Which is why, this isn't really about her. Our lack of communication. Or the next few days that are so big for her. This is about me.
I was watching Grey's Anatomy . . . part of my insomnia routine. And at some point for a reason that I can't quite place, I started sobbing. This particular episode dealt with a lot of pediatric cases. And it also dealt with relationships.
I don't know how to tie all of the things in my heart together, so I'll just list them.
- There are more men in my world these days. More men slowly becoming friendlier towards me . . . some of whom are showing interest in something beyond friendship. Of course there also seems to be more men in my world who are being completely inappropriate as well. But I'm trying not to put energy towards those random strangers who feel it necessary to be lewd. I know that it's inevitable that I open my heart towards these men in my life - whether as friendship or dating. This is not a bad thing. I need to do this in order to heal. I feel that in my body. It's not that it's going to dictate who I spend a lifetime with in the future . . . at least not in the sense of all of this work leading to me suddenly being 'straight'. I do love women and men equally. Without filtering for 'parts'. I always have. Long before I was ever abused or raped. Long before I ever had the abortion. The reality is, that it is much harder for me to trust men. And since I've moved here, I've been blessed with good men, who are slowly teaching me how to trust. But I still have a long way to go. And I sense, in all honesty, that there will be one man in all of it, who I end up in a relationship with. I don't know who. But my heart tells me that something needs to be healed . . . that can only be healed in the context of a relationship. I could be wrong. And I feel the resistance in my body to what my heart says . . . which only serves as evidence for what is being said.
- Earlier tonight I had a phone conversation with a good friend . . . who is currently at a crossroads in her own life. She's stuck. In all senses. And I'm trying to help her in the only way that I can right now - by holding space for her to build her practice. By handing over what I know. By holding her accountable. By pointing out the inconsistencies in a loving way. And by sharing my community with her. She's a resilient woman. And a beautiful one. And she talked tonight about how she wants it all. Not just her practice. But a man and a family too. Her last two boyfriends have been lost souls, stuck in their own issues. And so I said to her, 'get yourself unstuck, so that you can attract someone else who is also unstuck. Live your passion, so that you can attract someone else who can live their passion.' . . . and later . . . found myself wondering about the set of people that I have been attracting this year, including 8. Obviously, it's about boundaries. That's a no-brainer. But it also seems to be about being unavailable. Being these wonderful, exciting, amazing people . . . who are completely unavailable. Look in the mirror my friend. You are what you attract. Regardless of how the 'unavailability' occurs. I am unavailable. I have so much energy tied around the rape, the abuse, and yes, the termination. 8 is the closest I have come to being able to look at that honestly . . . to see it fully . . . and to share it with someone.
- I love 8. I have no doubts regarding that. And just like I see these other things in my life that will be created - the nonprofit, my MT practice, PSM, Marakame, grad school for Public Health . . . I see her and her children in my future as well. My heart sees all of this. I have a starting point. And I have a milestone marker. I know very very very little of the steps in between. And so I'm being asked to have faith. To live . . . in faith. To be . . . faith. And in the process of faith, 8 is a symbol to me. One that I cannot become attached to or have expectations of . . . like Raihan in some regards because I could do neither of those things with him. But I need to also acknowledge that she is a symbol to me . . . of my own journey towards healing . . . of faith . . . of what I want in this lifetime madly and deeply - a partner and a family.
- Speaking of madly and deeply . . . that would be an apt description for how I sobbed this morning . . . when I realized how incredibly lonely I am. Not lonely for community or friends. I have both. And gratitude for both. Lonely . . . so deeply lonely . . . so incredibly . . . amazingly . . . heartwrenchingly lonely for a partner. For one person in this world that I can connect with on all levels. The intensity of these emotions surprised me. Profoundly. I have a beautiful life. And I have always said that I would be celebrate my life each day regardless of whether I was single or in a relationship. I do. I have experienced so many things as a result of being single and being able to live my life as I pleased. I have grown in so many capacities. I'm healthy on so many levels. There is no regret for any of this. And yet there is a profound loneliness that sits at the root of all of this. All it took was for Arizona to say 'I love you' to her girlfriend tonight and I was a complete mess. Not because I can't say that to 8. I will, eventually. When the time is right for both her and I. I was a mess because I want to say it. I want to be able to say it. I want to have the opportunity TO say it. And to hear it in response. I tell my friends all of the time that I love them. I think it takes half of them by surprise since it's a phrase that you don't usually say unless you're dating someone. But there is truth when I say it. I do love them. And so I say it. But saying it a million times to your friends . . . does not equal saying it one time to the person you want to spend your life with.
- Family. And for this one . . . I actually have to stop and focus on breathing . . . because even just thinking about writing about it . . . brings tears to my eyes. I want family. It's not that I feel the need to bear children. It's that I want children in my life. Children who are going to look to me every day for stability and support and unconditional love. Children who are going to press all of my buttons . . . and who are going to make me laugh . . . and who are going to make me cry . . . and who are going to make my heart sing. My heart beats fiercely for that. I don't know that I would be able to peacefully accept a lifetime without children. Honestly.
- I am exhausted. I've been supporting the people in my life as fully as I can. And I've been doing an exceptional job at taking care of myself . . . well . . . perhaps exceptional is a strong word . . . there is always room for improvement. The reality is, I've been keeping a good balance and not overextending. But here, in this moment, I am exhausted. I need some support. I need someone to hug me and tell me that it's going to be okay. Really okay. I might even need a shoulder to cry on. I don't know. And I get that all that I have to do is ask. But right now I'm too tired to ask. It's easier just to get on my bike and go for a ride. Or pull out my yoga mat and breathe. But it's not the same.
The reality is . . . I'm terrified. All logic aside . . . stepping away from the analysis . . . dropping the synchronicity of everything that is unfolding . . . just looking within . . . I am terrified to do this. I am terrified to walk through this. I am terrified to feel this. I am terrified to sit in it. It feels ominous - as though it's going to gut me. And when I look at the responsibilities that I have on my plate . . . there is no space for that. There's not even space for this - being awake in the middle of the night. And yet there has to be . . . because it has already started. Nothing short of cutting 8 out of my life and closing off ALL of the opportunities in my life . . . will halt this . . . and even that would only be temporary.
I actually did think tonight of shutting the door on 8. Terrible, I know. But it's because of what she represents to me. Not because of who she is. Somewhere deep inside I was caught in the transitions of her life . . . as a way to avoid dealing with this particular transition in my life. I think Mama Sequoia knew this . . . and I believe that is why she asked me to bring 8 to her . . . and why she gave me the homework that she did . . . so that they could forge a connection that would ultimately help both of us. I think she knew I was getting stuck on this. And why. Being in that space would serve neither of us. So she stepped in.
My acupuncturist once said to me, that in each opportunity for healing, there is always a choice to be made. You can always choose to sidestep it . . . for now . . . and that is an honorable decision if it's what you need in this moment. If you feel as though you don't have what you need in order to survive . . . and in order to live it fully. However, in choosing this, you have to recognize that this lesson will circle back around to you, at another time, in another way. And you will be given the same choice again. Some people spend a lifetime refusing to choose the opportunity to heal.
Here, in this moment, I am choosing. And even as I type that, I feel my entire body resisting.
I want to live fully. These lessons that have been circling around me for years . . . I choose to learn them now. Because I see where I am in this moment. And I see what I want for my future. And I have faith that I will be guided from here to there.
I posted this on 8's FB wall tonight . . . I need to be reminded as well . . .
When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. ~ Barbara Winter
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.