Sands of Time

There are no wrong reasons to Love or to be Loving to another.
Even if we leave our heart on the doorstep and walk away
whether that be for a time or forever,
There is nothing but joy in doing so.
To feel otherwise, to look for reasons to regret Love
because we are not getting what we think we are due
from another does nothing but
tarnishes Love and what we feel.
Owning Love for ourselves is not the answer.
Rather, owning how we feel and not looking for
reasons to be resentful of what we freely gave
is the greatest gift we can give ourselves and others.
Today I know I am Loved beyond measure.
No matter what, that will never change.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with sex or lovemaking,
the joy of it or any lack of it.
It has everything to do with intimacy crafted between
them over time and with an extraordinary
amount of trust and caring and honesty.

I asked him how
to fall Out of Love with him.

He didn’t have an answer.

He’s always known
by the look in my eyes.

He sees more of me
than I ever planned to reveal.

I sometimes wonder
why he wants me around
feeling the way I do,
knowing the essence of me.

I sometimes wonder why
it serves me to continue.

So drawn to him this way
time after time.

Not like a moth to a flame
but a hummingbird
sipping sweet nectar.

When Love so deep
remains after all the
glitter fades
and the layers are peeled away
to the core of who we are,
perhaps it’s not really necessary
to Fall out of Love at all.

Again I find myself unsure whether to remain standing on the edge; poised and ready to jump, or run. Should I choose, there is tightrope in front of me…a path…my path? Will I have the courage to walk balanced precariously in the wind?Do I dare put my heart and soul into what I want?
Do I trust myself enough to take the risk?
I dare not look down….
this will either be the first or last post you read here
depending on where I can separate myself from reality and fantasy
of little girl dreams and big girl desires
of a 10 cow woman with a 10 cow guy….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am
the woman who slumbers
deep in your dreams

I am
all you desire
and all that you need

I am
a sharp gasp
knowing the power I possess

I am
the brush of a promise across your lips
the whispered breath in your ear

I am
slow moving tears
laughter of a child

I am
the sound of the surf
rocking you to sleep

I am
the wind at your back
the sun on your face

I am….
a song in your heart
a warm embrace

I am
ageless
timeless

I am
everything
and
nothing at all
waiting to awaken

I am
the woman who slumbers
waiting in your dreams….

It’s interesting to me on *how* relationships shift and change through time, but not necessarily *why* that change happens.  Sometimes the most subtle of shifts are the most profound and mean the most.

How we or others relate on any given day is largely due to pressure from the world around us. Perceived or otherwise, we allow it to influence us.

And then there are overall dynamics of “relationship”, or context of a particular relationship. Sometimes we can insulate the “outside” from the “sphere” of two. Most times I find that we cannot….

Sometimes things are out of context.  How we act with one person-even in an intimate relationship-is not how we act with another in an intimate relationship whether that be sex and a certain kind of kink, how we treat someone in daily life, or even the favors we are prone to granting one but not another…..

Just when we think we’ve got it down or “expect” a certain response, it changes yet again.

This change is what I’ve been waiting for, asking for, seeking…..

I shed alligator tears at the tenderness of the gestures, and in gratitude to know I am so loved and valued…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been meaning to tell you something.

Not sure how to say it……
I’ve recently noticed a pronounced difference in *how* you relate to me.

You’ve taken to acknowledging when I might not particularly want to do something
or hear something.

And it shifts any immediate or potential disappointment  on my part, (or any justification I *think* I might have, for that matter), because it lets me know you’ve thought about how I might feel in it all.

It allows me to hear and think about what you are really saying instead of hearing my disappointment over the top of your words whether I give it voice or not.

It gives *me* time to consider how important whatever it is in the larger scheme of things. Most of the time, it’s just not all that important.  And even if it was…well, there’s always another time.
It also (very nicely I might add) maintains your authority.

I’m pretty impressed.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I really appreciate this softness from you.
I need soft from you.  It opens a window to me being soft in return.

Thank you.

I wish I could shine that way for you…..

Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter.

We do have a tendency to over think things don’t we?

Revisiting the same issues over and over, continually dusting them off when some things should be left alone…left for the dust to cover them completely in some dark corner so to speak.  Or perhaps just put away for good.

Speaking as a woman, that is……

There are three kind of questions. One is transactional. We need not discuss this further. The second arises from the head. The third from the heart. Head questions are laced with skepticism, for they are based on comparison to prior knowledge. Heart questions are filled with wonder, for they are based on joy and enthusiasm. For the head, all things are suspicious. For the heart, all things are auspicious.

~Nithya Shanti~

My probing was soft and gentle. Not with the communication of “language” and “words” available to us.

It was a distinct impression……like the antennae of a moth or butterfly. Hovering…tasting…feeling the scents and the undercurrent to “hear” what he was saying. As if he were answering my questions not yet asked but present in my mind. ???

