So, ten months into 2012 and I don’t exactly know how I got here. I mean, I know the steps it took to get here, the heartache, the letting go, the broken hearts, the tears that sometimes seemed endless as old wounds reopened and I broke down again and again and again, and the laughter that would come up unexpectedly, like a flash of rain. There were the verbal punches in the gut, followed by the very real and very physical hugs, the people who I used to walk with, the ones who walk with me now and the ones who I will walk with in time to come. There is love, an abundance of love that entered when I let go of the belief that I was only loved when one man chose to love me and that my love was to be hoarded for my family, my lover, his family and the family we would one day have together.
To say that it has been easy so far would be a lie. It has not. Change never is. It is this fucking messy, gritty process that allows you not a moment of peace. There is all this doing, adjusting and moving, always moving. So much moving that sometimes you just want to give the world the finger and tell them all to leave you the fuck alone. The place that you currently sit in suddenly becomes uncomfortable. Relationships become uncomfortable. Sometimes you save it by each doing your own thing. Sometimes doing your own thing signals the end of a relationship and you have to make a choice between the relationship and yourself. And you will. And the choice you make will be the right choice anyway.
Take it from an expert at self-medicating (self-destruction?), sometimes there is a desire to do just that – get trashed, numb things down, inhale a carton of smoke, find a beautiful, drunk, young (like 10 years younger kind of young, and I’m 32 so 10 years is legal) boy to play with knowing that after that I’ll be dealing with some emotional complication to further distract me. Anything to take me away from sitting here in this restlessness, feeling something inside me expand but not really having the space for it to go anywhere. And then you wonder, what the fuck the point of this whole thing is, and why can’t anything just be easy? But then you realise that easy was never your style.
I recognize this feeling. It’s the feeling that pushes you to make decisions because you feel that something is going to happen, but it’s taking so long to happen and you just want to move it along. It’s this feeling that makes you believe that your life is at a standstill while people are moving on and moving forward; relationships, families, jobs, houses, commitments and more commitments, and you want to move forward, but not in the same way. Still all you want to do is move, move and move.
And then what happens?
You are still standing here at the edge, but it’s not yet time to step into the other side. And sure as all hell, you are frightened because you don’t know what the fuck else the world could throw at you next. All you know is that you can’t go back to where you were. That space is no longer yours. That love has dimmed, taken over by a bigger and brighter love, a love so vast it is not for a person. It is not easy, smooth or safe. It breaks into your heart and wants to know all of you; your body, your heart, your soul, every thought that hides in your mind, every secret you kept from past lovers. It wants to get behind the doors that you have managed to hold shut all this while (it’s MASSIVE, ya dig?), but right now, it is holding you still, in place. You’ve jumped off one ledge but you haven’t landed on the next and you don’t know if you can reach it. It’s fucking scary and the fall looks fatal. Still, you have no choice but to wait here. The footprints left have been washed away by the rain and you wouldn’t know how to walk back anyway. The light that was left on has long since burned out. There is only the waiting for the next step now.
What else could you possibly do to speed up this process? Perhaps it’s time to do nothing. Perhaps it’s time to let all the things you’ve overlooked while you were busy doing, catch up with you finally. It feels like giving up, and it feels like you’re letting go of your power. I know that after a lifetime of chasing and doing and achieving, this is unnatural to me, this sitting and waiting. Honestly it makes me want to scream at the world, but what else is there to do? The universe is bigger, and what comes, when it comes and how it comes, is sometimes more than a human can comprehend.
Things happen when they happen. No amount of analyzing, enquiring, screaming, drinking, fucking, or fighting can change that. So perhaps, you, me, and the other doers in the world need to just take a moment, and take a breath. Maybe we don’t need to know where we’re going. As scary as it is, nothing’s going to happen until it happens and you don’t know things until they’re ready to be known. So go for a walk with a friend, exchange hugs, and somehow and someway, learn to let go of doing, and just be…