Scratching That Itch

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

With Love and Gratitude, Good bye.

Posted on by learning to live 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’m in Charge Now

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

Crack the Door, Crack the Mirror. Spread a LIttle Light.

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

“My Search For Love That Don’t Seem to Cease”

Posted on by learning to live like water

Looking for love in my 60’s is not an easy road. Although, it’s probably not an easy road ever. I have a friend who is 49 who is having as much trouble as me. We have both been involved with men who were completely wrong. Unhealthy.

I was involved with a man for about 8 months. We met online, while he was undergoing chemotherapy. I kind of felt like maybe he didn’t have anyone, so I just talked to him as a friend. When he was through it, and was actually cleared of the cancer, we met, and seemed to hit it off.

We had some passion, although it was mostly me having a passion for him, and him having a passion for enjoying my passion, lol. Eventually, he showed me his true colors….choosing one night to have sex with a 31 year old woman (he was 66) who was reporting to prison the next day who came onto him for whatever reason. He didn’t even know her. I had written a long blog about the pain that caused me, I took it down, it somehow seemed to raw to keep up.

He actually had the nerve to ask me, after that, if I would care for him after his hernia surgery next week. He said he had no one else to ask. And so I actually agreed, with the stipulation that we were just friends, there would be no intimacy again ever. I explained that he could stay at my house, in my spare bedroom. I would be there for him, but would not be sitting holding his hand for the 3 or 4 days he was here. I would be going about my life, while making sure he was ok, and fed, and comfortable. I spent one night sleepless, trying to balance my desire to be compassionate with this man that I loved, against the pain he caused me. Compassion usually wins with me, and it did. I got the time off from work that I needed.

He took the fact that I would not be sitting with him the whole time to mean I would ignore him. (?) He said he thought it would be a good opportunity for us to sit and talk. That I didn’t need to keep reminding him that there would be no intimacy. Eventually, he got mad about it, and decided to, get this, stay in a hotel after surgery. A hotel. Yeah.

I was furious. At myself, for getting involved with him again, even as a friend. At him, for the mind-fuck he put me through, wasting 24 hours of my time. Telling me he had no one else, trying to manipulate me back into his bed. It got ugly. I told him he was an asshole, to do this to me yet again. He called me the “c” word.

I blocked him without another word. From my phone, from my email. Done, just done.

One of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs has always been The Same Situation.  It’s short, and eloquent….and after this experience I was singing it in my head again, mostly the last part:

“Still I sent up my prayer, wondering who was there to hear
I said, “Send me somebody who’s strong and somewhat sincere”
With the millions of the lost and lonely ones
I called out to be released
Caught in my struggle for higher achievements
And my search for love that don’t seem to cease”

I went out with a male friend last night. We went out to dinner, then walked around the little shops in town, who were having a “First Friday” celebration in our little town. Then we came home and watched TV for awhile.

He is a nice man, and nice looking. Sweet, considerate. Opens the car door for me, helps me with my coat. Holds my arm as we walk on the icy sidewalks. We enjoy each other’s company. We snuggled mildly on the couch. We kissed goodnight but not passionately. But I feel no passion for him. We will never be more than friends. It’s ok, but I am still looking.

I just don’t know why it’s so hard. I don’t think I am just attracted to “bad boys” though my ex, and my last “boyfriend” (was he my boyfriend? I don’t know anymore….) were bad boys. I don’t want a bad boy. I want a man who has learned his lessons, and in his 60’s is somewhat settled in his life, is mature, is capable of loving deeply, though doesn’t jump into it without some thought. I like people who are outside the box. Who are creative, thoughtful, somewhat spiritual, whose cup is half-full all the time.

Where is he? My friend….I guess the reason I feel no passion is that he doesn’t seem to look below the surface at himself, or at least does not communicate it if he does. He asks very few questions, though will listen to me if I volunteer.  I don’t think he understands some of my somewhat “new age” passions….reiki, sound healing, metaphysics.

The man who screwed the prison whore, I felt a connection with, right away. Maybe it was our common experience of abuse. Maybe it was his constant introspection, though he usually came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worthy. His cup was always almost empty. I am the opposite. It was strange, a relationship that in retrospective was bound to fail. But still, I feel like I knew him in a past life. I still feel the connection.  I had hopes that we could be friends, without intimacy.  He is funny, interesting, unusual. But I guess it’s not possible.  I am concerned about his stay in the hotel, if in fact that’s what he does. But I won’t be contacting him to find out how he is. I won’t be in touch with him again.

