There Are No Obstacles, Only Options

I wrote that line today to my beloved who recently took his leave from my life.

I am thinking of how many times in recent weeks, I heard that from him, "There are too many obstacles." For him, this meant that we live thousands of miles apart. It meant that our lifestyles and work may be incompatible (however complimentary I believed them to be). And ultimately, that he wasn't feeling the strong desire to try to make a romantic partnership with me... because there were just too many obstacles.

In the six months since we were first introduced online (which, I guess, could be seen as an obstacle in and of itself), we spent long hours, days, weeks and months in conversation. I found him to be a very wise man, with beautiful philosophies (borrowed and his own) about life and love. A very positive person. A grateful heart, who embraced life, capturing its beauty with his unique talent as a photographer... his singular eye which seized such precious moments, to be admired and enjoyed by us all.

I remember when he first came to visit me three months ago, and we poured through slideshows of his work. My first impression was, "Wow - these are really beautiful!" As more and more kept passing on the screen, I thought, "How amazing to witness even ONE of these instances, let alone the hundreds and thousands he had!" Finally, it came to me, "What a blessed person he must be, how spiritually rich, to be God's eye, marveling in the glorious splendor the Creator has given us (which most of us fail to even recognize)." My impression of this man was that he was most definitely in the flow of life, supported by the universe, open to beauty and love and the positive energy of our world.

My heart and soul recognized him, then, as a kindred spirit, for although I had spent a long part of my life in pain and suffering, I had worked very hard in recent years to transcend my very own obstacles of mind and thought... and had finally landed on my true path, also in the flow of life, supported by the universe, living each day to its fullest, being of service to my community, tending to the work which is mine alone, dutifully and joyfully. For me, as we were exploring this new friendship, this new deep connection, this potential partnership, I saw no obstacles. I saw, instead, infinite potential.

I chose him. I chose to open my heart to him. I chose to trust again, despite the cruel betrayals I had suffered relentlessly in the past. But I chose differently this time. The choice would not be to abandon myself, my work, my life as it was for the love of this man... No! Far from it! My choice was to be open to him, to love purely with no demands, to allow our selves to be just as we are, and trust that everything will pan out exactly as it should.

If love is a bridge between two people, I had always walked over that bridge in the past, to the other side, to meet my love where he was at and join him on his journey. This time, I was clear: I would be willing to walk halfway up that bridge, and if he was willing to meet me there, together we could surmount any obstacles - time, distance, the logistics of life. There were no barriers in my heart or mind. Life is a myriad of possibility, and every option was open to us.

So, when he came for this long-awaited visit, and we reunited once more, I told him as much the very morning of his arrival. Although I was still not 100% about this romantic pairing, so far it had been 100% wonderful, and I was grateful to have this time with him, to open ourselves to the other, to continue the exploration, being present with one another as we did so.

Throughout the first week of his stay, I felt the walls around his heart, which hadn't been there when last we were together. I felt my own walls go up in response to it, and spoke to him about it, as we always felt comfortable to communicate all our thoughts and feelings. He agreed and admitted that his walls were up. "I just see too many obstacles," he said again and again. He didn't want a long-distance relationship, though I had never asked for one. He felt we were on the same path, but that I was on a speed train, while he was on a bicycle, though I had asked for no kind of declaration or commitment. I reiterated, my only expectation was that we would be open, relinquish our fears, and enjoy this time for what it was.

A week into the visit, he announced that he "just wasn't feeling it." He had no explanation. Despite our mutual connection, our passion, our admiration for each other and each other's work, our exquisite communication, our shared desires for life and love... He could only say that he wasn't feeling that magical elixir that would make him want to dedicate himself to me exclusively. Again, I hadn't asked that from him, but he felt it was my true desire... which, for him, was yet another obstacle.

What could I do? Nothing. I couldn't convince him to change his mind, and to be open again, and I was clear with myself that I wouldn't want to coerce someone into loving me. I instantly felt the loss of all the potential, as well as for our short-term plans... for me to come spend three weeks with him in his home, seeing his life, exploring more there. Ancient fears crept up in me as well: that old karmic pattern of being so loved and admired, but put aside time and time again. With so much beautiful potential between us, how could he cast it all aside?

Because he saw only obstacles.

The following week of his stay was a roller-coaster of emotions. I had been there before. Desperately trying to make sense of the illogical. Knowing that I was now at a familiar crossroads. In the past, I had followed the path which spiralled down into the deepest, darkest, scariest forest of my inner world. There, I had languished. I had deprived myself of food, and sleep. I had neglected the life above and around me, and my responsibilities, only making the climb out more treacherous and difficult and laborious. I had chosen the path of obstacles, and collected more and more of them on those dark journeys, from which it had taken years to truly heal and step back into the light of my life.

