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One Moment In TimeTuesday Blog Walk: Ben made us pick a moment that irrevocably changed our lives...
This is a difficult task because I have three defining moments that spring immediately to mind (and there are more). Given the space, I will claim them all, name the three, but elaborate on only one. September 3, 1993 - the night I concieved my daughter. October 1, 1993 - the test came back positive and I laughed and clapped and knew I was going to be a single mom.
But the moment I want to dwell on is the one that has been instrumental in shaping my Life. It was the first time I ever heard the voice of God. Not some God on high who burns bushes and gets Moses' attention. No this was a quiet simple God, one which knew the way to my heart and Spirit.
It was 1988 and I was riding a wave of success on Wall St. and every other aspect of my Life. I was cute as Beyonce (though not as tall), had a job that paid more then twice my age (in thousands of dollars) and a clear promotion path, I was married to a dentist - what more could a girl ask for?
As a financial analyst and troubleshooter, I was responsible for ensuring that many of my bank's most sophisticated products (at the time) were properly booked in our domestic and overseas offices. It was fun, but it was also a battlefield. I could feel pieces of myself slipping away, but I didn't know what to do about it. I started looking for another job, a better job. I did the interview thing at a few brokerage houses and other clearinghouse banks. But, I was always overqualified based upon experience and underqualified based upon certification (I kept hesitating re: acquiring a CPA). I enjoyed the problem solving, but I had this nagging feeling that I wasn't making a contribution to the world.
I was married, but I don't think my husband really liked me. We both thought it was important to be married, but we just shouldn't have been married to each other. He wasn't a BAD man, but to me he was overbearing, dominating and had to be in charge. I could recite all the big and little hurts, but it was a long time ago and we were doing the best we could. At the time, I held it all in, and I smiled for all the world to see. Honestly, I smiled and pretended to MYSELF that it was real.
So, imagine my surprise, while sitting at my desk one fall day, finishing up a report, I hear whispered oh, so close to me, "mediocrity".
I shake my head and think that was odd. I review my Life chapter by chapter and decide I've pulled the brass ring - I've got it made in the shade, so this whole mediocrity thing is just some blip in the Universe.
Two or three days later it happens again. It's as if someone is speaking to me but, I'm in my office alone. It's not the sound of the narrator who thinks in my inner voice, this is a different voice and I feel compelled to listen. Mediocrity, mediocrity, mediocrity. And I know that's me and I know that no matter how much I have it's not worth giving my Life for. I can't escape the question of my Life, its purpose and its power. I can't escape the truth any longer.
So, it took four months and a brief affair with a man that I am still blessed to Love as a friend and I leave the husband and go back to school while working at the bank part-time. Can you believe it? The first part-time Assistant Vice President! It lasted about 18 months before the bank was acquired by another and I was "separated" from the institution. LOL. I was canned, let go, fired. And it was okay with me.
It took 14 years before I signed up with another regimented organization and it's interesting that I came full circle when it was my time. Time to learn new things about myself and the world around me. But before that...
The ways in which I changed, those many years ago, the parts of myself that were allowed to grow and flourish when I decided that I could not live with mediocrity, those are the things for which I am so grateful.
I didn't get rich, I didn't stay married and didn't slip into mediocrity. I'd say that was a moment worth remembering. This Sunday MorningI've gotten more than a few complaints about the Media Player on the site. I apologize to all who had to struggle to get here. I've taken it down, for now. I'll figure out what the issue was and try it again soon. I Loved the idea of music on the space, so anyone with suggestions, feel free to post a comment or link to help me out.
The Best of MSN Spaces is over, our Jorge got much exposure and I hope some new friends will come by and read his site, regularly.
Last but not least, I can't close out without giving much Love to my little one. This week she performed a dance in the school talent show, took a medal at the state debate championships!!!!! And then we came home to find a 4.0 report card.
Take it light...
