“Can we move on?”
He makes a goofy half smile and shrugs his shoulders
I can feel the heat rising in my face.
“Not yet? Your face is getting all red.” He says.
‘Fuck, now it’s going to get worse’, I think. And then it happens, my whole body is flushed.
I think about his question and tears begin to sting the back of my eyes. My heart raises in anxiety and I want to blurt out, “I really loved you! The problem, is that I really loved you and you just broke me so deeply!” But I don’t. I can’t admit to that now, can I? Can it be that after all these years and the clearly apparent,’ we are so wrong for each other’ sentiment that I still have some love for this man across the table from me? Please note the fact that I have a child with a different man. The man of my dreams whom I love in a way that is sturdy and brave and true. But if I am being honest, there is a bit of my past that still sticks in my heart.
There is no more animosity. I no longer feel hatred or burning anger. Instead I feel a sheepish desire to root for him and support him and be his cheerleader. As I drive home visions of a rainbow coalition photo shoot with our whole mixed up, re-married, half sibling family dances through my head. ‘We should probably send that shit to Oprah,’ I think. The New American Family: 6 kids, different last names, all love. But is it?
My spiritual seeker side wants there to be only love and no skepticism. In fact, A Course in Miracles teaches us that there IS only love. That our true nature and highest self is only love and that it is the construct of our minds that tells us we are anything else but. However, I am nervous. I am nervous to commit too fast and too heavily to this new form of belief in him. To this new form of faith and trust. Because that’s how it started last time. The right words were said, pictures were painted and musical sweet dreams were sung to me as I drifted into the land of sleepy wistfulness. And then I got hurt. Even saying it now brings a heaviness to my heart and sadness to my eyes.
I know that I am capable. Shit, after the things I have been through (and we’ve all been through some shit haven’t we?) I know that I can and will survive no matter what the circumstances. But these days it’s not just about surviving. It’s about evolving to my highest vibration and teaching those around me – especially the little 9 month, 5 year and 12 year old hearts that live under my roof – how to be your best self. How to thoroughly believe, scratch that… KNOW that you are magical and powerful and just oh so full, exactly as you are. No special diets, clothes or significant other’s needed.
Full. Complete. Whole. Holy. Just as is. We all are.
So if that is the case, then it means that this man is as well. And I’ll buy that. Sure. I really do believe that he is magical and powerful and Holy, just like the rest of us. But how do I let my physical apprehension blend with my spiritual indoctrination? Honestly, I’m not totally sure. I just keep trying. I keep seeking and praying and practicing that ONLY LOVE is the way to my best self. Forgiveness. Love for others, love for my own human and love for the process. It’s not always pretty and usually the really good stuff starts out as pretty painful stuff, but when we do our own work, we are better able to be a witness to others’ process. And really, we all just want to be seen. [tweetthis twitter_handles=”@livvyahalliday” remove_url=”true”]When we do our own work, we are better able to be a witness to others’ process. And really, we all just want to be seen.[/tweetthis]
So, man across the table from me, I see you. I thank you for helping me become the woman I am today. I hope the same for you and I wish you…