So I’m pooing and as usual, all the deep thoughts happen here. My girlfriend says it is because it’s the time to remove the shit from our bodies, both the physical and the mental. My thoughts train trails off and I find myself asking if I believe in Love anymore. I know I do… I must… maybe just not the kind of Love I was/am in?
It was that fits like a glove kind of Love. Like my favorite pair of jeans, it was loose in all the right places yet hugged every one of my curves. Or that old sweater that is all stretched out and full of holes but you just can’t bear to part with it because it is so warm and just slipping into it on makes everything better. I wonder if the empty space in my heart will always feel so… empty, or if I’ll find the courage to rent it out to someone new.
I know this all sounds terribly sad, but it isn’t really. I’m actually very happy and satisfied with my life right now. I’m learning about myself in brilliant and exciting ways every day as I travel around the world. Life is pretty flippin’ great. But there is a vein of sorrow that runs through me. Like a river, there are many layers flowing together. Some go slow, some go fast and some are warmer than others. Most of my layers are flowing along nicely but there is one that is just a little sluggish.
I posted about this on Facebook and many folks offered words of encouragement or comradery. Someone said that maybe he was just more realistic about the reality of our relationship.
This is where I simultaneously lost my shit while gaining a shit ton of insight. I realize I’m not confused; I’m lying to myself. A friend recently ever so poetically told me, “Girl, it sounds like you dodged a real bullet.” It took every ounce of my being not to argue with him about that even though it is undeniably true.
My Ex was my Best Friend first. Three years before anything romantic was even a sniff in the wind, he was by my side. He saw me through my divorce and the line up of boys that followed. He disapproved of them all but I kept kissing toads, looking for a Prince, finding, well… toads. I never imagined he would be my biggest Toad to date.
Me: Dear Baby Jesus, Please let him be the last Toad.
Baby Jesus: Dear Jamie, Stop kissing Toads thinking they might be a Prince. There are plenty of Princes wandering about. You might have better luck checking near the castle.
Often times when we are on a Spiritual path, any Spiritual path, we are taught to be nice, be good and to think nice and good thoughts. Spread flowers throughout the World and you will get flowers in return. Oh, and if you don’t get flowers in return, then you must have picked someone else’s flowers in a past life, or as a kid, or in a dream once.
Fuck. Off. Think about it. What is more violent than covering up how you feel with some flowers and a Namaste? I mean really. I had a client ask me one day while he was getting a massage how he could keep negative emotions from sticking in his body but allow positive ones to stay. I had never thought about this before. Negative emotions were always something we just moved out while never considering the positive ones. For some reason this question came at me sideways and begged me to lift the curtain and see what was backstage.
What I found behind the curtain was that energy is just energy, thoughts are just thoughts, actions are just actions. They are neither negative nor positive in nature, WE make them that way by judging them and then WE create the dis-ease in our lives by HANGING ONTO THEM. Ignoring what you are feeling is tucking it into a dark pocket some where deep inside you where you “think” you won’t have to deal with it. What you are doing is planting a seed in a nice safe place and waiting to see what comes from it. One day some random thing is gonna break you open and that seed will see light and it will grow.
Being honest with your emotional state versus hiding it behind some flowers and a Namaste is like a controlled burn versus a massive forest fire started by a flash of lightning. One you are in control of while the other is luck. If you can be present with the emotion it will go through its life cycle.
You see it (seed)
You allow it (sprout)
You witness it (plant)
You let it go (compost)
This pattern might come up over and over for the same thing but each time you add to your compost pile and you become more fertile. If you hide it away, you never know when it is going to come up. When it does, you most likely won’t be prepared to take care of it. It’s going to grow wild, taking over the roses, the strawberries and before you know it, it has killed the entire garden. You are left with an empty plot of land and no compost.
I have daydreams about the day I see him again. These usually go the way of a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book. Except I cheat and read all the outcomes. The first involves us reuniting with joy as friends, enjoying a drink and falling back into our old friendly habits from before we were together; inside jokes, upsetting my boyfriends with our inappropriateness, a buzz of gossip trailing behind us. The other involves me telling him to go Fuck Himself.
I like to think that we could be friends. I miss him in my life every second of every day. I miss his laugh. I miss how the feeling of his eyes on me made me felt Seen. Really SEEN, like he could see into my past lives and Loved each and every one of them as well.
I would also like to think that I could tell him to Fuck himself, but I don’t think I could. I still want to protect him from the reality of my pain from his actions. That is violent to myself and to him. I’m still working on this.
Reality is somewhere between the two. I could never let him in again, I don’t trust him. I feel like someone who found that their Partner had a secret life only after they passed away. I’m full of unanswerable questions and though he is still alive to answer them, I can’t trust the answers. I don’t think he can either. This is my vein of sorrow. It catches me in moments of Laughter, of Joy, of Pooing… It is a feeling I have yet to find the right words to describe. All I can say is that I feel it in mySoul, as if all those past lives are grieving there right along with me.
This video is fabulous and it triggered me massively. It was like looking into a mirror, ignoring how fabulous I was and only seeing the pleading on the floor crying part. I’m working on honoring where I am and not letting my “off” days define me as well as seeing my beauty and strength in those “off” days.