But in this case, the devil brought me a little wisdom. Communication is very important, however, without comprehension all the best communication is lost. That is to say, when someone speaks, you hear them, if you don’t whatever is said is lost between you.
My prior self-loathing has been well-documented in this forum. Yes, I have moved on, I have lightened my load so to speak, that suitcase of guilt and shame is well behind me in the rear-view mirror. The fortress I had built around my heart, lays in shambles, little piles of wood waiting to be burned to dust. Why is this? Someone very recently said to me ‘Oh MY GOD, you are SUCH A GOOD PERSON!!!’ This person, we’ll call her Tina, said this to me and it landed squarely in my head and heart. Those words wrecked me in the very best way possible. Every damn defense mechanism I’ve built for the past 30 years has been blown to bits.
I’ve had many people say this to me, that I am a good person, ‘a good guy,’ hell, my therapist, Mikey League, has pointed this out to me more times than I wish to admit to when he asks the question: ‘Who buys 6 dozen donuts and coffee for a staff of people just because they admire and appreciate their efforts on behalf of a bunch of kids who aren’t yours?’ I would tend to just sweep this question under the rug, my alter-ego Pedro tends to buy Krispy-Kreme’s for a bunch of teachers it’s not a big deal for me. Why do I do this? My answer in the past has always been, because I can, not because I’m a good person. Anyone with a brain and heart would do the same thing….(or should!)
In my last post I spoke of this happiness and being scared of this new feeling and while being able to understand I am deserving of it, still not really able to comprehend. My buddy, a very long and dear friend and I were going back and forth via text, his words… I’m happy for you! – You deserve it! Again, these words landed. It’s as if all of a sudden, I can say, hell yeah, I deserve this goodness. This goodness is restorative to my being, it has helped me to be more focused on my friends and family. I can be the loving and generous person I am that is true to who I am without any question to if it’s odd. This is a gift, a fantastic gift that I wish everyone can experience.
Truer words never stated, in my experience.
Communication and comprehension. It’s such a simple concept and yet, here we go again… at 50, someone who is a stranger on TikTok laid some wisdom on me.
With that thought, I’m going to offer this very strange challenge to anyone who reads this: What in your head, belief system, self-image or whatnot is getting in the way of you comprehending what people are telling you? I have an idea of what it was for me. All I can say is when those words hit and you hear them for the first time, it’s like something fills your lungs and you can finally, actually breathe. It is the sweetest music and the warmest, softest blanket.
Stay salty my friends, be someone’s rock, their port in the storm, give love unconditionally and receive it as well. Be kind to others, be kind to yourself. Listen to what people say and consider they may be right.
Holy Moly – two posts inside of two weeks! Dude – What gives??!!
I haven’t been on this sunny-side of the street for a very long time. I’m dreaming, I’m doing better at work, I’m more patient than I’ve ever been and feeling very content. I’ve been mainlining music on YouTube and done more dancing in the past 2-3 weeks than I have in a good long while.
Life is G-R-A-N-D!
It’s a little scary if I’m being totally honest. Waiting for the other shoe to drop and also realizing maybe it’s not going to (because we don’t wear shoes in the house!) As I’ve written previously, I have suffered from having very strong feelings for a while. It’s not a bad thing usually, but when you throw in my dogmatic certainty and overwhelming joy and excitement it’s a whole lot to swallow. Especially for people who don’t know me very well. I often times worry about being too much and realizing that unfortunately that’s how I am wired. I can play it cool for a while and then the enormity of my joy is, well, overwhelming at times. Even for me. This is where I have to remember to trust what’s being reflected and not guess, but rather remember to be intentional.
What I’ve found is I’m scared to death. It’s not a matter of not trusting or not embracing the joy. What I find myself doing, and wrongly doing at that, is to wonder if this level of happiness is something I’m entitled to? Of course, that’s complete BS and I most certainly am entitled to all the joy. It’s a strange place to be in because I’ve realized I have control to a point and the rest I have to just ride like a wave of goodness.
Rumi is always good for some perspective I suppose…..
