just press play (a poem)
here we are
moment by moment
there are feelings of joy
exhilaration and madness
when the universe says: go
there is a tendency to press pause
as the feels wash over our bodies
a signal of truth or danger
internal radar scanning the horizon
pushing our pulse up nicely
our eyes sparkle with adventure
seeking the soft landing
the easy target
the vulnerable prey
the source of our affection
has mysteriously arrived
ready and quivering to join up
sync hearts and schedules
when she says yes
the choice will be binary
yes or no
breathe easy
pay close attention to your internal signals
join networks
enter encrypted passwords
show activity
open to the fall and the flight
that comes with elation
as alignments build towards escape velocity
this is your moment
what you’ve been seeking
let go of expectations and preconceptions
ask for the yes to enter fully
into both of your lives
it’s go time
jump out of the plane
into the unknown freefall
let go
be
here
now
just press play
9/16/21
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The Infinitely Desirable Woman with the Fractured Soul
She was walking across the parking lot this woman, my ideal physical type. (Perhaps more of a cultural archetype) Tall, model-thin, dark hair, dark skin, and slightly disheveled. And an alcoholic.
How do I know? She was heading into an AA meeting, at 9:30 am, on a Wednesday morning.
What is it about the devilishly distraught woman that calls to our hero hearts? What caregiver gene is responsible for this longing for the vacant and damaged woman? There must be something in my past that causes me to reach out, even if only in my mind, for this waife in distress.
Ah, I got it.
She is my sister. My sister who was ten-years-old when I was born. My sister to raised me like her child, or doll, or “baby buddha brother,” as she used to call me. Ah, that hurts.
My sister committed suicide when she was in her early thirties. She was so brilliant and beautiful, though. And so creative, talented, and loving. When she threw herself from the bridge on Christmas day, our whole family grieved on so many levels. We’re still uncovering them today.
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I saw a fractured woman, who was also strikingly attractive, with an undertow. It was that undertow that I’ve become leery of.
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Like today, I didn’t see my sister walking across the parking lot. I saw a metaphor. A cliché. I saw a fractured woman, who was also strikingly attractive, with an undertow. It was that undertow that I’ve become leery of. If the attraction is too visceral… If I want her just a tad too much, I have to go back to the drawing board and try to understand what is going on inside me that is calling out such a strong emotional reaction.
I long to fall in love. I crave the free fall. But I know that often this euphoria is more like a drug that an actual signal for the beginning of a healthy relationship. Crap. I don’t want to worry about healthy relationships. I want heat. I want magic. I want the drug.
There was nothing beyond her beauty today, that triggered this response in me. Well, that and my loneliness for companionship. Okay, maybe I miss my sister. Sure. Maybe that’s the love someone is supposed to feel for their moms. Well, my “mom” was really my sister. My singing, dancing, gypsy sister.
I’m not sad talking about her. I’m sad understanding that my soul still craves something that is missing of her love. Some closeness, and openness, that I have never experienced again. Something that I saw in my first relationship post-divorce. Some part of her that could just adore me for being me. Nothing to deliver. No expectations. Just love.
What is pure love? We understand it sometimes in terms of how we feel about our pets. They are pure love, because they love us unconditionally. They are dependant on us, and wait for us to reappear in their lives when we are gone.
Somehow, today, I realised I am still waiting for my sister to reappear. Not in physical form (holy cow, that’s either zombie talk, or ghost talk, and I’m not a fan of either) but in feeling. I’m hungry for someone to love, to love with an unhinged abandon. I’m ready to fall.
And even noticing this tendency towards the edge, towards someone who I know would be toxic, given my history, I can still feel the pull towards this woman as she meanders into the halls of recovery. I am not actually craving her, or even her body type. I’ve grown more aware, recently of how programmed we have become by the fashion and marketing industries to crave the Victoria’s Secret image. I don’t. I don’t any more. I used to. I still feel the rise and pull. But I can walk away from that trap, with the same firmness I continue to my car and drive back to my office.
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Let’s leave that dishevelment alone. In our relationships lets not look for a person who needs our help, and not a person who can help us, either. Let us look for happy, healthy, and balanced.
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See, I was in my own therapy this morning. I’m in my own recovery. Not from drugs or alcohol, but from something that might make those addictions much easier. This morning I was in counselling for my own health and welfare. Almost like a coach. But I don’t have a life coach. Almost like an AA meeting, but I don’t have an addition, unless you call this proclivity towards unavailable women, an addiction.
I’m getting better on all fronts. I’m healing, day by day. And, in some ways, I’m still healing from the loss of my loving sister. She comes out in my unhealthy desire for the fractured soul of the dishevelled woman.