At the time, I realized the mood and the words and feelings behind the language. I knew what he was telling me, but I was not wholly aware of the “how” this functions for me until the next day.

It’s not in what was said…although partially this is true…but it was the tenor and smell and “feel” of what is both said and unsaid.

How odd to have this picture now after all this time. Wondering how it is I tune in to him. What is it that makes me sensitive and what it is he can feel from me. And now I know it’s been like this always for us…only he got it sooner than I did, much sooner….it’s how he reads me so well…….

Some can with ease, and some cannot.  I’m in the latter.  I never burn bridges.  I always leave the door open preferring to think, I may see you again, someday. I want that to be pleasant.  Not strained. No questions, but more of a seamless jump back to were were left off, but in the now.

We’ve been talking of late about those who add value to our lives and those who do not. Those who, if they disappeared tomorrow, we just wouldn’t miss their presence in our lives.

And I suppose if I think about it that way, as opposed to how I usually do (that of burning bridges or walking away with some kind of stress laid on the relationship), he’s right.  There are plenty. *shrugs*

And then again, there are plenty more who do not.

It’s caused me to re-evaluate some of those “friendships” and look at where I feel stressed or taken advantage of. Which ones contribute and which do not, and too, where I contribute beyond being convenient for someone else.

I was initially puzzled with this.  But it helped me yesterday to decide to walk away.  She doesn’t add any value to my life.  And honestly, I can’t see it going or growing anywhere.

Realizing this, I feel not just ok, but good.  Selfish even.  And that’s a good thing…..

I have no time for the mundane, for the victim, the drama, lies in the name  of being taken advantage of and manipulated….

from a few weeks ago…….

The cart went careening over the top of the stone wall

at breakneck speed.

I couldn’t stop.

I watched as I jumped from the seat

midway down.

As it crashed on the sidewalk below

I landed on my feet

off to the side of the wreckage.

Pausing a moment only to shake my head,

I walked away…..

energy
radiates
and
jumps
from the hair on his arm
as i move my hand slowly
from shoulder to fingertip

hovering
letting sparks
tingle
and
dance
about my fingertips

still coupled
he sleeps

my body shudders
at the touch
of no touch

my body convulses
again
and
again

only later do i wonder
if he feels this too….

he remarked some time ago that my eyes change when I speak from my heart
and I noticed the other day….
his do too.
they darken a shade
from blue to deep blue
lovely and ever so captivating
deep and languid,
much different than the bright sparkles they have
when he’s busting my chops about something or other….

why haven’t I ever tuned into that before now?

we spend our days
drawing lines in the sand
only to find changes
within and without.
the necessity of
redrawing those lines
is an effort
to fit with the world
and within ourselves.
changing desires
moods
ideas,
who can grow
with me to
such depths?

This post, the last e-mail, is only the beginning of another long journey inward….

A few weeks ago I received a call from my daughter.  She relayed the story of my ex, Ben, the man who raised her.   A man who I’ve had no contact with since 5 September 2009. A man who I asked for a separation in November of 2005.  A man who asked for a divorce a year later.  Those divorce papers were signed on my 50th birthday in 2007.

He is in a coma in a hospital in Tuscon.  A bicycle accident.  She was soliciting help to find some mutual friends of his as the bequest of his sister, Andrea.

I did.

It was over a week before his sister contacted me with the full story. I was starting to doubt if she would bother….We’ve had no contact since we separated almost 5 years ago.

The bottom line: he is in a long term care facility after having a car door opened in front of him while riding his bicycle.  They medically induced a coma because of the severe brain injuries he sustained.  He spent 3 months in Tuscon in a homeless shelter after moving there because of health issues related to a quadruple bypass the year before.

The prognosis for his recovery is this:  His recovery will be measured by his recovery.

He can perform simple tasks when asked….He can eat and feed himself and such.

He speaks gibberish.  He makes no sense.

I wonder if he knows…..if it frustrates him?

They say that the person who was may  not be the person who returns.

I wonder if he will return?

My daughter and I talked of the benefits of going to see him…and of the benefits of remembering someone as they were.

He was apparently trying to get back on his feet.  Counselors at the shelter helped him find a place and a small garage to work out of to fix cars so he could support himself.  He had a cell phone but no internet and no car; he emailed from the library and rode his bike.

They contacted Andrea after finding her listed as his next of kin at the address where he lived.  He was to be evicted for not meeting his rent.

The only reason my daughter was contacted was because when his sister plugged in his dead cell phone she saw the many missed calls from my daughter.  She was trying to get hold of him to see if he was going with her to the annual Pikes Peak Hill Climb event they went to for the past 18 years together.

My talk with Andrea that day was sweet and filled with love.

We both wonder the same thing.

What to do with it…..

And I wonder too,

What does forgiveness really mean…..

I really don’t know.

I don’t really feel one way or the other about this whole thing….