Tag Archives: dating

Kissing Frogs

Posted on by learning to live like water

Dating sites are such a crapshoot. If you’ve never been on one, consider yourself lucky. The free sites are so full of scammers, it’s almost unbelievable. I have run into pineapple farmers in Ghana, people who tell me they were born and raised 20 miles from me, who can’t put together a sentence with proper syntax in English.

I’ve also met some real people. S, for one. K, the artist from long ago. Also a number of men who think they are in love with you after messaging for 2 days.

You think you’re gonna go on there, and start up a conversation with someone, and just see if you feel any sparks. Seems simple. I mean, why else is someone on a dating site?

But I find that there are more men (and I have to make this about men, because that’s all I see, so it’s my only experience, but I’m sure it’s the same from the other side) that will view your profile every day, I mean EVERY day….and never message you. Men who will send you a “flirt”, so you respond if you think you might be interested, and never hear from them again, (though often they still view your profile regularly). Or you find someone who seems perfect, with the same interests and a compatible personality type, and so you message them….and never hear back. You gotta wonder, why would they not at least check it out? And then there are men who seem perfect, but after you message them for a day or two, all they turn the conversation to sexual intimacy…..UGH. I always feel like this was a guy trying to suck someone in just to satisfy himself while you talked.

Shy? On a dating site you are anonymous until you choose not to be with someone, so that should help with shyness. Shouldn’t it?

So many are just duplicates of each other. They like “walks on the beach, dinner out, dinner in, cuddling in front of the fire.” They never give up any of who they are, in their profile. One man this morning said in his profile, “Who you are is what you do, right?” NOOOOooooo. It’s not.

Boring. Shallow. At least, to me.

Metaphorically speaking, it gets tedious, kissing frogs who remain frogs.

Still, I look. Still, I don’t know how else to meet men my age. I don’t think anymore that I won’t find someone without baggage. I don’t think you find yourself single at this age, and not have any baggage. It’s really a matter of finding someone whose baggage you can deal with, whose baggage is similar to yours, so you can work on it together. If you are divorced, or widowed, at this point in life, it has affected you, and to deny it is to deny your life experiences. Silly, unhealthy…..

I have a new friend I met online…which is nice. He lives close to me, we enjoy each other’s company. But he’s moving in the summer, a long way away. So….I can’t get too attached to him. I don’t want to open my heart too wide, because I don’t want to be in pain when he goes. I’ll have to be vigilant, to make sure that doesn’t happen. One heartbreak a year is enough. And really, I’m still pretty raw from the last one to get involved with someone yet.

But still I look. There’s a song by Crosby, Stills, and Nash called Southern Cross. The end of the song has this line: “Somebody fine will come along, make me forget about loving you, at the Southern Cross.” Hopeful. Still hopeful.

Islands in my Dreams, A Little Tease from the Universe

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

Winding Down

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

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.

“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.

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.