This time, standing at the crossroads, I looked down that shady road that called to me. I knew the way so well. There were familiar ghosts and demons in the underbrush that sang the haunting melodies of my deepest pain. They wanted me. They were hungry, and I had always offered myself as an abundant feast. My heart, which had been beating itself against my brittle ribs, desperately trying to escape the prison of my breast, pulled me towards them. If she couldn't leap from my body on her own, she would be most happy to be devoured once again.

But my mind said, "no." It was only a small voice in my mind. And I knew, I could not feel my way through it this time. I couldn't indulge my heart and consciously plummet into the abyss of misery. My mind said it again, "No!" I drew the attention away from the physical pain - the nausea of heartbreak in my belly, the headaches, the sleeplessness and fatigue. "NO! I SAID NO, GOD DAMN IT!" I liked this voice. I looked down the other path from where I stood, and above the demands of my mind, heard the most beautiful melodies, heard my father's voice, heard an eagle's wings flapping.

I saw there are only options. Choices. It would be my choice to rise, or my choice to fall.

I had been disappointed that the man I loved, whom I saw as someone so evolved and enlightened, had in truth been so very limited. Because of his past, because of his fears, because of his addictions, the obstacles he saw between us had barred him from giving and receiving pure love. He had blockaded himself from sharing and exploring with a woman so deliciously open, liberated, self-fulfilled, and full of light and joy. He cemented his feet from climbing up the bridge to meet me halfway, and explore the realm of possibility together, as equals. He came to me with walls already around his heart, and had said that I mustn't have had the right key to open that door. I think he changed the locks.

I see only options. No obstacles. The path I have turned towards is the path of my true spirit. I am met with sunlight. There is music all around me. My father kisses my head now that I finally lay my head down to rest, and put the spoon to my mouth to feed. Eagle circles above me, and all my angels are dancing and clapping.

We will always be presented with spiritual trials in life. It will never end. But this time, I choose wisely. I choose me. I choose life. I choose to celebrate this love, even when it is met with resistance. I just don't see that as an obstacle...

I see it as a testament.

I will not feed into my ancient fears. I will not let those old barriers creep back in. I will have faith that there will come a day when a beloved will appear to walk up that bridge and meet me where I'm at.

And he, whomever he is, will be one lucky son of a bitch.

Counting

The last time he left on a plane to head back home,
I felt my heart rip from my breast and leap into the sky,
attached itself to the wing of his ride,
and to him.
My heart, grown woman as she is,
chose to love
chose to wait
chose to be patient
chose to be true.

I counted down months, then weeks, days and hours
until his return.
Now, I’m already counting hours since he’s left...
Currently, we’re at 3 hours and 39 minutes into this healing.
But unlike last time, there are no tears
no banshee screams
or death cries
because this time my mind, grown woman as she is,
is choosing to love
and choosing to let go.

This time, there is no question
no wondering
if we’ll keep talking long distance,
if he has feelings for me,
if we’ll ever see each other again...
The decision has already been made,
because he is a grown man
and told me so.

No. The answer would be no.

3 hours and 44 minutes in.
I wonder how long I’ll be counting.

“Its just a matter of acceptance,” I told him at dinner last night,
for I will never understand why.
He will not bother himself to find a reason.
“It just is what it is,” he had said, “Just what I feel.”

I’ve been here before.
Too many times, really.

But all those thens resulted in my tearing my life and body and mind apart...
Desperate to understand the illogical:

For months, almost daily conversation expressing the mutual connection neither of us had experienced in years.
The admiration for each other’s work.
The shared goals and dreams for partnership, family and life.
The intense and passionate physical connection.
The ease and openness and comfort with which we communicate.
The humor and joy abundant between us.

Active planning for travel, creative work, taking it slowly as it comes
with no pressure
or demands
or timelines to decide.
It was just open. We were exploring. We were enjoying.

“You say you’re just not feeling it?” I asked with furrowed brows, “Just not feeling what?”

“The magic isn’t there. I think you are so amazing and beautiful and sexy and talented... but I have to listen to my heart, and I don’t feel the drive to dedicate myself to you.”

Huh?

“Um, but I didn’t ask for your dedication... I didn’t ask for anything other than that we both enjoy this openness, honor this connection, savor our time together, no matter what the outcome.”

Well, this is the outcome.

I will never make sense of it.
I will go mad the longer I try to.
I have been here before, too, too many times.

3 hours and 58 minutes down.
He’s halfway home.

Acceptance is the only answer for me, now, on my own again.
The plaguing questions must be kicked to the curb by the single thought:
“You will never understand. It does not make sense. He has made his choice.”

And my choice?
To smash every clock in this empty home
and never count another second again.