I spent Labor Day weekend in Southern California. What an incredibly joyful weekend! I spent time with family, friends, and by my damn self. I return to the north refreshed, reflective, and centered. Certain that things will turn out just the way that they are meant to. Even if I'm not in control, even if I cannot see the path, even if I cannot determine the destiny -- eventually it will all move in the right direction.
Last night, upon returning to San Francisco, I spent time talking to several different friends. And through the conversations, I felt like each person held up a mirror to my face, and interestingly enough for me, I liked what I saw. And that was such a strange feeling for me, seeing as I'm not all that self-positive.
It was like a fun-house. There were mirrors of all different shapes/sizes; each of which were so different because my relationships and histories with each of the people are so different. Mirrors that reflected the past, present, and future... the practical/analytical and the emotional. And I woke up with a warm and fuzzy feeling. As well as a sore throat.
One person is a childhood friend who I haven't seen in at least 7 years, despite the fact that we currently live about 3 miles from one another. Our lives are just so different. Speaking to him reminded me of the alternative sacrifices we make for family; and how each of us has to balance the needs of the whole with the needs of ourselves. And in those moments where that balance gets out of whack, that we are challenged to rise above it... or slink below to escape. Anytime I talk to people who knew me from my childhood, I find that my mind and heart goes someplace different from my present day reality. It's a more emotionally complex place -- filled with love and agony. I can feel my body become centered, things get a little quieter. For those moments, all of my emotional controls are placed on pause and I just am. And yet, once I recognize I'm in that quiet place and begin to think about it... the more my mind and heart leave the space... and I return to the brain-controlled space of my present. And I return to joking and cynicism. But every time I let those feelings be exposed, I feel myself get just a little bit warmer from the experience.
Another person I was speaking to is a friend here in San Francisco. He has a "friend" (read, he himself, but is embarrassed to say so) whose girlfriend has left him. This was the first time he had been in love. He was willing to do anything for her. He was close with her family. He still is close to her family; in some ways closer than she is since he remains local to them. He had envisioned marrying her someday. So, the break-up is devastating. This conversation reminded me of my own break-up as a youngster. He wanted advice as to whether his friend should try to pursue her despite her needing a break. I tried to explain that he might be the most wonderful man in the world, and that she can see that but unfortunately, if she doesn't know how to reciprocate, or is not trusting enough of her own feelings and maturity within the relationship then there's nothing that can be done. He can try to get her back, but ultimately, that's not going to solve her underlying insecurities. I kept reiterating that I don't know the girl he's talking about. I was just speaking on my feelings. He asked me if I regretted leaving in my situation. I said of course I regret it. But when he asked if I would change the path that I chose, I couldn't say yes. Ultimately, it was still the right choice. And unfortunately, the right choice was the hard choice. The more risky choice. The more hurtful choice. Towards the end of the conversation, he said, "if he got a divorce you'd be right back trying to get with him, huh?" I paused. I've made it a promise to be as honest as I possibly could with him. And said, "had you asked me that question a year ago, even 6 months ago, I would have said absolutely. Today, no I wouldn't and I think that hurts worse." My responses seemed cold to him, irreconcilable, inconsolable, emotionless. In actuality, it's quite the contrary. I yearn to have the ability to love freely. Love in my life can be like a monsoon season, wild and unpredictable; but once the rains have come, life-sustaining and vital. Sure, being able to get bedroom loving could be nice. But, I'm not really interested in"dating."
Love excites me, gets my blood pumping, energizes me in incredible ways. Getting some of the regular means I am a little freer to laugh with friends and be comfortable in my own body. And for most of the 2000's since my last break-up, I've been in a protective love bubble. Afraid to be touched emotionally. I hear friends tell me that I deserve to be loved. That I am a diamond. I don't want to be sucked into the vortex of inertia as I felt has happened in my past. That is worse than me being a tornado. These past few years of bouncing around combined with the stability within my home life has been really enjoyable. But, this weekend it started to hit me that I'm about to have to be a grown up again in November. I like to go out and party. Every now and again, I tell myself I wouldn't die if I had to do the family life thing for awhile but, I also am not rushing toward that model either. Emotionally, it is draining in a whole 'nother way.
