mostly text with him, during the day. Apparently. Because we texted a lot yesterday. Not really about anything in particular. Just banter. Just conversation. No intent, really, except to stay in touch.
My question is why? I don’t know. I can’t seem to break this connection, and I don’t want to. I enjoy him, he’s still funny, still smart, still interesting. Still has this slightly skewed view of the world that makes me look at it differently at times. Some of it is shocking and abhorrent to me, some of it is interesting and opens my head. But he doesn’t insist I accept his point of view, he just offers it.
Yesterday I told him he was like an itch I can’t scratch. In typical S fashion he says, “I have a special tool for that.” Which caused at first, a smile on my face because it was so typically unashamedly S. Then I said, “Yeah, and it causes me a lot of trouble. I think not.” Or something similar. He didn’t respond. I said, “Besides you will loan it to anyone who has an itch.” He took his time responding, and said, “I’m a humanitarian.”
No apology for who he is. No excuses. Which I find refreshing. And honest. And painful. What? In the same sentence? I responded after a bit, “I’d call it something else.” Because when push comes to shove I can’t let go of what he’s done, I can’t accept the hurt he caused me. Yet. But I don’t want to piss him off. ??? After a bit he texted “?” I did not answer.
The something else I’d call it is man-whore. Just like I’d call a woman who spread her legs for anyone who wanted it a whore, I would call a man who puts it in any vagina that asks a man-whore. I don’t know what else to call it. I didn’t say it to him…because it sounds mean-spirited. And I don’t want to be mean-spirited with him.
I also don’t know how to accept it, that he’s that way. He’s also self centered, narcissistic, as he himself told me (and I chose to ignore). Sex with him is mostly all about him and his pleasure. Which is another reason, up there with the fact that he will loan his tool to anyone who wants it, that I won’t have sex with him anymore.
But I still like him. I guess, I love him in a whole other way.
I was listening to Marianne Williamson’s live stream of her Monday night talk on ACIM last night. And she happened to be talking about relationships. How those people who just have sex, are seeking connection, but that the ego tells them that connection of the physical body is connection, when the truth is, just having sex with someone, with no other connection, is really all about maintaining separateness. It’s the ego’s way of making you believe you are connected, but not being.
I have said so many times that the best sex is when at the end, you don’t know where you end and your partner begins. That connection, that becoming one thing energetically lifts the physical into a whole other realm. It has happened to me…not enough! I also realize now that one person in a couple can feel it, and not the other. I can know that my partner and I are one thing, one blended energy, not separate. But he may not. He may still believe us to be two separate people.
In fact, that’s how it’s been with the two men I’ve felt it with. I incorrectly believed if I felt it, they must or how could I? But it’s not true. I can feel it, because it is the grand, omnipresent truth, that we are all one thing, and I can feel it at this personal level of two people’s energy blending intimately. That our energies have blended and we are one thing. But that doesn’t mean my partner will feel it.
So…I want to find someone who is capable of going there with me. Because I’ve had the purely physical, and it doesn’t compare to the physical and energetic combining of two people. It just doesn’t.
When that happens, I am sure I would never have to question my partner. I would know he didn’t want to loan his tool to just anyone. That he would want to only have sex that could go there.
Before I met S, it had been about 12 years since I had real sex with someone. A couple of false starts that never came to fruition. But he and I are looking for different things. He has only felt safe, he says, when he depends only on himself. Separateness.
I feel safe because I know I am not separate, that I am part of one thing, one huge energy that includes us all. I also can shut my ego up most of the time, when it begins to advocate separateness to me. Because that’s lonely, it’s sad, and it’s not real. No matter what the ego says, you can’t separate yourself from the one thing. Not really.
But I need to be with a man who knows this.
In the meantime, I love S. I enjoy this man, who teaches me without trying. I have learned about the struggle of those who grow up without unconditional love in their lives. I am not going to be another one of those people to him. I am thinking that I can continue to love and adore this man, without being physically involved with him. And I can at the same time find someone who wants that physical and energetic connection.
Still searching, still trying to find my way back to source. Living like water.
So I broke it off with him. I spent the night with him the night before he went in the hospital. I was scared. I was allowing myself to love him, setting myself up for hurt again, at some point. But I didn’t let it stop me. I thought about how I wanted to be there for him. I wanted him to have a nice memory to think of and wake up to when he came out of the anesthesia. I wanted him to know that someone cared how he was, and whether or not he hurt, or felt alone. I wanted that. I loved him. I loved him whole heartedly, without consideration of what he had done. It was true and honest and I don’t regret it.