Gayle The ObligationJorge is up for Best of MSN Spaces - Who Knew? Not I (b-t-w, vote for him). He has a really thought provoking blog on voting. I responded quickly on his space, since I was dashing off to pick up my precious child from school. The entire ride there (which is about 20 min) I thought about his blog and my response. So, I decided to copy my response and elaborate on it a bit.
The enormous amount of apathy and (worse) resignation in this culture frightens me. So few of us get involved with, well, with anything. This week the Today Show did a piece showing a young girl, about 11 or 12 years old (my daughter's age) being abducted. With the exception of two young, black men, everyone just watched. The girl screamed, she shouted for help, she shouted "STOP, LEAVE ME ALONE - LET GO OF ME" to the man dragging her. People looked on, concerned, horrified even; they stared and kept going.
All except the two young men, who were walking together. They never said a word to one another, looking at each other, they turned toward the man and the girl and ran at him from different angles (so it would be harder for him to get away). Luckily for him, he was staging the abduction so that people could see how they might react if confronted with that situation. He wanted them to be thoughtful about the situation, so they would know what to do.
Even as I watched in disbelief (before I realized it was staged), I wondered what I could do. He was a big man, he could have hurt me. About 10 seconds in I realized that I walk with a cell phone and I could make a call. I could dial 911 and shout for help, I could be heard, even though I'm just one person in a crowd that's watching.
And that was a round about way of bringing us to Jorge's question of "To Vote, or Not To Vote?"
I have voted in every major election since I was of age, and have missed local elections only twice, when I was sick. Yes, it's too true that there is no one worth voting for, no one who is honest or gives a genuine care for the people. But, my people (and maybe yours) thought the right to vote was so important that they risked/gave their lives to make it possible for me to cast my vote. I knew that clearly when I lived in NYC, I know it intimately now that I live in the south and the birthplace of Martin Luther King, Jr.
It's really not good enough to say it all stinks and throw up your hands. It's way too easy of an out. H*ll, Life freakin' stinks, but we go on, we find purpose and create ways to have a voice in our own lives. We figure out how to take our stands and we make our peace with those things that seem too difficult to bear.
It's a part of growing up to come to understand that Life is both less and more than we had imagined. People we Love will disappoint us, so you just know that virtual strangers, with high needs for power, will surely break your heart. We are complex beings; good and bad, right and wrong, perfect and imperfect. Each and every one of us. No one gets a pass. Politicians, (well you all know that I have little use for them or their brand of truth) often push the boundaries of integrity, to their detriment. I can't stand that, but we live in a world where they have influence and we co-exist with them, like it or not.
Now, I don't kid myself into thinking that I have much influence. But I have my energy, my truth, my moment of casting that ballot that says "I AM HERE". Not because my being here will change the world, but because my being here makes me part of the world, this world. And I have an obligation to those with whom I share this planet to stand in my spot and speak. To use my voice (and my vote)when things are wrong and when they are right. I have an obligation to stand up and be counted, because so many who stood before me were cut down (they knew they would be), and they stood up strong. I have an obligation because so many in this world cannot stand or speak or they will be cut down. (And, if you know me, you also know that that was NOT an endorsement of our latest war. I am, unequivocally, a pacifist.)
And, I know (I am fully aware) that there are realities which have been exploited by politicians. Realities that allow women's genitals to be mutilated, baby girls to be left to die, children to be sold into slavery, women to be raped, men to be separated from Loved ones to work for subsistence wages, genocide to be committed, lies to be told, profits to be made. There are realities that we, as Americans do not have to face - like gasoline prices at $5.00 a gallon, or $100 US being a year's worth of wages. We have XBoxes and complain when we can't get XBox 360s fast enough. Flat screen TVs, SUVs, all manner of high priced non-necessities, including this internet connected, high priced laptop I am typing on right now. We have so much, not the least of which is our right, our privilege to be heard.
So, it is not a small thing, to have the privilege of voicing your truth and not use it. It's a damn big thing.