I'm happy that at 32 I have more knowledge, intuition and trust of myself. I don't know exactly what all of my needs are. But they are clearer.
Last night, upon returning to San Francisco, I spent time talking to several different friends. And through the conversations, I felt like each person held up a mirror to my face, and interestingly enough for me, I liked what I saw. And that was such a strange feeling for me, seeing as I'm not all that self-positive.
It was like a fun-house. There were mirrors of all different shapes/sizes; each of which were so different because my relationships and histories with each of the people are so different. Mirrors that reflected the past, present, and future... the practical/analytical and the emotional. And I woke up with a warm and fuzzy feeling. As well as a sore throat.
One person is a childhood friend who I haven't seen in at least 7 years, despite the fact that we currently live about 3 miles from one another. Our lives are just so different. Speaking to him reminded me of the alternative sacrifices we make for family; and how each of us has to balance the needs of the whole with the needs of ourselves. And in those moments where that balance gets out of whack, that we are challenged to rise above it... or slink below to escape. Anytime I talk to people who knew me from my childhood, I find that my mind and heart goes someplace different from my present day reality. It's a more emotionally complex place -- filled with love and agony. I can feel my body become centered, things get a little quieter. For those moments, all of my emotional controls are placed on pause and I just am. And yet, once I recognize I'm in that quiet place and begin to think about it... the more my mind and heart leave the space... and I return to the brain-controlled space of my present. And I return to joking and cynicism. But every time I let those feelings be exposed, I feel myself get just a little bit warmer from the experience.
Another person I was speaking to is a friend here in San Francisco. He has a "friend" (read, he himself, but is embarrassed to say so) whose girlfriend has left him. This was the first time he had been in love. He was willing to do anything for her. He was close with her family. He still is close to her family; in some ways closer than she is since he remains local to them. He had envisioned marrying her someday. So, the break-up is devastating. This conversation reminded me of my own break-up as a youngster. He wanted advice as to whether his friend should try to pursue her despite her needing a break. I tried to explain that he might be the most wonderful man in the world, and that she can see that but unfortunately, if she doesn't know how to reciprocate, or is not trusting enough of her own feelings and maturity within the relationship then there's nothing that can be done. He can try to get her back, but ultimately, that's not going to solve her underlying insecurities. I kept reiterating that I don't know the girl he's talking about. I was just speaking on my feelings. He asked me if I regretted leaving in my situation. I said of course I regret it. But when he asked if I would change the path that I chose, I couldn't say yes. Ultimately, it was still the right choice. And unfortunately, the right choice was the hard choice. The more risky choice. The more hurtful choice. Towards the end of the conversation, he said, "if he got a divorce you'd be right back trying to get with him, huh?" I paused. I've made it a promise to be as honest as I possibly could with him. And said, "had you asked me that question a year ago, even 6 months ago, I would have said absolutely. Today, no I wouldn't and I think that hurts worse." My responses seemed cold to him, irreconcilable, inconsolable, emotionless. In actuality, it's quite the contrary. I yearn to have the ability to love freely. Love in my life can be like a monsoon season, wild and unpredictable; but once the rains have come, life-sustaining and vital. Sure, being able to get bedroom loving could be nice. But, I'm not really interested in"dating."
Love excites me, gets my blood pumping, energizes me in incredible ways. Getting some of the regular means I am a little freer to laugh with friends and be comfortable in my own body. And for most of the 2000's since my last break-up, I've been in a protective love bubble. Afraid to be touched emotionally. I hear friends tell me that I deserve to be loved. That I am a diamond. I don't want to be sucked into the vortex of inertia as I felt has happened in my past. That is worse than me being a tornado. These past few years of bouncing around combined with the stability within my home life has been really enjoyable. But, this weekend it started to hit me that I'm about to have to be a grown up again in November. I like to go out and party. Every now and again, I tell myself I wouldn't die if I had to do the family life thing for awhile but, I also am not rushing toward that model either. Emotionally, it is draining in a whole 'nother way.
I'm happy that at 32 I have more knowledge, intuition and trust of myself. I don't know exactly what all of my needs are. But they are clearer.
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