The two days he was at the hospital, I worried over him. He didn’t get me the patient code as he’d promised, so I had to go through roundabout ways to find out if he was ok, or spending the night, or released. People I worked with didn’t understand why I cared so much. Hell, I didn’t understand. But I did. That’s all. I did. So I talked to him that night, and the next morning. He was in so much pain. I would have liked to just be there, sitting beside him. Just so he didn’t have to open his eyes and be alone.
But that wasn’t the way it was. There was too much water under the dam. I was going to take the time off from work, but he chose to go it alone. As he always does. I was afraid, anyway, to be so close to him. Because I still loved him, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did not feel the same.
But then, what he thinks of me is none of my business. Right? I don’t know if it’s smart to allow myself to be so vulnerable. But I did, it’s done. I don’t think I regret it, because I gave it everything. It was his to accept or deny. He chose denial in the end. Why? I have my theories. But only he knows, somewhere in his soul, why he didn’t want the woman who loved him.
But then the gong bath happened…
And the next morning I woke up and didn’t care that much. I still cared, but not the same way. It was not visceral, it was not that intense, heavy kind of caring. I think it came together for me as a result of the gong bath. Suddenly, I knew he would never love me, that if I stayed with him, I would be repeatedly hurt by him. It is not his fault…it is mine, I stayed knowing he and I were not compatible on many things. One of them is our views on sex, and monogamy. And there were other things…which are none of anyone else’s business, personal things that he and I could not come to common ground on that I kept pushing into the background, because I loved him. But eventually, they would have surfaced, you know…those things you bury don’t die….they rot and fester and make you sick. In a relationship, they make the relationship sick. They cause resentment, and anger, and feelings of rejection, and loss of self esteem. I knew that would happen.
Trouble was, he was still in a lot of pain on Friday. I didn’t want to talk to him about it. Not until he felt better. We talked, I tried to be my same loving self, but I know the difference in how I felt showed through the phone lines. The next day he asked, what exactly is going on with you.
He knew. We have always communicated on a nonverbal plane when we are apart. He knew. Thus began a long and hard conversation. It was still too early to have it, but he knew,and I couldn’t lie. Or pretend it was different. I told him, I still love you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you.
And so, now, after 36 hours of texting, questions, accusations and then an attempt to see me to say good bye, we are done. I was not ready to see him. I don’t think I’m in love with him, but there is still hurt and rejection over the betrayal. Seeing him is painful. I told him, not yet. Maybe later. He got mad. I’m sorry he got mad. I’m sorry I couldn’t just see him and wish him well. But truth is…the wound has healed enough for me to see clearly, but it still hurts. The way an incision hurts under the surface for a longtime. I know we are mis-matched, and I know neither of us would ever be happy going forward. I don’t believe I could ever quite let go of his betrayal if I stayed with him. It would come back every time I felt threatened, every time he flirted with a waitress, or the girl behind the counter at the drug store. I would have made him miserable, and I would have been too. I told him, the prison whore sunk our ship, at the end of the day.
I will miss him. I will miss his flirty, sexual innuendo’d texts. I will miss having him in my life, kind of having a “significant other” after all the years of being alone. I will miss our excursions. Sunday afternoon naps. His wild and crazy stories of his youth. His hands. His passion.
But I won’t miss that feeling in the pit of my stomach when I don’t know where he is. I won’t miss the questions, I won’t miss the distrust that is now there permanently.
Done. Gonna take some time off. Let the wound heal, so that it’s not even tender before I meet the next guy. I don’t want to bring baggage into a new relationship, just like I took off years before I started this one, to try not to bring baggage from my marriage to it. And still, the baggage was there. There is relationship baggage you don’t know about until you are in a relationship, I found out. It wasn’t easy, this first one. But it was fun. It created growth in me. And I know myself much better. I know what I want better today than before I met him.
So…I thank him, I love him. We are done. May we both continue our journey back to source.
I do this thing, twice a month, known as a gong meditation. I have been going to them for about 5 years. They crossed my path in during my divorce, which was then in its third year. I was waiting for a date when the Supreme Court of my state would hear my case.
They used to hold the gong meditation at the gym I attended. My friend and I were leaving one Sunday afternoon and they were setting it up in the room where they hold classes like pilates and zumba. We wandered in and the group of people setting them up came over and greeted us. We asked about it.
It is a meditation experience. It lasts from 1 to 2 hours. You lay on the floor, on something comfy, and they play gongs, crystal bowls, tibetan bowls, various drums, rainsticks, bells. The sound can become very intense, it can fill the room like a glass fills with water, and then it can become very quiet. The intense sound we call Tsunami’s. It is so loud that you can scream, or sob and no one will be the wiser. But it can’t hurt your ears. I don’t know why….I think because of the vibrations being so organic.