Go vote when the chance comes; in an election, for an MSN Space, against the abduction of a child. When the chance presents itself, vote. Do it because you are here, because you can and, because we need to know where you stand. In this fragile, interconnected and interdependent world, we need to hear your voice.
Take it light...
Gayle Flat on My BackOkay, this could be a blog about sex, my need for it and lack of it - or better yet, my getting it after such a long time (though I'd rather not be flat on my back for that, now that I think of it)!
Instead, I find myself in said position (laptop propped up on my tummy), prescription drugs less than an armslength away, and a groan escaping from my lips every now and again. I've pulled every muscle in my lower back and each of them is cursing me, laughing at me, as they obtain their revenge for my neglect and thoughtlessness.
Last week, 3 people, count them, 1-2-3! at different times, told me I looked so much younger than my almost 50 years. They marveled at my enthusiastic and voracious desire to learn, to have fun and to be silly. Not a day over 37, one of them said. I, in my foolish disregard for Murphy and his ruthless laws, took it to heart. "I am young" my heart shouted!
Monday morning I reached down under my bathroom sink, and on the way back up something went 'pop'. I haven't been the same since.
So, I'm coming face-to-face with the grown-up idea of aging. Sh*t. This ain't what I signed up for, at all. I tried to go to the bathroom last night and it was hysterical. Actually, I didn't start to laugh until I realized I couldn't wipe myself. For some reason that was funny to me. I tried every slight variation I could find, but as soon as I got close to my *ss the pain started. It felt like shooting stars through the lower half of my body. Eventually I decided I couldn't sit there all night and I couldn't go back to bed with sh*t on my bottom. So, I toughed it up and took the pain. Thank God I didn't get stuck in that position. You'd think that would wipe the smile off my face wouldn't you (no pun intended I swear)? But, 5 seconds later, after the waves of pain had passed, I was confronted with my pajama bottoms and the impossibility of pulling them up.
Yesp, I stepped out of them. I managed to navigate myself back to the bed, holding the wall the entire way and dragged my cold butt back into bed. And I mean that literally - I dragged it, cause I was done with inflicting pain on myself for the rest of the night.
I have new respect for those living with chronic back pain. It is like nothing I have ever experienced and that includes the aftermath of my C-section.
Doc says I have to rest, but can go out walking tomorrow. You bet, I'm on it. An easy, flat surfaced walk - no running, she said (not that there was any chance of that anyway).
Promise you this, next time I'm writing about being flat on my back sex will be involved- bet on it!
Go Easy... My Life In The MoviesThe Tuesday Blog Walk topic is
If they made a movie about your life which actor/actress would you want to play as your character. Also if you want, just for fun write a small scene that would be played in your movie.
Alfre Woodard. I don't have to ponder it at all. She is a strong actor with a great deal of depth and range. I have never seen a movie of hers where I did not appreciate her work. In case you are unfamiliar with her, here are some of her films:
She currently has a regular role on Desperate Housewives.
I've wanted her to play the main character in the story of my Life (you can see I've had visions of grandeur) for about 20 years. She looks like a real woman to me, not a hollywood beauty. I have nothing against the beautiful ladies of hollywood, but they are all wrong for the part of Gayle. I'd want someone I thought could "get" me, understand my ideas and choices in Life. An earth mother who's sensual, funky and a ittle prickly. Someone who can play several emotions at once, 'cause that's how I'm usually living.
Culminating Scene:
On a beautiful and almost empty beach about mid-afternoon. We see a lean woman jogging with her dog and a couple walking hand in hand. A handsome, tall, bald, and very sexy black man enters the scene. The camera follows his line of sight and we find our leading lady sitting in a beach chair, eyes closed, unaware that he approaches.