I’m realizing that you can love someone, really care, but that it doesn’t mean that you can have them in your life. Not if you want a rich full life. We have to let go of things that no longer serve us, and for me, one of them was my relationship with him. It brought me no joy any longer, and a lot of pain.

I have a date with another man next week. He seems to have a lot in common with me, we have talked on the phone and ended up talking for a long time. That’s a good sign, but I’ve done that before, and ended up nowhere. I would so like to find someone creative, introspective, spiritual, who knows who he is and is grateful to be alive. And also capable of being passionate, still, even in his 60’s.

I will keep on keepin’ on. After a long marriage that began so passionately and ended so horribly….I have a burning desire to experience love, romantic love, with a man. I believe still, that love that lasts is possible.

Meanwhile, I’ll stay grateful for all that I have. My son, my family, my family of friends. A life that I love and is happy. I used to say, I believe he’s walking toward me. I still believe that. Just wish he’d hurry up.

The Day After Christmas (or Post-holiday ruminations)

Posted on by learning to live like water

It’s the day after Christmas. I am off of work til January 5, which is a nice long break for me. But I am feeling unsettled this morning. Kind of like, wow, what do I do now?

The weeks before Christmas are full of decorating the house, buying gifts, mailing gifts. And baking baking baking,lol. Dozens of cookies, a couple of cakes. Trying to spend time with the people I love too.

So this morning….I’m making a list of what I want to get done. First, I want to get to the gym, lol. And begin to work off some of those baked goods, lol. I have errands for the house I want to get done. I need to clean the house too! I mean, you know, the get in the corners, get that space behind the toilet that I always let go. I need to get a new lens for my kitchen light, I need to start to figure out how to replace the glass in my fireplace door that exploded last year. I need to order fuel oil, I need to try and figure out how to read my fuel oil gauge, I need to get two new tires for my car.

But….I don’t want to just stay busy. I am feeling a need to be creative.

I want to write. I want to work on the book I have not picked up in months. I’m in the editing stage, and not really enjoying that as much as writing. But I want to actually finish this someday. So it is something I need to get through. Maybe it will be one of those “your struggles make you strong” kind of things. But here I am, instead of editing, writing this blog.

I want to make some jewelry. I have so many many stones to wrap, so many things that are sitting in my bead cases waiting to be made.

I want to get to the ocean. Crazy, I’m sure some people think. It’s winter. But the sea is beautiful now. The beaches are empty, and the air is clear. The horizons are void of activity of boats, save the occasional commercial fisherman, or barge. No one plies the waters to Block Island or Montauk for pleasure in December. No, the only activity is the sea itself, teeming with life below the surface. The waves, the perpetual motion, on the surface. The surf pounding the shore in its beautiful rhythmic song.

The winter sea

The winter sea

The sea breeze grazes my cheek, it tosses my hair, bringing me to life with it’s scent. It is vast, and beautiful, and reminds me I am a teeny part of some grand design, and I am blessed, and calmed.

Sometimes I am lucky and get to go with someone who loves it as I do. It is a place we share, that is made even grander by the sharing. We scour the beach together, he finds me a pine cone, I find him a shell, he brings me nugget of quartz, smoothed and rounded by years of rolling in the sand, perfect for a pendant. Sometimes we find a lovely peace of sea glass, the more rounded and soft the edges, the longer it has been kept by the ocean, which now gives it up for our pleasure.

When we look to the sea, I think our dreams are similar, not the same. I look, toward what I call “The Places of My Dreams.” The beautiful islands, coves, beaches, harbors, that dot the New England Coast. One of the places of my dreams I know what it is like to make a crossing that might be hours long, on a blue blue sea on a blue blue day. His dreams, I don’t know. But he spent years living out there, out of sight of land, in the company of few men, and lots of water, and fish. He understands it better than I…he reads it better than I. But our love for it is probably equal.

So, this morning, I am unsettled. I don’t know where to begin, but begin I must. I think I may want to take a small break from HAVING to do things, run errands, clean house…..let me have a day to myself, to remember who I am, to do the things I love to do, not what I have to do. See if I can figure out what I want to accomplish in the New Year. And perhaps, come a little closer to being the person I want to be.

