An Expensive Education

Sometimes so much happens in between posts that I avoid writing because the task of getting it all out seems monumental- like letting the house go too long without a cleaning.  Boy have the last six months been difficult and wonderful, meaningful and jam packed with life's lessons- many of which I'm still trying to sort and figure out.

From the very beginning of my relationship with the young musician, I have had to do serious battle with what I call my little demon; that small voice with a big, fat, negative opinion and assumption about everything.  I have second guessed myself, his feelings towards me and my own chosen words and actions again and again. I began to feel that this relationship could be a turning point for me and this little demon, that it was time to learn in earnest how to cope with and tame this voice.  When last I wrote of him I had just returned from California and was feeling very unsure about where things stood in the present and where they might go in the future.  After much internal debate I decided one night - 'Hey I'm just going to ask for clarification and state what I want."
So I did just that, I asked what he was feeling for me, told him I simply wanted to see him when I could, continue to foster this friendship and to be his lover.  When I hit send I felt empowered and sure of myself.  Then the voice snuck up and started to say things like: Why did you say that? He already told you, you're going to push him away! You sound needy and desperate. You're pathetic. etc.....
I called my girlfriend, she brought me back to reality and I felt good and strong again. I called my mom and she said- " He already told you, you're going to push him away!" That  was a major aha moment.  I saw where some of that insecure little demon came from, passed down unknowingly from mother to daughter.  So I called another girlfriend and by the end of that conversation I felt confident once more.  But I had to wait a good number of days for his response and it became more and more difficult to hold onto that sureness.  On the fourth day I got his response which went something like this: 'I too want to see you when I can, I want to foster this friendship and I want to be your lover. I'm beginning to have a better understanding and am excited to see where this goes."
Damn did that feel good. It affirmed the usefulness of asking for clarification and saying what you want. (Duh)  The next couple weeks were heady and wonderful, I got a package in the mail with sweet, thoughtful, personal gifts- he included a little something for the kids as well. Then I got a homemade valentine in the mail and then- nothing.....for nearly two weeks. My many emails went unanswered.  It had not been abnormal for him to go long stretches without writing but he was leaving some important questions of mine hanging- like when will I see you again and why don't we talk on the phone or try skype sometime....  The floodgates had just been opened, his eagerness for the future of our relationship had been expressed, it seemed an odd time for an extended silence.  I worked really hard those two weeks to think positively. I did not let that little voice take over, it took a marked effort on my part but I won in the end. Sort of.
Two weeks later I got an email: he had reconnected with his former fiance, he was staying in CA for at least the next six months, no summer tours near me etc...  There was other stuff, little stories about being snow bound and birthing puppies, there were questions about my new job and such, but it was rather non-committal and there was no direct comment on what had just passed between us not even a month prior, no recognition of what this would mean for our relationship. Just a casual- I've started spending more and more time with the girl who was my fiance now that we'll be in San Diego for a while together.

This sudden turn of events has caused me pain, though it's far from the 'end of my world', it's confusing as hell. I worked so hard to gain control of my negativity, I finally managed it and my negative worries were justified in the end. Thanks Universe. Thanks for that one.

Ultimately, hurt feelings aside, I feel relieved to be free of that guessing game and I trust that in the end this outcome will work in both our favors. Thanks to all my friends who encouraged and supported me in this first romantic endeavor, it's not a failed attempt, but a brave and educational one.

Flatlining

I’m sorry. I think it, I repeat it in my head, I silently scream it at his back as he leaves, I compel him to feel it stretching from my heart. The spoken words are too weak, meaningless and almost insulting but if he could feel how sorry I truly am.... well it still wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference now would it? I’d still be gone. The supposed purpose of expressing regret is to alleviate the suffering of another who you have wronged in some way yet it usually only serves to alleviate the guilt of the offending or apologizing party. Just another selfish act. It puts me in a very awkward position for what then can I say or do? Nothing? Appear callous, aloof, unburdened? We are now in the chapter where he distances himself from me absolutely, where he will accept no kindness, no help, no small tokens of love and certainly no apologies or acts of sympathy. In a way it is a relief to be here because I don’t feel on edge, waiting for the next effort he might make that I’ll have to reject but it leaves me feeling very unsure of what my role is now. I am not comfortable with the idea of him perceiving me to be cold or uncaring but I also am not comfortable being vulnerable by extending myself and feeling the sting of his refusal.

Oh it is a tricky dance and I have no formal training! But I do feel sorry. Sorry for not loving him enough, sorry for leaving and taking everything with me, sorry for opening my heart to another man and feeling so much joy and happiness as a result while he still suffers. Do I feel guilty? Yes. Should I? Of course not, I am simply living out my life, I am only human, I deserve as much forgiveness and understanding as the next human being, but still I carry a heavy load of guilt on my back. I think it’s akin to feeling guilt for laughing too loud, too soon after a loved one has died; there’s the intense relief followed by the sharp self reprimand and the wondering if that makes you unfeeling in some way.