As I laid in bed last night not sleeping as soundly as I should have, it struck me. As I proceed down this path away from what I know and have known I realize the path I’m walking down is a path I haven’t travelled before. As with any journey, you see the new stuff and it rightly makes you start to compare it to things that you have known, those concrete experiences. I’m trying as hard as I can to enjoy the journey this time and not compare it to anything although I do think it’s our nature to try to have a touchstone back to what’s familiar and well known. As a little kid, I was almost too trusting of people and those experiences taught me to build a safe zone. The pain you know, no matter how bad it was, is still a known quantity. Hopefully that’s all in the past and the future is bright (I gotta wear shades – Timbuk 3 reference anyone?).
I decided, when I put down my suitcase of guilt and regret, to move forward in my life. That means embracing and leaning into the stuff that makes me question if I’m worthy of love and affection. If my dreams of a family and acceptance in that/those family units will come true.
I believe they will and are coming to fruition. For now, I need to be patient and enjoy the journey and trust the hand I get to hold along the path. What will be in the future will be.
Today is beautiful – my children are healthy; my family is well. Things are looking up once again more differently than ever and I am happy.
I’ll be satisfied with being someone’s rock, someone’s safe space and happy in the knowledge the guy looking back at me in the mirror is, in the immortal words of Wooderson – Alright, Alright, Alright.
Be well my friends, love, laugh, forgive and dream!
Someday I’ll see this with my own eyes day after day…..
It’s been a very long while since I have allowed myself to have dreams of the world again. Maybe it’s COVID and an idea that this might be over soon, maybe it’s the fact we’re having a GREAT stand of weather here in North Carolina who knows – but it feels good. One thing I have dreamt of doing since I was a teenager was sailing a boat around the world. This started with a book called Maiden Voyage. I was hooked. Then when the internet allowed me to read blogs of people circumnavigating the world by boat it did nothing but fuel that dream. The idea of setting a course to some far-off destination way over the horizon and getting there at 7-10 knots sounds like a slice of heaven. The journey, the destination and everything that happens along the way! Travel is so important to me as it allows me to see things from a different point of view. I once read that changing your mind is like crossing a border, you’re still the same person but things look different. I’m a strong believer in different is good. Maybe not always better, but still good.
I had an opportunity to share this dream of mine which wasn’t much helped by re-reading Ali and Pat Schulte’s Bumfuzzle.com website. These crazy kids took a 3-day sailing lesson on Lake Michigan, sold everything they had, bought a boat in Florida, outfitted her and promptly sailed her around the world. As rookies! I’m not sure if they were foolish, fool hearted or just wickedly smart. What I’ve always enjoyed about their blog is reading how Pat describe how he and Ali always seem to be on the same page, obviously marriages are give and take, but they have a partnership I envy. They’re still traveling full time now with two kids both born out on the road.
I wish I knew why all of sudden I’m dreaming again. Literally and figuratively. I am sleeping well and waking early feeling refreshed and happy to greet the day. It’s as if there’s a sense of balance that is back and a feeling of calm I haven’t had for a very long time. Perspective maybe, who knows. At the end of the day the why isn’t as important to me as leaning into this feeling and letting it wash over me.
That last point is important as I’ve been trying to embrace being uncomfortable. I recently listened to a podcast where Pema Chödrön (She’s an American Buddhist teacher and nun) was discussing just that topic – how to be comfortable in the space between known and unknown. Maybe it’s a little woo-woo but it spoke to me. Between the woo-woo Buddhist philosophy, dreaming of ocean travels and discovering this songhttps://youtu.be/0E1bNmyPWww as well as hearing my old standby Crosby, Stills and Nash song – Southern Cross https://youtu.be/Bw9gLjEGJrw I’m dreaming of seeing the southern cross and enjoying that journey with someone by my side.
For now, I’m going to focus on enjoying tonight and look forward to a tomorrow filled with goodness and light. Stay Salty my friends, be someone’s rock, their port in the storm, give love unconditionally and receive it as well. Be kind to others, be kind to yourself.
SARS Covid-19 Under Magnification – note this is not from my body, just a facsimile of what’s coursing through it!