Writing is so cathartic for me. I think, that after I go to the gym, I will take the advice of my man- friend-lover and “Let it be”.  I’ll let the day unfold the way it will. And let love lead the way.  Do a little more learning to live like water.

Attachment, A Conundrum

Posted on by learning to live like water

Attachment.

“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

 

Buddhism teaches us that all suffering comes from attachment. Does that mean all attachment is bad?

 

I have been dating, a very odd experience at my age, to be unmarried at 63. It took me a long time to want to date after my divorce, (5 years), but here I am. One thing I’ve tried to do, because I think I am oh so spiritual, is not become attached to any of the men I have dated.

 

That sounds kind of cold, does it not? But I think…it is not. What I’ve tried to do, is be mindful. When I am with someone, to give them my undivided attention, and time. But over time, do I not think that I might get attached to someone? I don’t know.

 

The last man and I messaged for months. He was not well, I kept him company. Finally we met, and we hit it off…it was just wonderful. We spent the day at a park on our first date, an old estate, on Long Island Sound, and the only reason the date ended was because the park closed. I keep saying I was not getting attached, that I was only enjoying the time with him.

 

But…then I’d check my phone for an email, or text, all the time. I wanted to hear from him. Isn’t that attachment, to a degree? I’m trying to understand the difference. There was a lot of desire, but that’s not attachment. And here’s the thing.

 

When I’m alone, I am fine with it. I don’t need a man with me every second, every minute. I don’t need to wake up with him every day, or go to bed with him every night. But….if I found myself missing this man when he wasn’t here, what is that?

 

If attachment causes suffering, was I suffering because I missed him? It wasn’t unhealthy. It wasn’t the kind of missing him where I was crying, or upset, I just enjoyed his company. We laughed all the time. I don’t laugh much when I’m by myself. But I didn’t feel that I needed him, just wanted him around. Just wanted to hear from him.

 

So…I don’t think I was attached.  Or, was I?  Or the better question is, does it matter?

 

When the relationship went south after a few weeks of bliss, I was sad, that it went south. We discovered some differences that we, or at least I, could not reconcile. He was, apparently, happy to remain as good friends, and have sex, and not evolve as a couple. I was not. Does that mean I was attached? No….because it was easy then, to say, we have to let it be, there is too much distance between us. There was no emotion overriding that, no voices talking in my head saying things like “But you’ll be alone again!” “He might find someone else!” “What are you going to do with yourself?” “You’ll have to start all over again.”

 

None of that came up. I was present every moment. The good ones I enjoyed. I enjoyed the relationship until it was not good. And when it became “not good” I was still present, but able to say, “it’s not good, and it can’t be solved, so love and light….”

 

He didn’t take it well….sadly. I wanted to remain friends, but that wasn’t possible this time. Funny, two men I’ve had relationships with, albeit short ones, both of them stated how they did not want to have a relationship, or fall in love, and both have gotten nasty when it became evident we were not good together. Perhaps, that is attachment. They were attached to an outcome, even if we were not on the same page, knowingly. I was not. I may get a little attached to the man, but not the outcomes, never.

 

I think that’s what causes the suffering with attachment. We get attached to the idea that this is the one. And we get so attached, we don’t want to let go, even when it’s bad for us. Even when that attachment makes us cry every night. Because I’ve been there too. Attached to the outcome that my marriage would last forever, that we’d grow old together, even when it was ruining my health.

 

It can be the outcome of any other situation in your life. Maybe you feel you are going to live in the same house forever but something happens to make you have to leave it. You have to let go. Maybe you dream of your children growing up and living near you and seeing you all the time, but then one of them moves to California when you live in CT, and you have to let go.

 

To be attached to your kids, well…hey, we are human. Of course we are attached to our kids. But can we let them go? Can we let them evolve, under their own power, following their own dream, and let go of the outcome we dreamed about all our lives?

 

As far as attachment being bad, because it causes suffering….well…there’s a whole ‘nother blog.  There are those who would say that suffering is necessary, not good or bad.  Just necessary.  I am one of them.  I think suffering is perhaps the birthplace of growth.  One of my favorite quotes is from Kalil Gibran, “ ‘Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.’” 

