Digging

I know this guy. He’s a grown up man, actually. He’s an Aries, just like me. We seem to have very much in common, in a strange, inarticulate way. We seem to have some vibes going on between the two of us. In a strange, intimidating, inarticulate way, again. So… he really likes me. As a woman, I mean. And I really really made clear to him this is not gonna work. For I have this really complicated great loving relationship thing going on. With the man I have loved (and waited for) for the last five years. So me and Aries-guy? No chance, definitely.

But then again, I don’t mind seeing him once in a while. He makes me feel uncomfortable, but he’s very intelligent and challenging. It’s a thing I appreciate very much. Challenge. In all sorts of ways. (As long as I am in control and on top of things. So, actually, most of the time I just pretend to appreciate challenges.)

Today the two of us, we had one of these moments you only have with people, who you’re really close to. Nothing accidental. One of these moments, woven by God (or some kind of Universal Intelligence) himself. Not a romance moment. But a very intimate and extremely surprising moment.

I have never shared private details with him. We usually talk about literature and philosophy, subjects that guarantee a certain well-guarded distance. So, today, he looks me in the eyes and I hear him saying:

You are a very vulnerable person, open to injure. I don’t know how you can endure so much pain inside. This must be really hard on you. But, then again, you’re a masochist. I guess you like it that way.

!!!

Oh, how I got furious!  I closed myself up immediately. I felt he had violated my innermost sanctuary. ‘Cause, you see, pain is sacred to me and… who the hell did he think he was anyway?! I had a really strong reaction of rejection and resistance towards him. I spend most of my life hiding. Play the tomboy game. Cherish my pain (which… well, it’s real nonetheless). I won’t lose my grip on it easily. But I don’t want people to know this about me. It’s a secret. He had no right in saying this. He had no right to expose me like that. Although there was no one else around to see or hear. Or at least I felt he had no right. He’s not close to me. He’s not even a friend. Just some guy who seems to feel the vibes. I don’t care about those vibes. I got really scared and withdrew.

‘Cause it’s the f*cking truth.

In that tiny moment I was an open book to him.

And all the pain I use to speculate and manipulate,  it suddenly became alive. It became real, not a psychological device anymore, but incredibly sharp and vivid. Overwhelming. Like a Tzunami wave crashing on me.

And as much as I despise him for what he did, now I weep in gratitude.

He has achieved something my friends could never achieve. I know them too well, I have an in-built safety mechanism. They can never catch me by surprise. And when it comes to breaking destructive habits, there is nothing better than surprise. You can smash a nut only by hitting it really hard. Once. To get to the core. Filing the shell gently away takes a long time. I don’t have the time. I want a quality-life of genuine values. All the illusions have to go. You can’t pet your illusions and expect them to leave. You can’t hold them close and dear.

But illusions are treacherous. They hide behind the corner and wait for your awareness to wane, so they can come sneaking in through the back door.

There are times when a single second of painful surprise is worth more than many years of inner struggle. Because in this single second you are unprepared, unarmed, truly vulnerable. In this single second you don’t decieve yourselves. Which is all that counts.

God answered many prayers and send me an Angel to take care of the hard work. I couldn’t hit myself this hard, I would go easy on myself. Someone else had to do it for me.

I am overflowing with gratitude. And I feel great relief.

Sunday Scribblings ~ Ocean (A Love Story)

The sea, actually. In my case, the Black Sea.

It’s woven into my very first perception of abundant joy and life, unsophisticated and pure. And now, as I strive to write about it, all my senses get overwhelmed with the memory of it. I can smell the air, saturated with salt and iodine and the distinguished scent of chlorophyll from the algae. I can hear the waves, rhythmic, melodious, pulsatile… feminine. The tides of the ocean are driven by the gravitational interaction between the Earth and the Moon. In astrology the Moon symbolizes femininity, motherhood and care in the bosom of nature. I think it’s the healing forces of water I have felt even as a toddler, for I could spend hours and hours on end soaking in the warm shallows at the beach. In my own natal chart, there is very little water and I have always been drawn magically to every tiny brook, but more so to the wide space of the sea.

I have a very intimate relationship with the sea. One of mutual trust and love. We are always happy to see each other again. I am a pretty good swimmer and I have no concern when I head for a swim that the water will welcome and protect me and do me no harm. My mom probably wouldn’t double that, for she has spent many anxious hours of waiting for me to show up somewhere at the horizon. She can’t swim, so she’s sitting on the beach with her binoculars, staring at the mirror-like surface of the inner Black Sea. Waiting. Well, I guess that can be pretty arduous. It has never stopped me, though.

Lately I’ve been writing a lot about my inability to relax. Now that I think of it, that’s not entirely true. There are moments, unique moments of inner opening when I am completely gone. When there is no tension, no fear, no judgement, no longing. No questions, even. When there is no “me”, all alone, detached and frightened. It’s the time at the sea, in the sea that makes me realize the utter harmony and beauty of existence. It’s the sea that renders me soft and accepting, that soothes all my pains and negates my resistance. And it’s the whispering waves that evoke my true self to life turning me body-less, but with a heart overflowing with gratitude for the grace of God.

Nothing else has had such an impact upon me. And since I don’t live at the seaside, I travel each now and then, spontaneously, to meet the sea, my friend and lover. I have this urge inside of me, whispering in my dreams, telling me to get on the train! right! now!, which will eventually become uncontrollable and I will give in to it. At any cost. Anytime. For me there is no sea-season like, say, summer. To me there is no difference between December and July, both qualify perfectly for a trip to the sea.

I don’t need a *****Hotel. I often need no tent as well. My sleeping bag suits me well, it keeps me warm at night, but it allows me to sleep on the ground, where my breathing can adjust itself to the coming and going of the waves, to the rhythm of the Universe.

If you read the previous posts on this blog, you might understand better why this is so important to me. Almost every good thing in my life has happened in the close proximity of the sea. And it’s always nothing short of a revelation and a blessing. My very own love story.

(more sunday scribblings to enjoy here)