As we move closer we see she has been crying, her cheeks are wet/damp, but she seems to have fallen asleep. As he sits down next to her, she stirs awake. Re-adjusting her book and holding it close to her, like a shield, she looks at him -
Gayle: Laughing. The first beautiful man I see all summer and I have drool pouring from my mouth. Lovely. I'm Gayle. She brushes her face and mouth, looks at him intently, smiling openly and extends her hand.
Max: Smiling. Takes her hand and holds it for a moment in both of his, as he says I'm Max,sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I've seen you a few times at the Everyday Bookstore and I always wanted to say something to you.
Gayle: Oh yeah, I Love that place. There's nothing better than a summer afternoon in a bookstore. And Everyday has a great collection - you know, Baldwin, Allende, Gabriel Garcia Marquez - all my favorites. So, I spend a lot of time there. It's fine, I'm glad you stopped. Today was a day I needed a little attention. So, thank you. What takes you to Everyday?
Max: Well, it's the only good bookstore onthe island. My daughter told me to pick up a copy of "I HAd it All the TIme" and Everyday carries it. It's a sort of positive thinking, "i'm OK, You're OK kind of book. Not bad. She's my baby girl and since her Mom died, she tries to take care of me. Pause for a moment Would you like to have dinner? I mean, not tonight, if you don't want to, but ...
Gayle: Ok Max, I tell you what, tonight I planned to have dinner at that cute pink rstaurant on the beach
Max: Oh yeah, Winstons. He does a mean fire salsa. If you like spicy food you'll enjoy it. And he has a really good band come on at about 9:30. They have this eclectic sound, a litte jazz, a litte rock and a dash of R&B. You'll like them, I think.
Gayle: Sounds good, I've never been there before, but I promised myself that tonight I'd watch the sunset from their patio. So, if you show up at around 8, we can watch it together.
Max: Well, maybe I'll see you there. Flashes the perfect open smile and says I think today is turning out to be a stellar day. Take it easy, Gayle. Jogs off.
Closing scene: Camera pans the subtle and beautiful sunset from Winstons. We see the pink restaurant and the waves gently lapping the shore. The camera tightens on Gayle in a white cotton/silk dress blowing in the soft breeze. Her hair illuminated by the last rays of the sun, her lips moistened by her pretty orange drink (and a bit of hollywood make-up magic). Music begins to stir on the breeze, a soft jazz. A waiter comes out and we see them engage in a very brief conversation, but we don't hear their words. As the waiter clears her plate and silverware, we see Gayle rise. She is regal and self-contained. She opens the door, and we see her smile with surprise and delight. The camera tightens over her shoulder and we find Max, singing and playing at the piano, joined by a bass player, drummer and saxophonist . The song is Michael Franks "How I Remember You". Gayle plucks a flower from one of the table vases and lays it across the piano. The two smile at one another. Credits begin to roll. Sunday MorningHere, in the Southern U.S. spring is fully upon us. Birds are building nests (one of them is in my gutters and I'm going to make them homeless with my next paycheck), trees are blooming, the air has begun to warm and the days are perceptibly longer.
So, why is it that I am having the most intense nightmares? I've awakened angry or enraged at least 3 times this week. I can't think of a single thing that happened this week to set off a string of nightmares. I know my world is not the way I'd like it to be, but I'm not quite sure what the middle-of-the-night funk is all about. Clearly, there is more going on, because what I'm aware of is not the stuff of nightmares.
I'm going to do a little investigating today. Keep it quiet and thoughtful. I'm going to contemplate my inner life, maybe stroll through the park (if I can beat the rain) and see what turns up.
Later Gators. Spewing About the Death PenaltyOkay, well, I'm a little late with Ben's Blog Walk topic - Should the death penalty be legal?
If you've hung around this space for any length of time you know my answer - no.
Before my daughter was born I was steadfastly against the death penalty, even in the case of my own death. An eye for an eye had no appeal. After the precious babe entered however, something really interesting happened - I discovered that I was capable of incredible violence. All someone had to do was appear as if they might harm my babe and I was ferocious times a million, billion, trillion, gazillion (as she used to say). Still am.