It’s baffling how quickly someone with whom you have shared a large portion of your life, can become a stranger. All these little compartments slamming shut and you just keep backing up so you don’t get a finger pinched in one of them, you just keep backing up until all of a sudden you realize how far you’ve moved from one another. There is no sense of panic in my heart, no sense that I am making a mistake but there is a steady sadness like the flat line on the hospital monitor letting you know in it’s unwavering monotone that it’s final, it’s over. There is the regret of having to hurt some one you love for your own happiness.

I am ready to file for divorce. The reasons that have been holding me back such as health insurance, are no longer as important as needing to be able to enjoy my happiness free of guilt. And I hope, with all the love for him that resides in me, that he feels the reprieve of a little sunshine in his own heart and that it comes swiftly, for his relief is in the hands of time now and not in mine.

I’ve been purging as women do, slowly, memory by memory, an individual goodbye to the ghosts of the past, present and future of a dead relationship. All week I’ve been crying, the tears finding their way out in little increments, accepting any opportunity to release themselves; the haunting refrain of a song, a dead cat on the road, an old love letter, loneliness, and last night an exhausting dream in which three men I know killed themselves and I cried in exhales until no sound came out and my chest burned. I woke with a headache that did not diminish and rattled around the house trying to make sense of myself, of my life, cleaned the windows, mopped the floor, read, anything to keep busy, to not feel so alone, to keep the cold stone of fear at bay. Fear of being so directionless, fear of not having a job, fear of falling in love again, fear of making mistakes, fear never being successful, fear of having a saggy ass someday. As soon as you write it out it becomes less powerful, it’s just letters and words.

Amidst, or perhaps I should say hand in hand with these tough days are miraculous moments of contentment and spells of clarity and peace of mind. I don’t want to overlook any opportunity for joy and it’s something I have to constantly remind myself of. Paul Simon sings, “When something goes wrong I’m the first to admit it, I’m the first to admit it and the last one to know, when something goes right oh it’s likely to lose me, it’s apt to confuse me- it’s such an unusual sight- I can’t get used to something so right.”

It’s far too easy to talk yourself out of having a happy life. All you have to do is focus on the negative things and then that’s all you’ll see. When something is right, when there is a gift in front of me, when love is at my door I want to be present to witness, to accept and to reciprocate. So these feelings of guilt that claw at me and cling to my legs, trying to slow me down-what can I do with them? I remember hearing the Dalai Lama talk about how he processes emotions. He says he feels them to their absolute fullest and then lets them go. I’ve thought a lot about this and whether I am capable of doing it. I’ve come to realize that many times the same emotion will come at you again and again, like waves lapping at the shore, they don’t just come around one time, you feel it and then it’s done. My instinct may be to collect it but that’s only nurturing something that in the end will bite the hand that feeds it. So I am working on giving myself permission to feel each negative wave as it comes in, recognize it, and then let it pass on by, it gets one blip on the monitor and then it makes a straight line for the exit.

