When I was little, I used to stare out the window when we'd drive at night and stare at the moon. I always found it facinating that it would follow us everywhere...night after night...like a faithful companion. Tonight, I looked for her. I knew a full moon was upon us and as I drove through the sweet Colorado summer night, windows and sunroof open, hair flowing in the wind and om bagavan bellowing out of my speakers, I kept glancing to the east with anticipation of la grande lune.
I've been facinated by the moon - what it represents. It can symbolize femininity, as the moon cycles like a woman. It is also a sign of uncertainty, or lack of clarity. I think that sums up where I'm at right now in life. Uncertain. Sensitive. And very in touch with my femininity. All of which are due their time in my life.
There seems to be so much to process. So many thoughts and feelings enter me and like an inhalation, both inspire and ignite me. I aim to be patient with myself - avoiding any expectation that I be at a certain point in my healing or quest. Some people wait until they have lived half a lifetime before they are where I'm at in my life - wondering where to go to next. And I am choosing to see it as a time to discover my next step. I have had so many doors open in my life - now it's just a matter of trusting that the right one will open.
As I move into being "single," a label I loath more than anything, I am learning to enjoy the serenity it can sometimes lend to my life. I am not in torment about my feelings for someone else. I am not looking for the closest exit or wishing I could "figure" out why it wasn't working. I am waking on my own and laying my head down in my own space. And as the time passes and I continue to ask the necessary questions about what it is I am about, I realize this was the best decision for me at this time. Although I grieve another relationship not working out, and the transformation that it has thwarted me into now, I am positive that this is absolutely necessary for my life.
My energy shifts, along with my heart and I enter a new chapter. It is MY book. MY life. And I am now starting to see that although my purpose in life is to LIVE love, the outcome I hope is true happiness.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
I hate this part...
We don't talk like lovers anymore. We are friends...most of the time and strangers or enemies much of the other. I know we never thought we'd get here but sometimes there IS too much water under the bridge. It washes away the possibilities...carries with it the undesirable memories, dreams fallen...hearts breaking. I hear that all-too-familiar voice creep in, "it's time now to let go again." As I recall these last two years, it's clear what his purpose was in my life. I wonder if he sees mine in his; if he'll ever forgive me for not being able to make this work. Wonder if he'll hate me. Wonder if his heart will break as mine has through this process. Wonder how I can explain that it's truly not him - it's us...it's the timing...it's me, knowing I can't do it any longer - not like this.
I miss him already. His eyes haunt me. And I realize how I may never see them the same way again. And now, I understand that is the chance you take when you fall in love.
I sat up in bed, wishing I could run somewhere but all the while, staying. His anger was understandable. How did we get here? I ask but I saw the map. I saw the change in him. In me. In us. As my head went to my hands and the tears wet my fingers, I knew, beyond a doubt, that it was time...to move on. I never wanted it to come to this...the obvious place we must have had to get to in order to end something that we both knew should never have endured. And now, with distance, I realize it's inevitable.
I really do hate this part of it all. And yet I want it engrained in my memory so I am more careful, more discerning...and in a better place before I let another man in my life like that.
I miss him already. His eyes haunt me. And I realize how I may never see them the same way again. And now, I understand that is the chance you take when you fall in love.
I sat up in bed, wishing I could run somewhere but all the while, staying. His anger was understandable. How did we get here? I ask but I saw the map. I saw the change in him. In me. In us. As my head went to my hands and the tears wet my fingers, I knew, beyond a doubt, that it was time...to move on. I never wanted it to come to this...the obvious place we must have had to get to in order to end something that we both knew should never have endured. And now, with distance, I realize it's inevitable.
I really do hate this part of it all. And yet I want it engrained in my memory so I am more careful, more discerning...and in a better place before I let another man in my life like that.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
My Jedi...
I loved him. He was a connection, a smile, a heartache, and one of the most amazing individuals I may ever encounter. As the news flooded my ears, so did a wave of disbelief. Not him. Not like that. No way. The sobs began in a cave so deep within myself - one I had forgotten was there, and I couldn't speak. I uttered words but they almost didn't make sense. A darkness washed over my heart and as if it were yesterday, every moment of my time with him came rushing back. Not him....I kept hearing my heart scream from within my chest - NOT HIM! He was SO alive - how? Why? When? Wake up!