 

If you love someone, and you lose them, or they die, it hurts.  For a long time.  You miss them in your life, you miss the closeness, the connection.  As long as you weren’t attached to the outcome, i.e. thinking they would be here forever, sure that you’d be together til old age, as long as you just miss them and hurt because you loved them….I think you’re ok. 

 

It’s the outcomes. If we can just stay with the moment, enjoying the good ones, working through the bad ones….and letting go when we need to, the amount of suffering we will experience will decrease exponentially. We need to learn to say….”Love and light, all blessings to you” and wave goodbye when that is what serves us or the other person

 

I guess that doing that, being able to do that, happens when we realize that joy comes from within us. That everything we need is within us. When we learn to trust the universe, to trust the flow of our good intentions, believe…just believe…that it will all turn out ok. Live like water…….

Living Through Fear

Posted on by learning to live like water

Ok, I had a quasi-relationship with someone for a few months. It wasn’t a love relationship, and it wasn’t really a friendship. It was something else, a connection, really undefineable. It started out as one thing, then ran into a wall, morphed into something else, and then, finally, kind of blew up in a fit of ego vs. truth. It was weird.

But dang, it’s just come to me how strange it can be to see all evidence of that person’s involvement in your life disappear. Comments, “likes” on posts, pictures, texts, emails, all kinds of interactions just disappear. Now…I didn’t really do much of that. I don’t really care that much whether or not I have an interaction with this person, but he has made it a point to make sure there is no sign of me.

Blocked my phone, my email, unfriended me, unliked my FB page. Whatever. I dislike doing that stuff, if a person isn’t bothering me, I just don’t do it. It’s part of my life, why try and delete it?

Well,I suppose that if a person’s MO is to run. To hide. To retreat. To bring the walls around him in, so that no one else can get in, it seems like a good idea. He might almost be able to convince himself that I never existed in his life, that I never taught him anything, that he gained nothing from it, and that all the stuff he projected onto me, all the kindnesses I extended to a seriously messed up person, were actually done with an ulterior motive to get something from him. Even tho I have more that he has, and not just material things. I have a life that I love, a job that I like, a beautiful home, a great kid, a loving family, a warm loving circle of friends. He has a sad story, and that’s about it. He can’t drive, having lost his license for 5 years. He has a home, which is paid for lucky for him. He can’t work, because he can’t drive, he has a few friends, a function of having grown up in the town he lives in. But nothing that would be a motive for me to do kind things in the hope of getting some of it.

Fear. I gotta say, fear. I have known two men who make every decision in their lives based on fear. Never on love. I gotta feel for both of them. So, while he decides that the reason I took him to an art museum was because I wanted something from him, undefined, I really just have to feel sorry for him, that he is unable to accept human kindness, and that usually comes from a place of not believing he deserves it.  He thinks it’s his gut talking.  But any time we come from a place of fear, you know it’s the ego.  My ex also didn’t believe he deserved it. He also believed every kindness was a manipulation.  He also lives his life from that place of fear, from his ego.

Whatever. If deleting, and running, and pretending that I was never there helps him get through the day, so be it. He won’t see a sign of me. But…I gotta wonder how he’s gonna delete the memories of the truth from his mind. Because you know….That shit that you bury, doesn’t die. It just festers, and rots and makes you sick. So much easier to view the world through the eyes of love, isn’t it?

He is an artist, he paints.  He had given me a painting, on the first night we met.  I loved it.  I had pointed it out as my favorite of the dozens of paintings in his house. Yesterday, I sent it back to him.  I could not have it hanging on my walls, much as I liked it, to remind me of all the accusations he lay on me because he just couldn’t accept kindness as kindness.  Bad energy, even from something beautiful. Because he had to project onto me all the fearful thoughts he has about himself.  I put a note with it, telling him I hope he finds someone to give it to that he can trust enough to accept their kindness.

I am not angry with him.  And, I am out of his life, at least as far as anyone can see.  The electronics age is so easy, put the button and delete.  Now, if he can just find a way to delete the memories, the truth that is embedded in them, he’ll be ok……

The Continuing Journey

Posted on by learning to live like water

The name of this blog is Learning to Live Like Water. Lately, I have been getting some real lessons in that. I suppose I should say, more real lessons.