The point of it is this. The gongs vibrate at the same rate as the human body. They don’t go around you, like many vibrations. They go through you. And they do their magic, where it is needed. Any thought, or belief you are holding onto that is not based in reality has very little chance of holding on during a tsunami. It is the perfect, safe environment to let your emotions bubble up, and let things go. I have done more healing there than any other single place.
Sometimes they are profound experiences. One night, I found myself in front of a wall made of cinderblocks. In each hole in the cinderblock was a piece of paper. And on the paper was written a reason, explaining why that particular block was put in the wall. Every slight, every hurtful comment, every lie, and manipulation, very injustice ever laid upon me, had its place in the wall. It was a wall I had built, purposefully, during my marriage, and the divorce. The wall was meant to keep anyone from hurting me again.
And it worked. I was able to extract myself from that abusive marriage. I was able to keep my wits about me, and help my son to escape it also. I was able to testify during my trial for a day and a half, and keep my head, not be emotional, and tell my story. And to sit in the auspicious Supreme Court as the justices questioned my attorney and my ex’s. And to know, by the questions that were asked, that I would win.
But that night, I realized that the wall had served its purpose, and that now……instead of keeping hurt out, it was keeping me a prisoner behind it. No one could hurt me anymore,but no one could reach me either. It was time to take the wall down. I began to take it down, one block by one block. I don’t know that it is completely down today….but would have to say, by and large the anger and pain I was holding onto in that wall has been forgiven and put behind me.
Another night, I saw my ex and I flying around. I had been struggling with letting go, of him, and all the dreams, and plans of a 32 year marriage, a 40 year relationship. We flew around, we waved to each other. “Good luck, have a nice life! Maybe I’ll see you, and maybe I won’t”, we called to each other. And then I flew in one direction, he in another, and we were alone, without each other, and happy, and I had let him go.
Another night, I saw myself, lying on the floor. And four entities, I don’t know what they were, were hovering over me. Protecting me. From what I am not sure, but I’m sure they knew, and that I needed them. When it was over, as I lay there trying to work my way back to the room I was in, out of the meditative state, the facilitators who are good friends of mine by now, began to talk about how the gongs can thin the veil, and allow spirits into the room. They knew nothing of my experience but I knew that it was verification of what I saw hovering over me.
Tonight I went. I didn’t know what I wanted to work on. The man who hurt me so badly by having sex with the stranger was on my mind, a lot. I have been talking to him. I miss him, his funny intelligent self-deprecating nature. I have always enjoyed his company. But I am full of mixed emotions. First it was rage, then pain, and now, it’s mostly fear. He has been in the hospital the last 2 days, having surgery to repair a hernia operation. I have offered to do whatever he needs done. I try to remember that I don’t have to like someone to show compassion. Of course….I do like him. A lot. So that part is easy. But I am scared shitless of being hurt again. So, fear. I have lots of it.
I went into the gong bath, as we call it. Bathing in the vibrations of the gongs….There are 8 gongs. I had the intention just to try to get deep enough to sort out my emotions regarding this man, what he did, and our relationship, where it should go from here. Love. First of all. Love. I think I love him, in more than the unconditional way. But so what? If I am subject to being hurt like that again. Then I remembered the rage…I remembered it, but didn’t feel it. I have let that fire burn out. The hurt, well….I still feel it, though it is not nearly so raw these days.
But my solar plexus and my sacral chakras both felt like there was a ball of something unpleasant in them. Fear. My heart wants to love this man, my head tells me I’m a fool. I am much more inclined to follow my heart than my head. But my gut…well,not happy with any of it. Fear.
I heard Elizabeth Gilbert talk the other day, about how when she was in India on her Pray part of her Eat, Pray, Love journey, she went to an island by herself for 10 days, and battled with all the voices in her head. Crying, screaming. She told them all, guilt, shame, pain, anger, love, joy, “look, we all have to find a way to work together. So from now on….I’m in the drivers seat. I love you all, you are all a part of me. You all have a place in me. But I’m in charge now.”
And that’s where I was at the end of the meditation tonight. Fear, hurt, anger, love, shame, …listen you all. I’m in charge now. The fear will keep me cautious. The love will keep me compassionate. The hurt and anger and shame….will remind me not to become too vulnerable to someone who has not earned my trust. Maybe he can earn my trust back, maybe he doesn’t really want to. It remains to be seen. But……
I’m in charge now.
I have heard it said, from so many great spiritual teachers, that when we rage at someone, we are only raging at ourselves. That we see in the other person, that which we dislike about ourselves. Or that which we fear in ourselves.