In the wee hours of the morning today, I became yet another statistic, a measurable point within our society. Per the results of my PCR test, I am positive for COVID-19. It’s just another data point really. I’m also a divorced man (statistic), I am a person who strayed from their marriage (statistic), I’ve over 50 with a higher than normal chance for suicide (statistic), I am a child of physical and emotional abuse (statistic). I have a certain blood type, I have brown eyes, etc.…. These statistics, overall are really meaningless to me. They don’t define the man I am, they don’t define my relationships, they don’t keep me from evolving. These statistics are indicators of what was, but not of what is to come. They do not define me. My book is still open and there is a whole lot of goodness out there waiting for me.
As I laid in bed and pondered my fate with COVID, I wondered, am I going to be in a statistic that gets everyone’s attention – will this be fatal? For this one, I find solace in the statistic as I understand in that the chances of this being fatal are very small. Is it this cling to life, the desire to live such a strong driver that we can ignore the other facts? As a person with COVID, so far, I’ve found it to be mostly a drag, I don’t feel very well, I get tired when I walk my dog up my driveway, my O2 level fluctuates between scary @ 95% to fairly normal 98-99%. My heart rate is up and down and all over the place, where I’m normally at 58-60 resting, I’m at 75-80… which is super odd! I’m about midway through this journey, the worst of it has been associated muscle cramping and aches as well as the occasional headache and fever. I am super sneezy too! I just feel puny and run down. At the midpoint, I am hoping this starts to get a little better in the next couple of days.
The upside of this (anyone who knows me knows I have to look for an upside!) is I’ll have 90ish days of immunity moving forward, I’ve had the virus, looked it in the eye and moved along. Hopefully, I’ll be on the waning side of the immunity front when I’m finally able to get my own vaccination. All in all, this is good news as far as I’m concerned. For now, I can be content to have a warm house, warm clothes to wear, good food, the ability to have groceries delivered and still manage to be able to move around to cook. I am a fortunate soul to be sure. The only downside I can see perhaps is the extreme cleaning of my house following this two-week sabbatical, but that would need to be done anyway.
So then, if you’ve read so far, please continue to be well, keep safe, take good care of yourself. Spread kindness and love, be someone’s rock in their time of need, have empathy and love.
As an extra – I’ll leave this here for you to listen to…. https://youtu.be/0y8Q2PATVyI This is my favorite tune for the time being… @2:43 shit gets real… this causes every hair on my body to be on end. I hope it stirs in you the emotion it stirs in me.
Lately, really since a little before Christmas I have gotten into shooting sporting clays. If you research sporting clays even just a little bit, you’ll find it’s comparable to golf, but with a shotgun. I would say this is an appropriate analogy. This ‘sport’ if you will, has me hooked. There’s a fair amount of strategy as you try to shoot the bird (clay Pidgeon) as it’s presented to you in a variety of different formats. It’s also something that you can do outdoors and once you’re out on your circuit of stations, you can do so at an appropriate social distance. This activity, Sporting Clays, is one where you can just be outside and not worry about COVID. It’s a strangely normal activity harkening back to a time when you could do things without worry. Also, interestingly, is the lack of ‘politics’ or divisiveness that seems to be commonplace these days. It’s just a place where folks go to shoot their guns and relax trying to bust more than just a few clays. It’s strange to me such a place exists, but it’s a focus on just the activity and if anything is a wonderful change of pace this is it!
To be successful with Sporting Clays, you have to rely on your unconscious mind. If you think too much, if you aim, you’re going to miss. Shooting on instinct is far more reliable a method than having the opportunity to aim. Shut off the mind, see the target and shoot. It’s quite possibly, aside from riding my motorcycle, one of the most Zen things I have done in a very long time. A respite from the mind… a respite from the world, all within 20 miles of where I live and a blessed hour or so of focus on being outside.
This past weekend I took part in a ‘competition’ or fun shoot as was described by the sporting clays range where I shoot. After multiple weeks of getting better at shooting, I more or less had my ass handed to me. I shot a 37 out of 100 targets, a 37! Pathetic really, but I couldn’t be more excited about a 37. I think I shot a 17 out of 50 true pairs as well – also pathetic – but considering I’ve been doing this for 3 weeks, I’m pretty damned stoked. As I have been progressing on my own, I’ve shot very well – like 35 out of 50 on my own, in competition though that number dropped… I honestly don’t really care – it was a learning experience. I was very fortunate to be able to ‘squad’ with 3 older gentleman who are much better than I am who imparted knowledge as coaching to try to get me to improve my shooting.