When I left my abusive marriage, I spent 4 years trying to disentangle 32 years of my life from those things that had tied me to that relationship. I spent 2 years trying to free my son from it. In the end, he freed himself, he walked away from it, to my ever waiting open arms, with the clothes on his back to the promise of a better life. I spent 2 more years fighting for what was mine.

All during that time, I learned. I learned about stillness, and unconditional love, and connection, and energy. I realized that I had been learning all through the marriage, I learned that what doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger. Smarter. More resilient. Hopefully, more graceful, happier, more fulfilled. Grateful. I became grateful for all that had happened to me, because everything that happens to us brings us to where we are. I like where I am now. Therefore, I am grateful for the lessons.

I didn’t even consider dating for the first 5 years I was out. I was fighting the good fight, for one thing, and had no energy to give to a thought about dating. I was afraid too, with a little PTSD, about it. I knew that I had a ton of baggage, which I didn’t want to bring to another relationship. If I were ever to have another loving relationship, I wanted it to be healthy. Not bogged down with the past. I have this dream that a relationship that connects on a spiritual, emotional, and physical level is possible.

So, about a year ago, I finally signed on the dating sites, and began actively pursuing the dating. I have had dates, some interactions, I have made one really good friend, but nothing that really clicked on all three levels. I made a commitment to myself, that I would not settle for less. Not part of that connection, but all of it.

So, maybe I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. Maybe not. But the whole thing is a lesson in living like water. Trying to force it does not bring it into my life. I have found myself excited about people I’ve talked to on the phone, only to meet them and have no real connection. Or, in the case of my good friend, connections on some levels, but not on all levels. He is a blessing though, because he is the first man I have ever been able to discuss the whole thing with, and we have discussed our differences, we understand them, but still enjoy spending time together because we connect on many levels. We know what each other wants, we know each others boundaries. Neither of us asks for what the other cannot provide.

Our friendship has been a great lesson in learning to live like water. To learn to go with the flow, to move around the obstacles, to change form. To continue the journey back to source. And to find joy in the present moment, appreciating what we are given.

This morning, I have felt a letting go. Just a letting go of that attachment to the outcome of having a complete, full loving relationship. I am feeling space in my heart, where that attachment was, which is now space for some new blessing to fill. Not that I want a loving relationship any less, but the time is here to let go of driving it, trying to make it happen. I have put the energy out there. The universe has heard me, I know because one thing I learned in this never ending classroom of life, one thing I know for sure, is that the Universe always hears us. And then conspires to bring us what we want.

I have been so blessed in my life. I have really learned to “Let go, and let God.” In the battle for my son, I surrendered, and he walked to me, on his own. In the battle to reclaim my life, I surrendered, I followed my intuition, I listened. I let go when my gut told me, I held on when it directed me to. I got what was rightfully mine, despite the epic battle that was waged to keep it from me. Lao Tsu tells us

“The power of intuitive understanding will protect you from harm until the end of your days.” I know this to be true, beyond the possibility of doubt.

 Today, my gut says to let it go. My intuition is telling me that is what I need to do, should do. Not to give up the dream, but to surrender it to the Universe. It is a slightly fearful thing to do, but I have learned to trust that which I cannot see, the enormous energy around me that will bring me what I ask at the perfect time.

Always, always, learning a little more, a little more deeply, about living like water.

 “Nothing in the world is softer

and weaker than water.

But for attacking the hard, the unyielding,

Nothing can surpass it.

There is nothing like it.

The weak overcomes the strong;

the soft surpasses the hard.

In all the world, there is no one who does not know this,

but no one can master the practice.

Therefore the master remains

serene in the midst of sorrow;

evil cannot enter his heart,

Because he has given up helping,

he is people’s greatest help.

True words appear paradoxical.

– The 78th verse of The Tao.

On Being Alone

Posted on by learning to live like water

I have always been ok being alone. In fact, when I was first alone after I left my ex husband, it was a relief. Just a relief to have peace, just to know that the world had not tilted on its axis while I slept, that as things were when I went to bed, however messed up they were, they would be the same mess in the morning when I awoke. I relished it.

 

In the 7 years since, I have been ok with it. I was anxious for my son, when he still lived with his father. Then he moved in with me, and I was no longer alone. A few years later and he spends a lot of time away from home, and still does. With his friends, or girlfriends. I was once again alone a lot. Still it did not bother me. I have friends. I have people I can call, usually can coerce someone into doing something with me.