Let’s leave that dishevelment alone. In our relationships lets not look for a person who needs our help, and not a person who can help us, either. Let us look for happy, healthy, and balanced. Everything within reason, right?
Today, I salute my sister and her beauty. And I salute Victoria’s Secret models and the woman crossing the parking lot to attend to her own healing.
I’d prefer something a little less dangerous, and perhaps a little less racy.
Always Love,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to The Hard Stuff
related posts:
- Terms of Surrender: Our Divorce Papers
- Losing Everything In Divorce; Learning to Carry On
- Depression is No Joke: Suicide is Not the Answer to Any Problem
- Losing Touch In the Off Times
- Check Engine Light: How Long Until Repairs Are Forced By a Breakdown?
image: screengrab of Martin Stranka portfolio, creative commons usage
fall and falling and me
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
tonight the burning leaves
bring mysterious memories to mind
of women, rough blankets, hard kisses
in this cold turning of dark
i am alone
and walking
remembering
is this exquisite longing
this curating of desire
an escape for jumping back in
into the pile of leaves
and dirt and chaos
and scraped knees
am i enjoying my musing
more than i would a good kissing
or something rarer perhaps
at play
at rest with myself
i am not longing with my soul
i am longing with my heart
refinding center
at peace
as me
i love the falling
i would love to fall
i have a fear of falling
an error could set me back 11 years
i miss falling
i won’t settle for hopping
or hoping
i need full flight
breathless abandon
without that
the fall is scented with imaginings
again of who or where she might be
i don’t want all right
i don’t crave steady, or solid, or sure
i don’t fall for youth or red lips
i see them, i see potentials everywhere
but they can’t hear me
there is not much to see at the moment
i am reforming
recalculating
calibrating
re
me
10-17-13
image used via creative commons: heat
The Feeling of Falling In Love: Your Online Dating Proposal
Here is my opening statement on a dating site out there on the interwebz. I am trying to express who I am and what I am looking for, in enticing and precise language.
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I open this site with hope and a slight tingle of excitement? “Someone’s out there!”
A feeling I want to have is that of exhilaration. You cannot plan on or calculate the rush of a connection. But I am learning, as well, is that you can’t force it. When it happens we won’t have to think about it. Our mouths will simply form the words, “So what’s next?”
A little story. So I went on a first meeting date today. And things seemed to go well. Afterwards I txted this little metaphor. “Two dogs meet in a park. Either both dogs tails are wagging. Or one dog’s tail is wagging. Or neither dog’s tail is wagging. Simple mammalian mechanics. I was wagging.” Do you think that’s too strong? Well, she didn’t txt back. At least not in the 4.5 hours since lunch. No worries. I just wanted to cut to the chase, so to speak, so neither of us needed to wonder or WAIT WAIT WAIT the proper amount of time to respond. (Wasn’t an online date, so she’s not here.)
Let’s not be to precious about this “online” thing. I’d like to talk and meet not txt and chat. Don’t you think? Let’s be fearless in conversation, active in imagination, and warm in heart. Our conversations can be boundless or quiet, challenging or soothing.
Let’s grab coffee somewhere. It can just be a flyby “hello.” Dating comes after we’ve met and both say, “Hm… That’s something I’m interested in doing again.” Then we can walk, play tennis, swim, see a band, have a cup of coffee or glass of wine and see where the chemistry leads us.
+++
That’s how I put forward myself in the online world. What do you think?
In my 50’s now for two months, I’m clear that we don’t have unlimited time on this planet. And putting up with someone’s bad behavior is not part of my plans. I did that when I was married. This time, this relationship, I’m looking for compatibility first. And my dating male friend says, “I notice how much laughter there is when we meet.”
“Yes. We should have fun right off the bat. Unforced. Easy.”
“Right,” he said. “But, I’m talking about *me* laughing. Is she making me laugh?”
Wow. Another indication I may be working it too hard, when I’m trying to be too charming, too funny, too intimate.
I WANT to be relaxed. Let the next LOVE relationship come to me. I’m working the online angle, but I’m NOT going to be working so hard to fix that compatibility. When it happens I hope it will sweep me off my feet and out of my head. (With one caveat: I will not compromise my two main requirements: 1. expresses and feels deep emotions; 2. is comfortable expressing her affection physically.)
It’s going to happen. Patience in the dating realm is hard. We want it NOW. We dont’ want to be alone any more. We can almost taste it. But if we try to hard we might manufacture an illusion of love, but we will miss the listening and responding to the other person’s queues.
I want her to make ME laugh. Yes, that’s a great meter.
The feeling of falling in love will surprise and amaze me, again. I know it.
And OKCupid asks the question like this.
What do you think about falling in love?
- “I want it very much.”
- “I like to let it happen.”
- “What is love?”
- “Love is overrated.”
Select the answer that most closely describes you.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