This is such an odd blog post for me – has zero to do with emotional wellbeing or states of mind, but rather – a focus on an activity. It’s neither salty, nor sweet – like the clays flying through the air, either they’ll be busted on the way up, on the way down or by gravity. Gravity always gets them! (maybe that’s a salty metaphor!)
As always, I hope if you’re reading this you can be kind to yourself and others, look for goodness, be someone’s rock or place of safety, or find one who can be that for you. Take good care of yourself and those in your vicinity – spread kindness and love.
The biggest issue I have found lately between the Global COVID-19 Pandemic and being alone is managing the notion of physical touch. I have no one in my bubble aside from my kid who’s with me every other week, who can give me a hug, a full-on full body hug. More than anything it’s that regular connection that is missing for me. I read an article this morning that came from one of my woo-woo email subscriptions which prompted this writing.
“We need four hugs a day for survival. We need eight hugs a day for maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth.”
These metrics are definitely hard to quantify, without getting into the math of hug length, cortisol suppression, oxytocin release and measurable feelings of safety and belonging.
While by and large, I am feeling better than I have felt emotionally that I have felt in many many years, I don’t carry the suitcase of guilt or regret any longer, the world around me is more vibrant and alive than it has been in a very long time. That in itself is a blessing, but with that blessing come a bit of a curse. I have found that I crave human interaction, being in the presence of someone with whom I trust and can feel loving kindness from, but also feel good in the reciprocation of those feelings in the giving. The issue with being in solitude and on one’s own during a pandemic means you don’t or can’t receive regular hugs. It feels as if you’re falling down a rabbit hole and praying for anyone to give you a hug. A few months back, I was at my friend Rob’s house as a pass through so he could check out my GS. His wife, Stacey, when she saw me immediately broke COVID protocol and gave me the biggest hug I had felt in months. It was so overwhelming I started to choke up. It felt so good.
The other thing I have found lately is I miss having another body sleeping next to me, I miss having the presence of another person that I can reach out and touch in the night. It’s not for loneliness, but rather, the feeling of belonging with that person right there, sleeping soundly, maybe snoring, that you can snuggle up next to and get warm again. I miss the daily morning routine of making coffee or tea for someone and delivering with a kiss and a caress. I miss being fed breakfast, or lunch or dinner and being fussed at about eating enough and the right stuff.
I miss having someone to walk with me either in the woods or my neighborhood to dream with. Exercise has helped me with these feelings of separate-ness but do not replace the physical person who’s there instead of in my mind. The walking helps, along with less alcohol too – allowing me to shed nearly 16-17 pounds and trim down, I feel great physically and emotionally too for the most part. Ups and downs, but what’s missing is the daily partnering of mundane tasks and most of all physical touch.
I do count myself fortunate, in that I have a few very close friends, some just pop in via text or actually physically to share a meal, a hoppy beverage and BS around the fire-pit. These things are great for your mental space to share and talk, it does nothing though for physical touch.
In short, I miss hugs, I miss the feeling of a hug to let my brain know that I’m okay. That I can take a break.
So there you go – not so salty today – just more about feelings of being on one’s own during a pandemic. Desperately hoping for an embrace, a safe harbor and rock where maybe I can have a good rest as well. In the mean-time, find someone to be kind to, be kind to yourself, look for the goodness around you and love large.
I’ve been on a wicked song circle lately, Van Halen, The Police, David Bowie, weird 80’s stuff from Simply Red, Thin Lizzy, etc… The songs I pick out to listen to have meaning in one context or another and often time bring back happy thoughts, feelings and memories from times between the 80’s and today. For that matter, you could throw on the soundtrack from Grease or The Jazz Singer and I might be teleported back to elementary school and riding shotgun, sans seat belt with one of my siblings in their cars at about 7, 8 or 9.