But, having said that, killing another human being seems an out-of-control emotional response. As a culture we have been out-of-control regarding our predisposition to violence from the beginning. (I say we in a sort of tongue and cheek way). To me the death penalty is the ultimate pre-meditated murder. Folks sit around and discuss it, think "deeply" about it and then decide to kill their fellow human.
I don't subscribe to ignoring the horrors done by those who are condemned to death. Very often they have committed the unthinkable and made many innocents suffer. But, what do we gain by their death? It could not erase a moment of pain and eliminates the possibility of redemption. I think now of the former gang leader, Tookie Williams, who caused so much death and destruction in California and other parts of the U.S. And yet, he found redemption and began to counsel others, in earnest, about how and why to avoid the Life he lived. Seems counter-intuitive to kill such a being. I would want to study and understand his journey so that other lost souls might have a better chance at changing. Instead he is dead; killed because the Governor of CA didn't want it to appear that the state condoned or supported Mr. Williams' past behavior. ( I hate politicians - as a group I am deeply prejudiced against them - I am trying to get better.)
I won't get started on the death and destruction we have wreaked on the other side of the world because we sort of thought something bad might happen. But it's clear that this predispoition towards violence has bitten us in the *ss. We see it evident all across our nation. People hire killers to end the lives of their spouses, road rage turns our cars into weapons, children accidently kill and maim one another while playing with guns, children intentionally kill one another with guns, schools look more and more like prisons everyday, outfitted with bars and metal detectors. Intelligent men and women sit in jury rooms to decide the Life and death of others, because it's law. Yet, if I decide today that I would rather die than suffer the slow and painful death of an insidious and irreverseable disease, those who Love and assist me would be jailed for murder - because it's law. And, if a number of politicians and conservative thinkers (who are by-in-large for the death penalty) get their way, Roe vs. Wade will be overturned, because killing a Life is wrong. Huh? What's that?
So, it comes down to whose Life is it okay to end? Who gets to choose and who must obey? Who gets to pull the trigger legally (like the officer in CA, shooting the soldier who just returned from a tour of duty) and who goes to jail? We stand on a slippery slope, and many will argue that we must, or bedlam will result. Looks like bedlam and confusion to me, right now.
As for me, I am always awed by those relatives who tell the reporters with their cameras that they forgive those who killed or severely harmed their Loved one. Most of the time, they say it with tears in their eyes and the familiar swell in the throat. They say it in the midst of their pain and the reality of their loss. If I had to bear that kind of loss, I would hope to be one of them; to be a person who believes in the possibility of redemption, who prays and works for healing.
Some Folks Are Worth RememberingThis morning I am greeted by the moonlight;
its shadows seem to shine
in the soft early hour
and I think of you.
You, with the ever willing kindness and
commitment to good;
always remembering to share the joy
of your grandbabies.
Each story was like some sort of magic;
bringing their giggles,
proclaiming their triumphs,
and I couldn't help but share their
momma's pride.
You fed the hungry,
laughed with the tired and lifted the exhausted,
laid claim to what was 'right' in your heart
and lived it.
This morning I awoke with your Life on my mind.
Safe passage for your Spirit,
safe journey for your Soul.
I send prayers to light your way
and give thanks for your days among us.
Travel light, brother Michael.
My Perfect Perspective I've been trying to decide how to express my thoughts about perfection. Some folks thought I should modify the word or, expressed that it's not a word that they use to describe themselves. All that backing off from the concept got me to thinking - actually, it convinced me that maybe I was on to something.
I admit to being relatively shy about using the word perfect - at first. I had to swirl it around on my tongue, just a little. I needed to inhale its fragrance, laugh at its idealism and let the sound of it cascade through my brain, for a week or so, until I was ready to take it on.