But I didn't. And haven't slept much these past days. The memories play over and over again like a movie - like one of his films. And regret. Why didn't I call him that time? Did he know how much I loved him? Will I always wish I had done something different?
I met him when I had just turned 14. It was a college party and I was with my naughty friend, tripping on acid. So was he. Amidst the chaos of the party, the people I didn't know, and the loud music, he walked into my life - animated, telling stories - big as ever! I remember thinking, "wow he's cute but does he ever shut up?" He never did, thankfully. Never the entire time I knew him. After that night, we became best friends..then lovers then distant penpals...then lovers again...but we were always...always magically connected. Some of my fondest memories were when he used to drive me around in his black Camero - Chili Peppers blaring, thumb drumming the steering wheel as he smoked a cigarette with the other. The way he moved reflected an amazing passion for life - one I always envied. He never lost that. He had grand gestures, amazingly funny facial gestures...and a knack for telling stories and making me smile. He was one of the most generous people I had the luck of meeting - I don't remember anything but the good moments. Without a doubt - he was (and will always be) one of my favorite people.
Of course, as good love stories go, we lost touch...for a while. Then one lucky moment in time we reconnected. And when we finally came face to face, it was if no time had passed. Only now, as adults, the love, passion and deep connection was stronger. All those feelings we had as teenagers were there, magnified by freedom and a knowing. But, as it goes, I was leaving again - Paris. So we had one summer...of love, of music...of wishing we had more time. But we didn't. So we spent every moment we could together. It was the best summer of my life. At the end of it, the night before I was leaving for the city of lights, we drove deep into the mountains - like we once did as kids - and under the stars, he gave me a ring. "To Paris. L, J." Beneath those stars, heartbroken but in love - that's how I choose to remember him. His smile. His love. Our Jedi connection.
Why is it that the memories are so blurry until you can no longer create them? I want to call him. I want to turn back time - like the movie he created to represent our perfect summer - bring him back...let him know how much he is loved and needed here.
My heart is crying...and will for some time...for a life he should have had...for a daughter who will never know him...for the time I wish I had with him again.
In love...the deepest kind a human can experience...always.
L,
B
But I didn't. And haven't slept much these past days. The memories play over and over again like a movie - like one of his films. And regret. Why didn't I call him that time? Did he know how much I loved him? Will I always wish I had done something different?
I met him when I had just turned 14. It was a college party and I was with my naughty friend, tripping on acid. So was he. Amidst the chaos of the party, the people I didn't know, and the loud music, he walked into my life - animated, telling stories - big as ever! I remember thinking, "wow he's cute but does he ever shut up?" He never did, thankfully. Never the entire time I knew him. After that night, we became best friends..then lovers then distant penpals...then lovers again...but we were always...always magically connected. Some of my fondest memories were when he used to drive me around in his black Camero - Chili Peppers blaring, thumb drumming the steering wheel as he smoked a cigarette with the other. The way he moved reflected an amazing passion for life - one I always envied. He never lost that. He had grand gestures, amazingly funny facial gestures...and a knack for telling stories and making me smile. He was one of the most generous people I had the luck of meeting - I don't remember anything but the good moments. Without a doubt - he was (and will always be) one of my favorite people.
Of course, as good love stories go, we lost touch...for a while. Then one lucky moment in time we reconnected. And when we finally came face to face, it was if no time had passed. Only now, as adults, the love, passion and deep connection was stronger. All those feelings we had as teenagers were there, magnified by freedom and a knowing. But, as it goes, I was leaving again - Paris. So we had one summer...of love, of music...of wishing we had more time. But we didn't. So we spent every moment we could together. It was the best summer of my life. At the end of it, the night before I was leaving for the city of lights, we drove deep into the mountains - like we once did as kids - and under the stars, he gave me a ring. "To Paris. L, J." Beneath those stars, heartbroken but in love - that's how I choose to remember him. His smile. His love. Our Jedi connection.
Why is it that the memories are so blurry until you can no longer create them? I want to call him. I want to turn back time - like the movie he created to represent our perfect summer - bring him back...let him know how much he is loved and needed here.
My heart is crying...and will for some time...for a life he should have had...for a daughter who will never know him...for the time I wish I had with him again.