Syncronicity though, has been running through my brain lately. Events, happenings, seeing old friends, getting phone calls and texts out of the blue when I normally don’t have these messages on any one single day brings me to wonder what the universe is trying to tell me? If I dig into the interwebs and lookup ‘song meanings’ for this song I get these quotes:
Plainly put, [synchronicity] is the experience of having two (or more) things happen coincidentally in a manner that is meaningful to the person or persons experiencing them, where that meaning suggests an underlying pattern. It differs from coincidence in that synchronicity implies not just a happenstance, but an underlying pattern or dynamic that is being expressed through meaningful relationships or events.
And this one:
The title song of the Police’s final studio album, Synchronicity, from 1983, was inspired by the writings of C. G. Jung. The Swiss psychiatrist postulated an “acausal connecting principle,” whereby seemingly coincidental events were held to have an underlying relation. That, he believed, offered an explanation for ostensibly paranormal occurrences such as phone calls arriving from people just as we have been thinking about them.
If you would have asked me when I was in middle school jamming out to these tunes if they would ever hold deeper meaning for me when I was middle aged, I would have looked at you like you had two heads with 3 eyes each! And yet – here I am – this song rolling through my brain and then connecting dots. One other explanation is that I am finally in a frame of mind to explore the larger un-paved path that lays before me. I am open to receive what I haven’t been able to conceive of in the past. Heck, maybe the knock on the head I got with my motorcycle accident and the following surgery uncorked some blockage. It’s hard to say really. Maybe the combination of dropping this heavy load I’ve been carrying in terms of guilt and sadness combined with the whack to the head changed things – in the end I don’t think it matters – it just feels completely different and better. Being clear-eyed and minded is a fantastic change.
With that I’ll leave you with this:
and this one too because I love it so much!
Stay Salty my friends, love deeply, forgive quickly, spread kindness to yourself and others, grow yourself as a crystal grows, evolve, be the rock in someone’s life when they need support or a place to rest. Be Well and be kind to yourself.
“Ever Since Happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets to find you”
Rumi
Not quite the tree of life, but perhaps the tree of light?
Reflecting on my last post, especially the first bit, about getting up and getting on with things, I have found a part of my being has simmered down for lack of a better term. Things are clearer to me. This is a strange happenstance as I’ve spent almost the entire last 4 years bouncing from one ‘truth’ to another seeking some type of understanding about the world I found myself in. Along the way and very well documented here, I Imbibed way too much, partied too much, cried way too much and hurt many people along the way who only had my best interests at heart. It might be appropriate to look back with a tinge of shame or regret, but as it usually the case, those experiences brought me to this place. In the end it was a thought first thing in the morning a couple of weeks back and seeing my own reflection in the mirror which made me put down this thing I’ve been carrying to far too long.
Coming to terms with this guy who looks back at me, I no longer see this person I really don’t like. What I see is a man who is kind and gentle (most times), who likes to laugh and who has much to offer the world. As flawed as I am, I have value for myself and for others.
I was speaking with my therapist, John (Patitucci), and he keeps asking and pushing me as to why I can’t just release all of this ugliness and move forward. It feels that way if I’m being completely honest with myself. I no longer feel beholden to anyone besides myself. Yes, I have responsibilities, a job, kids to care for, etc, but beyond those things – the opinions of others, their attempts to cajole or manipulate my behavior have more or less been removed from my general way of thinking. I finally feel free of all that baggage.
If they cannot love me for the person I am, flawed, imperfect but still loving and giving, it is not my issue. I am a good man – with his own life to live and lead. I can show up fully for the people in my life and be caring and empathetic, but not a doormat.
This realization has been a pivotal aha moment: As I am out and about around town, my neighborhood or even just at home, I am seeing things as I have seen them so many times before, but with happier eyes. It’s difficult to describe in words really. For me it seems like this burden I’ve been carrying has been lifted. This newer paradigm feels better. When I pushed back on John about just dropping everything and moving on, I told him I didn’t want to jinx this feeling. Having been through ups and downs of a very great magnitude about a year ago, I am hesitant to fully embrace this feeling of happiness. Having been bitten once and inflicting my mania on others, I am trying to take a more measured pace.
