Tag Archives: love

Just Let the Joy Be

Posted on by learning to live like water

It’s been a few days since I’ve written anything. I had to work late all week, not only to catch up from my few days off, but because I was covering someone else who was gone. I haven’t even unpacked yet from my trip.

I have been happy. Happy with my decision to be with S. His actions, his behavior, backs up what he told me he feels. Yeah, I’m vulnerable. Just thinking that to feel this happy….. and to stay in the moment with him…is not something I have done lightly, but I have followed my heart, my gut. It’s not like a trade off, I don’t think that eventually he’ll hurt me again and I’m not wondering will this current happiness be worth that pain. No…really, I think we are both evolving and presently our evolution is parallel. He learned something about himself, and I know he is truly sorry for the pain it caused me for him to learn that way.

The one thing that I’ve always appreciated about him is his honesty. He will tell me the truth, he will remain true to himself even if it hurts me. After living with someone for many years who was a pathological liar, I would so much rather have the brutal truth than a pretty lie. Any day. This he gives to me. He has now told me the whole truth….about the incident. While the thinking that led to it would be to most of us convoluted, I can understand, knowing him, how he arrived there, and for a few moments it seemed to be the only way for him to know what he wanted to find out. He realized within minutes it was wrong, and what the truth was, and he told it to me, and I believe him. I’m not going to explain him in this blog, because even as painful as it was, it is a gift to have him share himself so intimately and vulnerably with me, and so I will keep it in my heart.

I have heard from A a couple of times. He seems to be ok, it was a short relationship, only a few weeks, and it was going to end in a few months anyway. I think he had his place in my life, to remind me that I was desirable when I felt very much the opposite. I couldn’t drum up the same desire for him though, most likely because I was still in love with S. I think my place in his life was to renew his belief in his own spirit after his wife died, to help him to know again that death is only a transformation, not the end. It was good for both of us, but the once the purpose was accomplished it was destined to end.

I know now that my relationship with A was also hurtful to S, though he understands, it was still hurtful. I think we both will try harder to work within our relationship to resolve any issues, whether they be issues between us, or that we are having with ourselves. We both know we don’t want to be with anyone else. I know I am ready to do what needs to be done to build the relationship and not run at the first sign of trouble. Done running. Sick of running. I know that S did not tell me lightly that he didn’t want to be with anyone else, I trust that he also is in that place.

I went to a gong bath last night. I didn’t know what to expect, with all the emotions of the last couple of weeks. Not just S and A, but with my mom, my sis. As it turned out, harmony was the prevailing theme. The gongs seemed to be singing in harmony, as did the drums they play, and the bowls. S was not there physically, but I felt he was with me energetically, and that was very cool.

It was the vernal equinox last night, during the gong bath, which I think added to the energy. Thinking of all the unusual energy that was around yesterday, a solar eclipse, the equinox, the new moon. Of course, here in New England it snowed yet again, lol, and was cold.

I guess we just have to trust that spring will unfold as it should, even though it at times feels like it will never come. Kind of like being in a relationship. Sometimes, you just have to trust that it’s unfolding as it should. And let the joy be.

My Personal Freedom Day.

Posted on by learning to live like water

Today is my Freedom Day. The 10th of March. Eight years ago today, I left an abusive 30 year marriage. I moved out with 3 pieces of furniture, enough kitchen stuff that I could cook, and my clothes.

I spent the night in my new home, a rented condo. And slept the first peaceful sleep I’d had in years. It had taken me 5 years of planning, scheming, hiding money, breaking emotional ties. Clawing my way to the surface. I had to somehow get a car in my name, so he wouldn’t call the police saying I’d stolen his car. I had to get a job, on my own, without his blessing, while I worked with him, for him, in our business. I had to hide money which was always in short supply. I had to somehow hire an attorney. Thank God for credit cards.

I had to leave my 14 year old son, and somehow find a way to help him see he had a different choice. He did….18 months later he left his father’s to go to school, came home to my house and never looked back.

So, 8 years ago today, it all came together and I started my new life. It took me 4 years to finish it off, it was epic, all the way to our state Supreme Court as he appealed the lower court decision, and tried to make me accept less than 10% of the modest estate we’d built.

But life now is so much better than I ever dreamed it could be. I am proof, that thoughts become things, that once you know what you want, the universe conspires to make it happen.  I live in a lovely home, that is MINE,I have a good job, my son is doing extraordinarily well, I have the most wonderful group of friends, and I have a new man in my life who is teaching me what it feels like to be really cared for.