I have done this myself. Gotten so angry at someone, because I read into their words something they didn’t mean to say. I have answered questions that weren’t asked, and not answered the one that was, because I projected, based on my own demons or ego, what I thought they really wanted to know.
And people have done that to me. They have taken my good intentions and twisted them into something ugly. They have inserted their own guilt, or fear, into what I say to make it mean something hurtful to them. And raged at me for it
Generally speaking, when one person rages at another, I am pretty sure it usually ends up with two egos battling, and two people angry with each other. A ruptured relationship. I am guilty of this, as I have defended myself against the untrue projections. And people have defended themselves to me, against my false accusations.
Imagine, for example, you offer your help to someone who asks, but at the same time, lay down boundaries which are necessary for you to maintain your equilibrium. The person, who had other ideas about the form your help would take, becomes angry at your boundaries, and interprets them as being put there to hurt them. While in reality, they are put there for your own safety, so you can continue on with your life while helping them.
This happened to me…..which obviously I am trying to work out by writing this essay.
It got ugly….there are more details in my last blog. But the fact is, 4 or 5 days later, I am still concerned about this person. I blocked him on my phone, on my email. Because of the ugliness. But I began to worry, about the ordeal he faces, and just wanted to know he was ok, with what he had to do, with the arrangements he made. I didn’t want to start up with him again, or even have a conversation. But I could not sleep wondering if he was ok, and knowing that I’d cut off all access to reach me.
So what is that? It’s unconditional love. This person has hurt me, but I see now that he has hurt himself more, that he lost much more than me from his actions. I forgive him, and move on. Because I know that holding onto pain and anger is like taking poison and thinking the other guy is gonna die. It’s a lesson I learned well going through an ugly, contentious, 4 year divorce. In order for me to move on, I had to forgive my ex for all the ills he had attempted to do to me. Because holding on to the hate, pain and anger, gave my ex control still. I knew he didn’t know better, I knew that it was his own fear, and feelings of inadequacy that caused him to do those things. And I also learned that our thoughts become things. All the ills he wished on me, were what manifested for him. It is sad, just sad, to see this happen to someone you loved.
So it is the same now. I see that this man believes he is not worthy of unconditional love. He believes he is being punished by forces greater than himself. He lashes out, because he listens to the voice he thinks is protecting him, when in fact it is the voice that is leading him to harm. It leads him to being alone, thinking he needs no one. That he is separate from the whole. When in reality, we are all one thing, and need each other.
Now that the anger has subsided over the projections, and nastiness, and I have allowed my spirit to once again take over, and feel the unconditional love for him that I try to extend where ever I go….I feel for him. I feel for his inner child, I see his soul and the struggle it has to be heard, to be allowed to shine, to remove the layers of darkness that lie over it. Last night I could not sleep, because I knew I had shut a door that needed to be cracked open. It actually made my stomach hurt.
During my divorce, in the early days, my son was living with my abusive and controlling ex. My ex conspired with my son, all kinds of things that hurt me, one of which was to cut off my ability to communicate with my son. I used to go knock on the door of my old house, the place I’d lived for 30 years, and just beg my son to come out and hug me. Because I knew, somehow through the grace of God, that my son needed to know I was still standing no matter what he did to me. That I still loved him unconditionally just because he existed. Eventually, he understood, and walked away from his abusive and controlling father to my door, with the clothes on his back. Because he knew.
It was then, that I learned the overwhelming power of unconditional love.
So, I sent this man a text after unblocking him, and told him I just need to know if he’s ok. I think I wanted him to know that I still care…that no matter what he throws at me, I will still be standing. I don’t want to be his lover, but I want him to know that I can live what I preach, that I can walk the walk at the end of the day. I also want to know that for myself.
Unconditional love means just that…it’s unconditional. We cannot pick and choose those we love. We have to love everyone. Probably especially those our egos feel least deserve it.
So….my intention was not to be a mirror to him. But I know I was, we are all mirrors for each other, whether intentionally or not. It’s the way it works. I know he didn’t like what he saw, and that his ego took over and projected all his fear onto me, and my motives. And I know he hurts, he knows somewhere that he read me wrong. A little bit at a time, I hope he can begin to believe that he is worthy of love, and….that he doesn’t have to earn it. That it is his because he exists.
Living like water means that we find a way to get back to source. So that’s what I’ve done. I have found a way to get back to source and extend love where it is needed. I know that most people would not understand. But this morning, my soul feels free, I am satisfied that I did the right thing, cracking open that door for a little light to shine through. A Course in Miracles says that a miracle is a change in perception from fear to love. I hope I have helped to start that process. I hope I cracked his mirror a little too. Cracked the door, cracked the mirror. Spread a little light where it was needed.