What has helped to a large extent is a practice of meditation every morning. The meditation isn’t always easy as my mind tends to hop right into gear first thing, but when I am able to get back to a point where I am totally focused on my breathing, I have found space where things are calm. I can focus only on my breath and my mind goes free. Maybe the calm of meditation is spilling over into my consciousness, maybe that time out first thing in the morning is what I need and it has helped. The other thing that has helped is getting outside in nature and getting a good walk in. I am walking in places new and old and it’s been really good for my mood as well as mental clarity.
As the holidays approach, since it’s COVID times and I won’t be celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday with anyone, my plan is to throw my dog in the car and head west towards the mountains, weather permitting, to go hike on one of my favorite sets of mountains. Listen to music and try to connect with the outside. Again, I see this as more opportunities to meditate and connect with myself and the world around me. More connections are a good thing.
What all of this may be, if I really think about it is the absence of worry. No – I don’t have all the answers, but I’m ok with not having all the answers. The difference is I can be in this space without worry. The lack of worry for me equates in the short term as happiness, but yet this feeling feels different. I dare say I am hopeful with absolutely nothing in front of me aside from a future that I am in control of. Strange days to be sure, happier days definitely.
With that I am going to tie off my writing for the time being. Stay Salty my friends, love deeply, forgive quickly, spread kindness to yourself and others, grow yourself as a crystal grows, be the rock in someone’s life when they need support or a place to rest.
“It’s about how you get up, not how you’ve fallen”
When I started this blog as a place to express myself, I started right off the bat with my first post with the statement: “I’m a dad, a divorced man, a wishful musician and an adulterer, (reformed).”
Today as I reflect on that statement and definition of myself, I can understand and remember the headspace I was in at the time, but I would have to retract that statement and use this one:
“I am a Dad, A divorced man and a wishful musician. I am a man who is divorced. I am a man who sees a flawed human in the mirror but also understands things happen and appreciates the man before me.”
While this experience has been hard, likely the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, the lessons I have learned along the way have shaped me into a much better man and while I wouldn’t suggest this as a path to learning, I wouldn’t change anything that happened along the way. I think I needed to get to this place to have the clarity I have today (ok – there are some things I would change but not the lessons!). I am thankful, if not grateful for clarity.
The other part of this blog has been mostly about anonymity, I tend to talk around things and leave out specifics so as to keep those who know but might wish to be unknown safe. In this post, I intend to lay out my truth in an effort to find some reconciliation with myself and as part of this, share the truth as I know. It has to be stated – contracts are in place, this matter has been settled, no one named here risks any legal action and since we were all parties to the same stuff, I don’t feel too bad about using any specific names (although my therapist will still be some fantastical bass player) after all, I did pay extra to ensure my affair partner was indemnified from the fullest extent of the law. That last statement isn’t being boastful, she didn’t want me to, but I needed to protect her in the only way I knew how at the time, so I did. Faced with the same decision again – I would do it all over again.
When my affair began 4+ years ago, I was a married 46-year-old man who was unhappy in his marriage and met someone equally unhappy in theirs. This person happened to be my neighbor Virginia. Funny enough, I have an earlier memory of meeting her on the deck of a P&O Ferry between Dover and Calais when I was about 14. She was magnificent and beguiling then, at 46 to me. she was more-so – but the P&O story is a story for a much different day. I won’t for an instant not imagine that the universe brought her to me a second time and I was then and am still thankful it did, even for the pain. The universe is a strange and mystical place….