But, having taken the plunge, I find the feel of it remarkable and I am staking claim to this new territory. However, I do understand the reticence and have been grappling with how to address it. Here goes:
The idea of human imperfection is as old as original sin, or perhaps some more ancient version of that concept. It means we are flawed, somewhere in our core, somewhere unreachable and can only limp along through this Life, carrying this burden as we go. Consider that, like a flat earth or a mechanical view of existence, it simply isn't true. What if we are perfect, and perfectly loveable, exactly as we are?
What if, the most important variable is perspective? I've been thinking of the earth as an example. Viewed in the midst of a hurricane, the aftermath of an earthquake or a tsunami and she might be seen as hostile, unforgiving and dangerous. Incorporating the knowledge of earth sciences, and we can see a miraculous system of atmosphere, ocean, land mass, creation and recreation. It doesn't make the reality of these phenomenon less intense or less painful, but it puts them (for me anyway) in a different perspective. A perspective that is larger than my immediate experience and subsequent emotions.
Now, the obvious difference between ourselves and the planet is that we humans have choice, aka, free will.
My mind tumbles a bit on that one and whispers, "hmmm, really and how does that change the fact that you are perfect?" So, I am lead to ask, Are humans separate from this ecosystem or a part of its simplicity/complexity? Is our free will an element of this miracle? I have no conclusive response to these questions because I am just engaging in the inquiry.
There seemed, from a few comments, to be an underlying sense that perfection meant static or inert. Some state that once obtained is frozen. I don't subscribe to that notion either. Life is change, movement, ongoing evolution. But evolution does not imply that what exists in an earlier state is somehow less worthy than later iterations or rife with imperfection. Evolution does not necessarily arise out of imperfection; perhaps it comes from the recognition of a need to adapt to new circumstance or variables in the environment.
I don't expect to be exactly the same in two years, two months or two days. Change is a part of the dynamic nature of Life and it is not the antithesis of perfection.
At any rate, I know I won't be giving up the perspective of perfect being anytime in the near future; the notion that there is nothing wrong, no flaws, no innate corruption of my self. It is lifting me, inspiring me and opening me up in ways that are new and exciting. It provides a perspective that brings more possibility in my Life, and you know I am oriented towards openning to possibility!
Lastly, this is a space where I explore my ideas and create from them. Feel free to ask questions or share your experiences, but I won't engage debate here. So, if you absolutely and completely disagree with what I'm writing, that's ok, but I don't feel compelled to know about it. You can write about it on your blog and leave me the link in a comment here. That way I get to choose if I want to explore your ideas. Seems fair...
Hey, I'm setting boundaries! Good for me!
Here's a little Love from me to each of you...
 Teetering, But I Refuse to Fall!Sometimes balance is an elusive whore;
sometimes there's no price you can pay for the thing you desire,
for it's not meant to be yours.
I walk the perimeter of my bedroom,
candles lit,
music softly pouring into the twilight, through my window.
I turn round to stare at the empty bed
and laugh
what's the point in railing against the Gods?
Besides, there's a little bit of whore in me, too.
No sleep tonight gents, but another glass of wine will do. Meditation and the MorningLife is good - breathe in and out - Life is good.
Gel asked for meditation how to's. There are a 50 ways to leave your lover and at least a million ways to meditate. I once read (though I forget the author) that mediation is about getting in the gap between thoughts and extending that gap, so that the mind is suspended and quiet, for a time.
Each morning, as set-up, I try to do the following 4 things: re-set the clock to sing again in 20 minutes, sit up comfortably - usually leaning against my pillows-body bent at a 90 degree angle, avoid focused thought and state my essential question. Then I usually employ one of the following possibilities:
There you have it. Mostly you have to be patient and not judge yourself. People think there's a right way and a wrong way. I say, whatever gets you in the gap. So, feel free to check these out, and/or create some starters of your own. Don't worry if thoughts come, just sort of watch yourself think and go back to your starting point. Be a gentle and Loving observer of your self and watch yourself meditate - without judgement! Let me know how it turns out. (Oh, and should you fall back to sleep; enjoy the extra 20 minutes)
Anyone with other suggestions for Gel please post them - come 'on, help a brother out!