In love...the deepest kind a human can experience...always.
L,
B
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Moving forward...
I feel like it's going to take some time for me to recover from the immense disappointment. I think, in this life at least, I may be here to dream and yet be reminding of the reality of life. To live between the earth and sky - grounded yet able to take flight. I never come back as strong but I know, as with many of my life experiences thus far, I will come back. The ravine is not that deep and other times in my life have been tougher and I have ALWAYS come back.
As I begin my departure from this chapter of my life and I try to keep a smile on my face and avoid the desire and instinct to lash out, I keep my eye on the next open door. Yet, I can't seem to shake the feeling like I am meant to truly find the logic or reasoning for it. Do I call the conflict to me? What, if anything, in the future, can I do to avoid the 1 1/2 year frustration that seems to be my trend where jobs are concerned?
As I attempt to see the light at the end of this tunnel, I hope I can keep my wits about me - avoid the urge to scratch eyeballs out. And leave with less darkness in my heart.
Ah yes...may the clouds begin to lift.
As I begin my departure from this chapter of my life and I try to keep a smile on my face and avoid the desire and instinct to lash out, I keep my eye on the next open door. Yet, I can't seem to shake the feeling like I am meant to truly find the logic or reasoning for it. Do I call the conflict to me? What, if anything, in the future, can I do to avoid the 1 1/2 year frustration that seems to be my trend where jobs are concerned?
As I attempt to see the light at the end of this tunnel, I hope I can keep my wits about me - avoid the urge to scratch eyeballs out. And leave with less darkness in my heart.
Ah yes...may the clouds begin to lift.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
No regrets.
There comes a moment when you have to say, "enough!" It's almost primal...a roar...from the very center of you. You realize all that you thought mattered - the importance it all once held for you - means more than your own happiness and the sadness...the anger...the injustice of that takes center stage. It's not selfishness...it's survival. It's self-protection. It's love. Who you have become is no longer someone you would spend time with if given the choice. The tears come more frequently and your very center cries for change...it screams...so loud sometimes that it's all that you hear...until, it IS all that you hear. Your inner voice can no longer be ignored - she takes the forefront of everything you do.
And then something happens. And you know, beyond any doubt, that YOUR happiness depends on your willingness to walk away... your desire to become the bigger, more beautiful version of yourself. And without it, love cannot survive.
Footprint in front of footprint you step, as if outside of yourself, and you take that unknown, uncertain, fearful step forward and realize that only FAITH and HOPE allow you to courageously move forward. Faith that what you desired, long before all the other nonsense took precedence, will carry you to a place where the light shows you the way. And a hope that you deserve happiness, love, joy and a life as you always dreamed it to be. And so you allow these two untangeable emotions guide your heart forward and you know, in your deepest of places, that it will be better.
Sometimes that which we initially see becomes less of what we desire. Because it looks different. Perhaps it disappoints. it is not at all what you thought it would be...look like...feel like. And you feel disenchantment toward it - a kind of resentment maybe. And you realize how it hardened you. But, after the clouds part, you see that it also propeled you into a place you may have not even thought to consider and doors open and you see, with a sense of relief and joy, that it is EXACTLY where you were meant to be.
The strength from that realization roars again inside you. And the beauty of the emotions you passed through to get here save you. They remind you that you are utterly, 100% human. Fallible. Strong. Capable. Unwavering.
And when you look back at the end of your life, these are the defining moments. You stood up. You took a stand. Or you had the courage to JUST walk away. And you realize, in so many ways you were stronger than you ever thought possible and all the other things, the uncharted, discolored moments fall away.
No regrets.
And then something happens. And you know, beyond any doubt, that YOUR happiness depends on your willingness to walk away... your desire to become the bigger, more beautiful version of yourself. And without it, love cannot survive.
Footprint in front of footprint you step, as if outside of yourself, and you take that unknown, uncertain, fearful step forward and realize that only FAITH and HOPE allow you to courageously move forward. Faith that what you desired, long before all the other nonsense took precedence, will carry you to a place where the light shows you the way. And a hope that you deserve happiness, love, joy and a life as you always dreamed it to be. And so you allow these two untangeable emotions guide your heart forward and you know, in your deepest of places, that it will be better.