You gotta believe. You can do it. And remember, love never hurts. If it hurts, it isn’t love. So, love yourself enough to find a way to leave, if you’re living in an abusive situation. It’s hard….but nothings harder than staying.

Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

Posted on by learning to live like water

What makes us fall in love with someone? I guess that’s like the $64 million question.

S…was aloof, trying hard not to love me. He wanted to keep his distance, keep himself to himself. He slowly let me into his life, but he didn’t want to have to take care of me. In the sense of our physical connection. Emotionally, he didn’t want to feel obligated to me, to behave in any way just because of me. He didn’t like to kiss. He didn’t like to hold hands, or any other PDA’s. He made me cry, he would tell me that he didn’t want a relationship though he was in one, that he wanted to date lots of women, though he wasn’t. He is a bad boy. Sounds like an asshole right?

But when he was sweet, he was so sweet. He would take me on Sunday afternoon excursions, and on those drives, he would let me into his life. He would tell me stories, he was such a good story teller. He would take me to some pretty special, beautiful places on the water. He loved the ocean, as I did. He spent many years as an offshore fisherman.

When he wanted me, he wanted me bad. But those were the few and far between times. The times I craved, the times I stored into my memory. The times I built into a story that someday he’d love me and want me like that all the time.

It was a lie I told myself. I loved this guy. I wanted so badly to be wanted by him. He didn’t lie to me, I lied to myself. Still, I didn’t expect him to fuck the prison whore. He broke my heart in a thousand pieces, but still…he still tugs at my heartstrings.

But I won’t see him, or talk to him, for many reasons.

1. He fucked the prison whore. 2. He’ll make me cry. 3. I don’t feel like battling my own emotions.
Most importantly… because I told A, my new guy, I would not.

A, the new guy, is a good guy. He wants me with him as much as possible. He goes out of his way for me. He makes things special for me. He tells me I’m beautiful, he loves me. He tells me the men in my life who didn’t appreciate me were idiots. He holds my hand, he hugs me, he caresses my neck, puts his arm around me, whenever the mood hits, in public or private. He kisses me, all the time. He tells me his secrets, his heartache, his joys. He still loves his wife, who he lost to cancer 8 months ago, but somehow that is a good thing. It doesn’t seem to hinder his emotions now in any way.

I am trying to love him. I mean, I do…in many ways. I want to love him the way I loved S. He makes me happy…He makes me feel so special. Like I am the best thing that ever happened to him. I want to love this man. And it’s early in this relationship, early. We have time, lots of time.

The only drawback to A is that when he sells his house, he will be moving. Across country, eventually to Santa Fe. I could never follow him there. I could never live in the desert. He and I know this. I have known since day one that eventually he will be gone. But I just don’t care, right now. Because right now in this moment, he is teaching me what it is like to have someone really and truly care for me.

I wish I could get S out of my head, and my heart. Despite what he did, and what he doesn’t do, he sits there, tugging. I think I still see that lost little boy, who is just trying to make his way in the world without the unconditional love that a child so craves, and needs. S is still believing that because those people were defective and couldn’t feel love, that he doesn’t deserve it. He still doesn’t believe that’s what he is at his center, no matter who did or didn’t love him in his life.

I guess I just need time, for both things. To put S in the past. And to fully embrace A in the present. So…I’ll not contact S. I will be there with A.