Perfection Is, As Perfection Does...or is it As Perfection Thinks?In my quest to give up disappointment I started an experiment about 3 weeks ago. Every morning and every evening and 10,000 times a day in-between I ask myself "What if I'm perfect, exactly the way I am?" Sometimes I shift it to "What if I'm perfectly Loveable, exactly as I am?" I like these two questions.
Really, I Love these two questions because they do a few things for me. First, they short circuit the negative train of thought that I was on; which never serves me well. Next, these questions allow me, when I have a few minutes, to actually feel what that might be like. They let me float away to a place where I Love myself enough to feel at peace with me. Not that I run around in circles with angst about who I am, but I get to drop all my expectations of who I should be. I get to be the me that I am without self-doubt and insecurity peeking out from behind the curtain. It's freedom, for sure. Lastly, these questions let me paint pictures of an external world that finds me Loveable and whole and complete. Ahhhhhhh, feels good, don't it??
It would be like me to fantasize that my world would shift immediately and my what- took-you-so-long-to-find-me lover would come bursting into my Life, with a huge smile on his face, money falling out of his pockets (I know I'm not a material girl, but it's a fantasy and, since I'm perfect exactly as I am, I don't have to edit my truth), stars aglitter in his eyes, and, dare I say, tools that he knows how to use! (You can add the double entendre to that - and smile when you do!)
Needless to say, that hasn't occurred, but here are some interesting things that have:
And that, my friends, says it all. Take it light...
Fool's ParadiseI was reading the latest entry Under Brian's Rock and my immediate reaction was to leave a comment saying something like "Don't sweat it bro', he was a fool to walk away". But, as Life would have it, I quickly remembered that those words, spoken by my nearest and dearest friends, with the best of intentions, have never, ever, brought me comfort. I have never once agreed with them (though sometimes I'd pretend to, just because a wry smile seemed more appropriate to the setting than the tears I was crying in my heart). First off, because I don't suffer fools lightly, but more importantly because they were men that I Loved and who for the most part Loved me and I tend to see things as tragic rather than people as ignorant *sswipes (oops).
The beauty of Brian's writing, however, brought me back to a place I have been too many times and I'm thinking of revising my position to include the foolishness of others.
I could feel that breeze on my own face, holding my Lover's hand firmly ("I'm here", that grip says, "right by your side"), poised on the towering precipice, touching the clouds with my free hand. I am standing sure, as blessed assurance, that once we leap, we will fly, no matter the strength of wind or an approaching storm, it is what we are made for - to soar in Love and to triumph.
The anticipation of the leap is always difficult; the insecurity, the fear that wings may fail, but then the ultimate stand for Love takes over. That stand that swells from my belief in the place that lives deep within me, the part of me that is now and forever, the part that knows the truth of Love and will never deny it.
I take a deep breath and look with smiles and wide eyes at my Lover. Toes curled, he begins to count off "ready, okay, on the count of three; 1 --- 2 --- 3!" and feet shove off.
...The most horrific part is the feeling of my fingers slipping from his hand. The immediate knowing that I have stepped off alone, that all the promises may have been meant but, would not abide. How empty the sensation of flight without the one with whom you would share draft winds, providing rest in weary times for one another. How bitter the taste of rain when it fills the empty spaces instead of the beloved and expected sun.
And so, tonight I think these men, if not fools, were surely foolish; wasteful and even cowardly. How can one turn from the offer of real Love, from promises made by one who would keep them eternally?
Yes, I am too aware that Life happens. These guys weren't bad guys; still friends, we continue to Love one another, after a fashion. But, after Brian's blog, I cannot help but think of how I am soaring, alone, on the trade winds of Life.
May all your promises made be promises kept by Love and faith... |
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