Sometimes that which we initially see becomes less of what we desire. Because it looks different. Perhaps it disappoints. it is not at all what you thought it would be...look like...feel like. And you feel disenchantment toward it - a kind of resentment maybe. And you realize how it hardened you. But, after the clouds part, you see that it also propeled you into a place you may have not even thought to consider and doors open and you see, with a sense of relief and joy, that it is EXACTLY where you were meant to be.
The strength from that realization roars again inside you. And the beauty of the emotions you passed through to get here save you. They remind you that you are utterly, 100% human. Fallible. Strong. Capable. Unwavering.
And when you look back at the end of your life, these are the defining moments. You stood up. You took a stand. Or you had the courage to JUST walk away. And you realize, in so many ways you were stronger than you ever thought possible and all the other things, the uncharted, discolored moments fall away.
No regrets.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Paying it forward...
Dressed handsomely and possessing an amazingly charming air, he sat down next to us at the mahogany bar. I remember saying to myself that he was hubba hubba for an older guy - in the same genre of Michael Douglas and Kevin Costner perhaps. Being avid foodies and self-proclaimed wine-lovers, we had chosen to have a decadent dinner at one of the city's best restaurants during the infamous "Restaurant Week." It is not uncommon for us to willingly lay down a few bills for a nice dinner but we had not yet been able to afford this particularly special restaurant yet and decided to have a seat at the bar.
As we looked over the menu and sipped some bubbly, we discussed our dinner selections and listened, half-way mostly, to the sommelier and bartender converse with the sexy man at the end of the bar. He just had an air about him that commanded not just respect, but love and admiration. He shook the hands of the servers and managers alike....winked at the chefs in the kitchen. He hugged the women and told them about his sons, who were apparently regulars. I couldn't help but be intrigued about his life...what he must do, what he has experienced, how beautiful his wife and children must be...
And then, my own handsome man almost spit his sparkling wine out his nose as he watched the sommelier present a bottle of wine to the monsieur next to us. With effort, he turned to me and under his breath told me that the wine is a 1997 Baron de Rothschild Bordeaux, valuing at least $1500. We both smiled. After a minute of consideration, I turned back to the cutie next to me and said with a smirk, "so...here's the deal..." and then I smiled, he smiled back, knowing exactly where my train of thought was heading...and to which he replied, "o,k but what do I get out of it?" Jokingly, however, we both knew that such a bottle of wine indicated so many many beautiful things, including that the man was willing to spend more than our rent and bills on a bottle of wine. And instantly, we adored him too.
Somehow my charming man introduced himself to Scott. I don't remember the details of the beginning of our conversation with Scott, as I was awaiting the foie gras with a certain, how do you say, impatience, but I do know it included food, wine and a little banter about local restaurants. At some point, Scott offered us a taste of the infamous wine and we graciously accepted and toasted. I silently toasted to Scott...to his generosity and obvious ability to understand how to truly enjoy moment by moment. As he got up to step out, I whispered to my man, jokingly, " switch the decanters!" And as we chuckled, I said, "that man inspires me. He exudes such humbleness and love and yet, power and wisdom." And to that, my man says, "this is a defining moment for me. I may never have another opportunity to taste such a wine...they say most wine lovers remember "that one bottle" that changed everything. This is THAT bottle!"
It occurred to me that true success comes in a person's ability to relate to people - on all levels -and remain humble. I've always wondered what it was about those people who seem to have the admiration of everyone they meet - those people you like immediately but aren't sure why. Scott ended that mystery for me that night.
Scott showed us photos of his adorable children whom he now needed to meet with so they could build the Eiffel Tower out of Leggo's. He still had half a bottle left of the amazing wine and as he left, that lovely man told the bartender to pour it into our glasses so as not to make it difficult for the staff to decide who gets to drink it. Our jaws dropped. WOW! SUCH generosity...such love. We still had our "measly" $60 bottle left and although it was amazingly good as well, we both toasted again to Scott, and allowed the silky memorable wine float through us. Then to top it off, the famous head Chef of the restaurant came to us to ask if he could try our wine...another beautiful surprise. We swooned from all of the good fortune as we drank a cup of coffee and port and considered our chance encounter.