The Fog of Confusion

Posted on by learning to live like water
“Confusion is the hallmark of a transition. To rebuild both your inner and outer world is a major project.”
 – Anne Grant
I am confused this morning.  I have met a man…who is kind, considerate, loving, and wants to be with me.  I like him…a lot.  I have spent a lot of time with him this past week.  But when I lay my head on the pillow last night, I was missing S, and wishing so much that he could have cared for me that way.  And then feeling stupid for not appreciating momentarily what was, and wanting what wasn’t, and will never be.
It came from the fact that S called me and left me a voice mail asking me to talk to him yesterday.  I answered him, by email, and told him I would unblock the email, because I know he had things to say.  But I couldn’t see him or talk to him.
Why?  Why can’t I see him or talk to him?  Because what he did, fucking the prison whore, still hurts me.  I cannot hear his voice, even in a voice mail, without feeling that knife cutting my heart open again.  I could never look into his blue eyes, without melting down in pain.
I know I have to let go of the man, I have let go a great deal.  But of course, he still wants to see me.  He isn’t going to write what he has to say.  I don’t really want to hear what he has to say.  I don’t want him now, when he’s acted to destroy what I thought was something special, to tell me nice things.  He tells me he has nothing bad to say, and that he’ll make me smile.
I don’t want him to make me smile now.  I want him to disappear, so I can forget him, so I can fully appreciate the new man in my life.  The one who wants me, who would never hurt me, who strives to make me happy.
S told me he “needs this” and that I “owe” him.  I told him I owe him nothing.  How could I possibly owe him?  I loved him, while he refused to love me, or admit it.  He fucked the prison whore, not me.  What do I owe him?  He has already taken far more from me than he has given.  He owes me, the peace of mind that I ask for, to leave me alone, to let me go on and forget about him.  To give me enough time for the affection I feel for him to fade.
Confused.  I hope I don’t blow this new opportunity, wishing the past was different than it was.  Stupid, just stupid of me. Maybe it’s just another layer that I need to sit with.  I don’t know.  Confused.
Gonna put on the fog lights and find my way out of this.

My Greatest Gift

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

 

From Anger to Acceptance. Surrender, and Let the Shift Happen

Posted on by learning to live like water

I was angry, from Sunday night until last night. It was coming out in all my interactions, with my son, with my co-workers. Was not a pretty thing. Wrote a whole journal about it, thought about turning it into a blog, decided to do the “wait until morning and see how you feel” thing. In the morning after a very difficult night, tossed and turned for hours….I didn’t feel it.

In fact, at the moment I’m not angry at all. I think I am getting enough distance from the whole breakup with S. Today I can look back at the fun cool things we did and be happy for them, I can look at the betrayal and know he’s a messed up guy when it comes to that area. He’s not a bad guy. Like I said when I was trying to remain friends, he’s smart, really smart, funny, really funny, and very interesting. He’s got, as he called them on a dating site, piercing blue eyes.

But he’s messed up too. He does things he can’t really explain, he doesn’t know how to be accountable for the damage he does. He will apologize. Usually followed by “but….” He will try to find something wrong with you, if he has hurt you, to justify his behavior.

Childish, immature.

But not hateful. Egocentric, yes. Terrified of being at fault. But just messed up. He doesn’t set out to do the damage. He just doesn’t know how to stop himself.

He’s still that little boy, who couldn’t do anything right enough to earn the love of those who were supposed to just love him because he was. But it’s his journey to figure that out, not mine.

The biggest thing is, that the sting has gone out of what he did. I don’t see it as directed at me, to hurt me. I see it as a careless act, and the best he could do at the time in the place his head was. So, the hurt that was so raw, now I just shrug it off. He’s a hot mess. But he no longer has the power to make me into one.

Now, not sayin’ I want to set myself up for it again. Still haven’t talked to him, in 5 days, don’t intend to. I have had some opportunities to talk to men who don’t seem to be inclined to have sex with the first strange 31 year old headed for prison they encounter. Or anyone else for that matter. I hope he can raise his sights a little higher, for his own good. So he’s not paying for an STD test every time he has sex.

So enough of him. I’m not angry anymore. One reason is because I had a gathering of some of my closest friends at my house last night. We started a book club, focusing on spiritual books. We’re all into spirit, energy, journey back to source. So, the thing was, I was able to connect, and raise my level of consciousness out of the level of pain and hurt, and low self esteem and questioning myself. Discussion with my friends brought me back to who I am, who I want to be. Which is not someone who is in a relationship with a man who will fuck anyone he can. I get why I did it. I also get why I no longer want anything to do with it.

I had a long talk with my guy-friend, who I went out to dinner with a couple weeks ago. We text, we don’t talk on the phone much, but he asked me to call tonight on the way home, and I did. It was so pleasant, he is such a nice guy. He’s widowed, recently, he hadn’t told me that. Another reason why he isn’t looking for a relationship. He’s still raw. But he misses the friendship and companionship of a woman. Which is fine with me, because I miss male energy, but don’t want to find myself jumping into a new relationship. So we keep each other company, without all that heated energy to get into bed together.

I’m going to go to bed early tonight, and hope to make it through the night. I don’t know what I’m running on, my sleeping has been awful this week. A shift, I think I’m undergoing a shift. I was straying from my path, in my anger and my pain. Coming back to center now. Was a pretty hellacious ride.

I let it go, surrender. There are wonderful things ahead for me, I am sure of it.

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.

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.

“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.

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…….