Santa Fe, NM always seems to satisfy the art reconnoitre, in me, where my ego-self gets upbraided meeting the sacrosanct art of those who are inspired by the hallowed grounds of ancient, Southwest indigenous power.
I love it there. My body feels good, the air is clean and the majestic mountains and secret kivas fulfill the need to escape my 21st century daily life. There are many places like that for me, around the world, however this sculpture of bronze, holds a precendence as a work of art for me, inspired me today, as I was thinking about a completely different topic for the blog.
Instead, I decided to write about an old boyfriend and something I learned about our old relationship, 2 weeks ago. It was one of those opportunities, you get once in a while, when the past assails your presumed conjecture, of what a dinner party will be like in the evening hours. I had not expected to see him, and as we have spoken over the years, since he is one of my sister's best friends, the mild anxiety I began to feel, meant that something was up. It would be unexpected and probably another lesson from the cosmos.
However, it would be the first time he and I would be seated together, for 4 hours, in a beautiful glass, wood and stone northwest lodge, owned by friends, having a party in my sister's honor.
I just didn't know what it(the anxiety) was all about. Come on, now.The universe threw us together for some reason, and it did not give me a clue before I left for the party.
I can handle surprises, even human ones, the thing is it was also the week I had been working through some past remembrances, of old relationships, and what the real reasons were that they did not work out. So, you see, that he should arrive from California, unannounced (as a surprise for my sister) challenged the unassailable reason, which I had embedded into my memory banks, of why we had ended our relationship 15 or so years ago. Crap! Or so I thought.
We had been together for 4 years before that last 5th year spiraled into silence. We had chosen different topics of study. He, the invincible topics of Contract Law and Torts and me, the near-death experiences being researched at Berkeley, and the study of anthropomorphic sound development in Cro-Magnon anthropological studies. Interesting, for us individually, death for the relationship.
We stopped talking, as neither one of us were interested in the other's discoveries and excitement garnered from them. We stopped dancing together, going on weekend jaunts, and then we stopped loving one another. Silence came quietly into our lives. I wondered, many times, what could be done to dislodge it from our home in Berkeley. It was too late. Our minds had turned away from each other, as the cosmic wheel of our destinies spun into the ethers.
That night, sitting before the twin fireplaces, in a beautiful room, over-looking Horsehead Bay, something lovely happened for me, which made me realize he had followed his heart and was happy, and I, mine.
He was talking to another guest about music of which he has an incredible knowledge. Ask him any song title, and he could tell you the composer, musician, who they were married too, who they lived with, when they played which coliseum, and which bands they had been in before and after.
In the middle of this conversation, he turned to me and said: "Danise, do you remember the night we went to the Cellar Door ( in D.C.) and Tom Waits ended the set and pulled the can of beer out of his coat jacket pocket and drank it at the piano? It was half empty, remember." I did. We had become fans of Tom and eventually, friends -though distant, since we lived in D.C. and Alexandria, VA when Tom was doing his best to make it to the top. I liked Waits and I realized there were good memories between us, because of our love of music.
When I left that night, I had done a few shots of the Herradura Seleccion Suprema Tequila Extra Anejo, which is smooth as silk, and I highly recommend it should you run into an old lover/spouse/etc., unexpectedly. There was clarity of thought as I drove across the Narrows Bridge, home, late that night.
The best part of the drive home was realizing, we had not parted from boredom, we had parted because our lives needed to go in different directions, alone, to pursue our lives and hearts' missions.
When I walked into my house, that evening, I was happy because another false premise, about a good, ole' Southern boy, had perished when a happy memory, of times past, converged into a discussion, between a man and a woman, who had once been friends and lovers, with the knowledge we had meant something to each other, at one time, and it had been good.
So, in the early morning moonlight, I released the last male phantom, of my past.
Sitting on my back deck, under the April moon, at 3 a.m., the final relationship was sealed with jubilance and gratitude, finally.I was now unshackled from false suppositions of why those relationships had ended for me. I knew the truth and it was a simple truth.
I may be free to love again. Not so much the wild, speculative love of early years. No, to explore with the deep, abiding love born from suffering, sought in wandering and tenderly touched from a life renewed with joy and reverence. I had known men who had been my worthy adversaries and lovers. I graduated from that school of understanding past male relationships.
Now, it is me, the woman who understands it was all worth it. I am happy with my life, content with my past, and can share that joy, and only that, with a man who is somewhere, out there, under the stars, and walking the earth.
He may never show up, is what you may say.
Well, like the lovely, spiral bronze sculpture above, my wheel of destiny and wisdom turns with cosmic time, through the ethereal, sublime void of space and soul, never to be stopped by mortal fears. One day, there may be a sound I recognize which will be his breath, his heart, his atoms slowly moving across the galaxy toward me. I believe our wheels of destiny are whorling toward one another, and will one day corkscrew around one another, in a helix of consummate exaltation that we were meant to be. However, I do not seek him. He will arrive, on time, when he is ready.
I can understand the incredible joy I feel to know why those relationships ended. It was a mixture of the good, bad and ugly, as we all know they can be sometimes. I had to finally decide to look at what I did to create the end, in them all, too. Painful, sometimes holding onto my denials, however, it took me 10 years to work through it. Hopefully, it won't take you but 5 or 10 minutes.
It is worth it though. I can breath and laugh again, without fear of being afraid to talk about it.
Your life is worthy of love and joy when you know we are all headed in the same direction. Love and Joy, Art, Music and Books, they are my plane ride away from a completed past.
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With beauty before me, I walk
With beauty behind me, I walk
With beauty below me, I walk
With beauty above me, I walk
With beauty all around me, I walk.
In beauty it is finished.
In beauty it is finished. ---(portion of Navajo Blessingway ceremony)
(Here is a view from my home) Lovely, isn't it?
If you need to get out this mood I have created, go turn up,Bop 'Til You Drop by the Nylons and dance around the house. I did.
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