Updated: Oct 12, 2020
Good Lord it’s been an emotionally difficult day. Who am I kidding? It’s been nigh on two seasons of emotional difficulty. February, a known month for the winter blues, started the experience. By the end of March, the man I really thought I would be going the mile with, the man that I envisioned creating a beautiful home/sanctuary with, the man I thought would journey with me into the cycle of life/death/life said “NO!” No, I don’t love you that way. No, I don’t want you more involved in my life. No, I don’t want you to move in with me. No. No. No. I was faced with the proverbial, “He’s just not that into you.” Ouch! Hard to argue with “No,’’ so, together we packed up my things that had made their way to his home, and I left.
Suddenly I was fun again. I guess not having any skin in the game is comforting for some people. At any rate, we tried our hand/hearts at being friends – right out of the gate of a break up. It worked for a spell. However, for me, I was very aware that I still held to the hope that there would be yet another reunion of the hearts. It would have been round 3. Nothing much changed in our friendship attempt. We still hung out on Saturdays, we just stopped having sex.
And then, it happened. I witnessed this man exercise more, stick to his new diet and begin deep work into self-awareness. All without me. This pained me deeply, because, during our time together, I had attempted to gently guide ‘us’ in those directions, and it just never happened. So, every time we came together as “friends” my heartbreak would just get reignited. Constant sadness.
During this phase of the breakup, Spirit had been trying to get my attention, for a couple of weeks, with the idea of taking some time to myself. I felt the nudge but chose to ignore it, as best as I could. And then, on May 31st I was at my favorite spot on Boulder Creek when I heard quite clearly, “and tomorrow you start.”
Incomprehensible demoralization had grown to such a pitch that I was in the right space to hear and take in the guidance. On June 1st I started a twenty-one day personal retreat. What became clear, in the first few days, was that this time away would be the first step in breaking an old habit this man represented. Spirit knew what I needed. I agreed to do the work. And, in a psycho-somatic sense, 21 days seems to be the time required when breaking habits. New game on.
Shortly after coming back into the flow of life, I realized a friendship with my ex-love was just too soon. I mean really, whom was I kidding? Making a clean break felt more aligned with self-care and Self-love. And I don’t know about any of you, but Self-love continued to be that ever-elusive quality that I thought I had, at times, when I really didn’t. How did I know that? Because, in hindsight, I could see that I was still giving my power away to the externals for self-validation and a sense of worth.
It had taken decades, but through the trails and tribulations, and the ups and downs of old programs formed from old belief structures a new quest had taken hold. That quest – Self-love! Finally, I had grocked the profundity of the sentiment that intimacy with life is an inward journey; and that externals only reflect this inner truth. Put on the big girl panties Sister!
Within days I was given my first opportunity to try something new. The ex texted and asked for a jacket he had given me to be returned to him. Within several heartbeats I felt the flush of anger. It was a vibrant energy that I knew instinctively was the proper emotion for this request. I allowed the wild woman within me to have its expression. I texted him three times with an eloquence of anger that was focused on my experience, as opposed to finger pointing. Success. Anger used well. In the end, I let him know, “ I’m keeping your gift to me.”
Whew! I felt like I had taken a stand on sacred ground away from the “people pleaser” motif. All to the good, I thought proud, and I was proud to be alive. But there was more to be discovered. Days later I got the nudge from Spirit to give the jacket back. No! I thought. I love that jacket. I’m not giving it back. He already knows he is not getting it back. Please! Not this! I went to bed resolved in my mind to keep the jacket. However, the next morning I awoke to the same nudge – return the jacket.
I put up a bit of a fight with Great Spirit and made my case as to why I wanted to keep the jacket. And then I said, okay, if you really want me to give back the jacket then you have got to make it really clear, because I am too emotional right now to hear you. Immediately I was shown vengeance. Sure enough, the quality of vengeance had entered into the “bomber jacket equation.” Me + bomber jacket = revenge.
Without question I truly loved the jacket. It had been given to me. And it looked fabulous on me! But, now that he wanted it back, I could see how vengeance had crept in. If he wanted it back and I kept it then maybe he would hurt as much as I’d been hurting. Fucked up right!?! My image of vengeance was of a sword through his heart. A metaphor for the experience of my heartache.
In that instant, I knew what I needed to do. I wrote a lovely note, grabbed the jacket, drove to his house and put the jacket with the card on a chair on his porch. And then I blocked him for a few days. I didn’t want to hear his voice or read a text from him. But, even more truthfully, I didn’t want to bear witness to the great possibility that he might not even try to connect to thank me.
Wounded pride, wounded ego, broken heart . . . I had to let Great Spirit do for me what I couldn’t do for myself, all through this experience. I had to break the habit. I had to find the trailhead to Self-Love. I had to put aside childish things. And, I had to let go of vengeance as a tool for my pain. Only a power greater than myself could lead me to that level of maturity. That Power was the clear voice within. So spot on that I can now say, perhaps for the first time, my thoughts, words and actions were in integrity. lol . . . at least for that act of completion. Onward and forward with the Wild!