As the time came for us to go, we asked for our bill. I headed to the bathroom and when I returned, my man was speechless. He just handed me the bill. I didn't get it at first but after the shock wore off, I saw that our lovely dinner partner Scott had bought our dinner. As I write this, I have the same amount of disbelief, love, and awe....the same tears in my eyes. NEVER have I experienced such an expression of generosity.
And then my lover turns to me and says, "thanks to the woman at the register hours ago who generously handed you her gift card with 17 cents remaining!" An act that unconsciously led us to later pass off our parking sticker that had a remaining 45 minutes on it to the girl pulling into our parking spot. What a lovely example of paying it forward...and how LUCKY are we that we were the lucky recipients of the generosity of the sexy man at the end of the bar of my now-favorite restaurant.
Can life be more beautiful?
As we looked over the menu and sipped some bubbly, we discussed our dinner selections and listened, half-way mostly, to the sommelier and bartender converse with the sexy man at the end of the bar. He just had an air about him that commanded not just respect, but love and admiration. He shook the hands of the servers and managers alike....winked at the chefs in the kitchen. He hugged the women and told them about his sons, who were apparently regulars. I couldn't help but be intrigued about his life...what he must do, what he has experienced, how beautiful his wife and children must be...
And then, my own handsome man almost spit his sparkling wine out his nose as he watched the sommelier present a bottle of wine to the monsieur next to us. With effort, he turned to me and under his breath told me that the wine is a 1997 Baron de Rothschild Bordeaux, valuing at least $1500. We both smiled. After a minute of consideration, I turned back to the cutie next to me and said with a smirk, "so...here's the deal..." and then I smiled, he smiled back, knowing exactly where my train of thought was heading...and to which he replied, "o,k but what do I get out of it?" Jokingly, however, we both knew that such a bottle of wine indicated so many many beautiful things, including that the man was willing to spend more than our rent and bills on a bottle of wine. And instantly, we adored him too.
Somehow my charming man introduced himself to Scott. I don't remember the details of the beginning of our conversation with Scott, as I was awaiting the foie gras with a certain, how do you say, impatience, but I do know it included food, wine and a little banter about local restaurants. At some point, Scott offered us a taste of the infamous wine and we graciously accepted and toasted. I silently toasted to Scott...to his generosity and obvious ability to understand how to truly enjoy moment by moment. As he got up to step out, I whispered to my man, jokingly, " switch the decanters!" And as we chuckled, I said, "that man inspires me. He exudes such humbleness and love and yet, power and wisdom." And to that, my man says, "this is a defining moment for me. I may never have another opportunity to taste such a wine...they say most wine lovers remember "that one bottle" that changed everything. This is THAT bottle!"
It occurred to me that true success comes in a person's ability to relate to people - on all levels -and remain humble. I've always wondered what it was about those people who seem to have the admiration of everyone they meet - those people you like immediately but aren't sure why. Scott ended that mystery for me that night.
Scott showed us photos of his adorable children whom he now needed to meet with so they could build the Eiffel Tower out of Leggo's. He still had half a bottle left of the amazing wine and as he left, that lovely man told the bartender to pour it into our glasses so as not to make it difficult for the staff to decide who gets to drink it. Our jaws dropped. WOW! SUCH generosity...such love. We still had our "measly" $60 bottle left and although it was amazingly good as well, we both toasted again to Scott, and allowed the silky memorable wine float through us. Then to top it off, the famous head Chef of the restaurant came to us to ask if he could try our wine...another beautiful surprise. We swooned from all of the good fortune as we drank a cup of coffee and port and considered our chance encounter.
As the time came for us to go, we asked for our bill. I headed to the bathroom and when I returned, my man was speechless. He just handed me the bill. I didn't get it at first but after the shock wore off, I saw that our lovely dinner partner Scott had bought our dinner. As I write this, I have the same amount of disbelief, love, and awe....the same tears in my eyes. NEVER have I experienced such an expression of generosity.
And then my lover turns to me and says, "thanks to the woman at the register hours ago who generously handed you her gift card with 17 cents remaining!" An act that unconsciously led us to later pass off our parking sticker that had a remaining 45 minutes on it to the girl pulling into our parking spot. What a lovely example of paying it forward...and how LUCKY are we that we were the lucky recipients of the generosity of the sexy man at the end of the bar of my now-favorite restaurant.
Can life be more beautiful?
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