Our relationship started innocently enough, it’s started with a drunken kiss on a waning full moon. We had both been very attracted to each other and she was in that moment the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. It was like a dream. As it turned out, we were both unhappy and saw someone who needed a partner who would be there for them. For each of us, in retrospect, I think we were both naïve. When we started it I never thought in a million years I would fall so deeply in love with her or she with me. What began as a white-hot passionate affair grew into a deep and abiding love, not without issue, but deep and abiding. Virginia and I went through a crucible together in term of living through private investigators, lawsuits, contracts, arbitrations, etc… it was a hard and difficult path we chose. What strikes me still today is the memory of gathering together to reflect on what transpired and focus on the future. I can still recall very vividly a dinner at Acme in Carrboro… it’s weird the things you recall… Our relationship was a partnership that while weird and containerized in the early times, in retrospect, was mostly good once we were each separated/divorced from our respective spouses. I say mostly good because, as indicated in my earlier blog statement, I carried a fair amount of guilt and shame for being an adulterer and allowed others to leverage that in order to manipulate me. In retrospect, I can see all the ways Virginia reacted to this abuse. I was wrong to let it take place at the time, but when you’re in the eye of the storm, you don’t always see dry ground around you. I allowed my children to leverage my guilt as well as my ex-wife. While I divorced, it took time to set all the ugliness aside. What I am regretful for is putting Virginia through this storm with me and having her watch me suffer. Having watched someone I love suffer myself, it’s heart breaking. I was in a bad place for a long time. I am a stubborn man. She needed more love from me and for me to relent and let her give me the love she wanted to give. I was afraid I would lose everything I had and then some, the love of my children, my family, etc… so I resisted. In the end it took me this time to have this level of clarity. Again – the clarity gives me a sense of relief that I won’t let happen again. When someone offers goodness and love to care for you – it’s important that you trust them to love you well.
My relationship with Virginia spanned over 4 years with multiple breakups along the way. Early in our relationship, we spent time walking in the woods, sharing dreams, frustrations with our families, supporting each other and dreaming together. Later on, once separated, we were able to establish a regular relationship, dinners, nights out, nights in and the nature of our partnership changed. Although, the manipulation in my world continued to bleed over into hers, we were able to spend time together more openly. Although I have to admit, I allowed my shame and guilt to shape how I interacted with her. A regret of mine to be sure. To this day though, the happiest Christmas I’ve experienced as an adult was spent with her and her kids. We had wonderful trips, lots of laughs, vivacious conversations where we argued pedantic points much to the chagrin of the other but overwhelmingly shared a deep and abiding love between us. There really is too much to catalogue here…. most of it good and bad still remains in my mind. Mostly good.
Our love was pure and while we were seemingly twin-flames, we could argue as passionately as we loved. These arguments were exacerbated I believe by each of our own insecurities. In the end though, we could embrace and move forward, for the most part. Along that timeline I continued to struggle with my own demons and she very patiently waited for me. In the end we parted ways, but I have come to reflect on the time, the pure amount of time it has taken me to get to this point. Over the past 3-4 years I’m pretty sure I alone have kept several distilleries and brewery’s afloat. I have been suicidal (documented here), I have been bi-polar (why this blog exists in the first place), I have been massively depressed and yet through it all this person sat with me and watched me suffer offering kindness and love and it was very much lost on me.
I’ve spent a long time loathing and disliking the man in the mirror. For once I don’t mind the guy I see, he’s smarter, more empathetic and forgives more quickly. Throughout our relationship, this wasn’t the case. It has taken time, continued reflection and work to get to this point for me. Unfortunately, my relationship with Virginia fell victim to this roller-coaster of self-dount and self-hatred.
Virginia and I were not without our own issues. Both of us have experienced trauma and suffered as children, we suffered loss and diminishment. Our individual needs for acceptance and self-preservation along with a healthy dose of self-hatred made our relationship that much harder to experience. Life had been easy and hard for each of us. Having been married before, I knew all too well, the one person who can destroy you is the person closest to you who has all your secrets and knows all the soft spots to press when things go sideways. She and I had our own peccadillos and were adept at exposing them while hiding others. This is my blog, I can only say from my own standpoint, I can understand and see with more clarity how all of this unfolded and where things went askew. In the end I can take responsibility for being massively depressed, manipulated, terribly stubborn and needing time to heal. I needed time to learn to forgive myself for my transgressions and to see myself in a new light. Life goes on, memories remain, the happiness that was can’t be diminished.