 

In the last 6 to 12 months though, I have begun to be sick of being alone. And wanting company other than that of my girlfriends. I am missing, yearning, for a connection with a man that is multi-faceted. Spiritual. Emotional. And physical. I’ve had some false starts. One that was physical with nothing else. One that was, and still is, spiritual, but not likely to advance into the other arenas. A fairly good number that never went anywhere.

 

So here I sit, 3 days before Christmas, alone. And pissed off about it. And wickedly sad about it. Idk. I am totally willing to be vulnerable. I am willing to say I love you, first. I am willing to make the first call. I am willing to put myself out there, not knowing what the outcome will be. Because how else will I ever become connected to anyone? How else can I have the door open to all the infinite possibilities if I am guarded?

 

A few years ago, I was at a gong bath meditation, which is something I do on a regular basis. At that particular one, deep into the meditation, I had a vision of a wall. I knew that it was the wall I’d built during my long abusive marriage. It was made of cinderblocks, and every hole in every cinderblock had a note in it, telling why I’d placed that block in the wall. Some slight, some hurt, some cruelty, that I wanted to protect myself from. So I used them to build a wall, consciously, so that I could not be hurt again. That wall had been up for a LONG time. At the gong bath, I realized that it was time to take it down. That it was now keeping people out, keeping life out, keeping me locked in the prison that had been created for me, by me. I wanted out. That night I began to take it down.

 

To take it down, requires forgiveness. Each insult, each hurt, each slight. With the help of some great teachers like Eckhard Tolle, Wayne Dyer, Marianne Williamson, Liz Gilbert and myriads more, I learned how to forgive. I learned it does not mean that what was done to me was ok. It just means that I no longer allow it to define and control me. That it no longer hurts me, so I can move forward again with my life.

 

The hardest one to forgive is yourself. I still have a good bit of residual guilt over my son, and not having protected him better. But I’m working on it, it’s getting better. Mostly, because he is growing into such a wonderful, compassionate, man of great character.

 

So, now….I am ready to invite someone into my life. To share it, to share theirs. To tell my secrets to, and to listen to theirs. Someone to support, to celebrate, to commiserate with. But there’s no one here. I keep saying, I know he’s walking toward me. I believe that. But it doesn’t always make the long nights in my beautiful home easy to pass.

 

And just so you know, I am grateful, so grateful for my home. For my life. For my son’s life. For all my blessings. I just want someone to share it with. I have so much joy, sometimes I think it’s enough for two.

 

So, I’m writing this to work through this sadness. I’ve had it on for a few days now, and I’m about as sick of feeling sad, as I am of not having someone in my life.

 

Maybe, this is part of this life, this incarnation’s lesson. Maybe I am supposed to learn to be happy alone.

 

Maybe it’s just not time yet. Maybe the Universe has just got something better in mind for me. Maybe it is saying Yes, you can have it just not right now.

 

I don’t know. I do know that I need to get busy living my life, and stop wanting what is not there now. Why is it that I can be so accepting of what is in the moment all the time, except in this one aspect of life? Why is it when I wake in the night, I find myself either angry or sad that there is no one beside me, keeping the other side of the bed warm? Why can’t I say to myself, “that’s the way it is now. It doesn’t mean it’s that way forever.”

 

I’m 62. I feel much younger. I am still quite capable of being fully sexual, and actually enjoy that. Yet, here I am, constantly alone.

 

Time for me to trust in the universe, yet again. Long ago I got a sign that everything would be ok, that it would all turn out ok. And it has, it really has. I need to surrender this to the universe, knowing that when you ask the universe will generally bring you what you want in the fastest way possible. It will come from somewhere I will never expect.

 

I have to let go of this, send it out to the universe, and get back to living a life that I love. I’ve got jewelry to make, a book to write, cleaning to do, projects and dreams to come up with and work out. And let the mystery man show up when he gets here. If he gets here. Or whatever it is the universe has in mind for me.

 

Sometimes the work is easy. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it should be easy and isn’t. Sometimes we think it shouldn’t be hard but it is. I don’t know what category this is. I just have to follow the path, I just have to go forward knowing that the universe will bring me that which I ask for.

Think I’ll go watch last season’s Downtown Abbey.