Taste of Honey

It was late morning before he made it over to the Inn where I was staying, an old horse stable converted into two rooms with private bathrooms and beautiful views of apple orchards and Volcan Mountian Wildlife Preserve. The air was already warm enough to roll the windows down as we wound around the curving mountain roads. My heart leaps about in my chest at the vast landscape, at the freedom of the day and at the sight of the man next to me in who's company I feel so at ease, like lying naked in the sun, muscles melting into the ground. An hour later, armed with a somewhat vague map and advice from two lovely volunteers at the visitors center, we park the truck and start out on Hellhole Canyon trail in search of a seasonal waterfall that we've been told is still running. Before reaching the mountains it's about a mile across the straight, flat wash punctuated by cactuses and shrubs like the tall, red blooming ocotillo, brittle bush, agave and the cute barrel cactus which protrude red and deceptively fluffy looking. We are told most people stop too soon when they come to a tiny fall, we must continue on over the boulders and above all stay to the right- even when the trail becomes less clear. All around are flowers blooming, on cactuses and white sage, there are even some single stemmed frail blossoms poking out of the dry ground, a small delicate burst of purple against all odds. The heat is intense but it's arid, so bearable. Our footsteps startle tiny lizards, yellow warblers and hummingbirds. I've never seen so many hummingbirds in one day but their number doesn't diminish my excitement of seeing their small bodies darting around at impossible speeds and hearing the buzz of their tiny wings.
A sense of peace has settled in my chest and my thoughts for the moment are only here in the Anza Borrego Desert. We are careful to take lots of water breaks as the heat can deplete you faster than you realize and we've got a round trip hike of nearly six miles ahead of us. As we approach the ravine we begin our ascent and the scenery gives way to giant boulders and mountains rise on either side silent and hot. I wonder out loud how many pairs of eyes might be watching us from above. We don't see any big horn sheep that are known to traverse the peaks but there's so man crevasses and rocks you'd have to sit still and study one spot to pick out any movement. As the rocks got bigger and the path more narrow and trickier to traverse we keep up the same fast pace with eyes and muscles working together in perfect ease and unison. Suddenly we come upon a rag tag group of palm trees and he notes we must be nearing water. Soon after we hear the first trickles of a small stream,there are more palms and two random deciduous trees with yellowish brown brittle leaves clinging long past their season for falling. This is the only thing I see that day to remind me it is mid-January.
We snake back and forth across the stream, sometimes taking the trail less travelled and laugh that despite the advice given we have mainly stayed to the Left. We come to the smaller water fall and press on for about a mile until we hear the promising sound of water crashing onto rock. There it was, tucked modestly behind dead vines and trees between fern covered rocks, surrounded by desert. I pulled off my socks and shoes and stood close to the cold cascading water, turning my hands and face to the gentle drips falling from a mammoth boulder overhead.
We stand in our own thoughts, enjoying nature's reward then snack on cliff bars and fruit before starting back. We quickly make our way down through the boulders and slow our pace once we again enter the flat terrain of the wash. The sun is no longer directly overhead and we are comfortably warm, happily tired and satisfied.

Back in the truck I smell the heat of his body and my head reels, my own body responds and I have to turn my head to the cool air from the window to collect myself. He reaches for my hand and expertly navigates around the hairpin turns with one arm. It's my last night in California and the floodgates in my heart have creaked open, the touch of his hand as he has traced my face and my body, has set a tremble in my very foundation.

The night before we had walked in the apple orchard behind my room, the moon was not even half full but so bright that the world was perfectly illuminated. Warm winds were gusting through and the frogs were in full chorus. So easily we talk and just as easily we sit in appreciative or thoughtful silence together. We walked down the road into a canyon surrounded by the protected wildlife preserve, we lay in the middle of the quiet road and look at the stars and talk. Later in my room we move ever closer on my bed until our lips finally meet and our bodies are free to communicate. I have been waiting for this, to have passionate energy flowing through my body and I fully surrender myself to it. He is caring and restrained and we do not complicate things by making love but enjoy each other for many happy minutes before he left for his own bed.

I knew when I boarded the plane to California I was taking a risk. That I might return home more confused, that I might suffer from the taste of honey, but how could I not go when such bliss might lie in wait? Our last night together he gently let me know that he is fully committed to the band for another two years and it's just not our time right now. He doesn't want to be a distraction while I figure my own stuff out and he's had so much heartbreak as a result of his lifestyle, he won't let our beautiful friendship be ruined by a failed romance. He can redirect the energy from his heart into protecting our friendship. And I hear him, I even admire him for his discipline but at the same time I can't understand a word he is saying. I know that even though I am not ready for a committed relationship and if he asked that of me I would feel smothered, I still want to hear him say he needs to see me, that he can't resist, that he's crazy about me. That is my language, not this Reasonable crap.

I'll not lie, it hurts, it's uncomfortable and it's damn hard to come down when my reality is so difficult right now. But this is important for me to experience and I'm grateful to him for tempering my fool hardy habit of diving after my heart. It's unrealistic- as much as it feels like someone has invaded my body when I say that. But then ultimately don't we make our own reality? See now I'm back to my old self.

He sent me a book entitled "The Alchemist" and one of it's running philosophies is that when you want something all of the Universe conspires to help you get it. I want to feel like I have come home to myself and then I want happiness in love. What ever that looks like and whomever it is with, I want happiness. I'm asking for it.
Every day I wake up and think 'deep breaths', I will be carried from this uncomfortable place by life's slow moving current, I just have to keep my head above water.


I woke from dreams of the desert
and the hot smell of your skin
the firm press of your lips on mine
the sun, the moon and the warm winter wind

I keep my eyes closed to the light of the day
snuggle down deep in the nest of my bed
and wonder perhaps if I’m on your mind
where across many miles you lay your head

Oh don’t forget while
you’re rambling ‘round
us searching the heavens
our backs to the ground

how the world was
all lit in slivery light
and the frogs sang their
harmony into the night

Though our worlds are mountains apart
our words weave a landscape between us
where we might meet and sit side by side
the rules of space and time bend to join us

I wonder what it is you will do dear friend
when the covetous road sets you free
will your heart have settled with another
or will you cross over the distance to me