So here we are now and it’s November of 2020. During COVID times and we just elected a new administration. Hope is on the rise as is the daily infection rates. My relationship with Virginia, like the Trump administration, had lots of stops and starts but in the end crashed and burned. I am moving through time and space and continuing to do the work to heal. The work I am sure will be on-going. My therapist, Ray Brown is a trusted advisor. Helps me move through the ups and downs and get back to seeing someone in the mirror I recognize as a good man. Virginia, as far as I know has moved on, every now and again I hear from her. What I want and hope for her is that she ends up happy, loved and accepted. There’s a whole big part of me that wishes I were the man providing that happiness, love and acceptance, however logic prevails and wishes may come true, in this case, I have to live my life and move on open to what is in my life and what the universe allows to come into my life in the future.
Thirty-plus years ago, a heartbroken Peter wrote “Love is like a rusty faucet, you can turn it off as best you can and yet there will always be a drip.” I come back to those words and that imagery because while we have each moved on, there is an aspect of my heart that will always have a place for Virginia. I can hope that perhaps, she feels the same, however, I can only abide in what I know in my own heart and mind and hope that type of love comes round again.
Stay Salty my friends, love deeply, forgive quickly, spread kindness to yourself and others and be someone’s rock when they need support or a place to rest. In the words of my therapist – be well and be kind to yourself.
About 4 weeks ago I had an auspicious birthday and rolled up to a new decade, from here I think I have the down hill run to meeting my maker. Not that I’m in a hurry to do so, but it makes me think a good deal about the road I’ve taken to get here and the path I’m on at the current place in my life. Reflecting seems to be a bad habit I have, but I do think there are two kinds of people, those who see life as an opportunity to wear you down over time like a stone or one that allows you to evolve and change as a crystal grows and changes. Hell – even a diamond is created out of great pressure! There’s no mistaking my situation as one that might yield a diamond, but I am very adept at turd polishing!
Recent events have put me in the place I don’t really enjoy inhabiting. So about 3 weeks ago, 10/13, I had a little mishap on my motorcycle which included a 5-10mph low-side in the backcountry of Northern Pennsylvania while riding the Mid Atlantic Back Country Discovery Route (https://ridebdr.com/mabdr/). There I broke my clavicle and cracked my eyebrow open (4 STITCHES – killer Bond Villain Scar) which resulted eventually in surgery, but I’ll pick up that story shortly, Thankfully I was riding with a very old friend of mine from college, someone I trust implicitly and who’s known me for a good long time. When I think of this guy, I don’t think, yeah he’s my good friend, he’s been a constant over these many years in and out – but always, along with his lovely bride, a very dear and constant friend.
One would think turning 50 and breaking a bone and requiring surgery to place some titanium in my shoulder would have chilled me out a little bit. It has to some extent, but what it has revealed to me is the goodness of the people around me. I’m not comfortable being handled. I don’t like people having to go out of their way to take care of me. Tying my shoelaces so I can go walk, cutting my meat so I can eat. Walking the dog, blowing the driveway, in Robs case, cutting short our adventure on day 4 because I had a slight get off and could no longer ride. The accident I would say has allowed me to refocus on taking it easy, being cognizant of where I step and to some extent how I interact with people. Even at the grocery store little kindnesses and grace permeates my interactions with people.
These, for lack of a better term, Graceful kindnesses, have laid my emotions bare. Little things, the PA at the doctors office helping me put my shirt back on my bum shoulder/arm. The Anesthesiologist spending copious amounts of time with me before surgery talking me off the ledge. The surgeon who is not only brilliant, but practical. My kids, my neighbors, my friends who demonstrate caring and compassion in helping to care for me and help me get things done. Let me tell you, for me it has been a humbling and utterly revealing experience. These have taken someone who’s usually highly emotional and turn those tears up to 11. I am not sorry for being emotional nor do I see it as weakness – I see it for what it is which is beautiful.
As I spoke with my surgeon this morning, he told me he wasn’t happy with the fixation of a couple of the screws in my clavicle. They’re holding fine, but he had hoped they would have better purchase in the bone – so I guess in the end, the screwee got the upper hand on the screwer! That said, it requires a couple of extra weeks in the sling but I’ll take it. On the other side of this I won’t be the man I was before. I’ll have somehow evolved a little, picked up a couple cool new scars and learned to slow down and let others help me.
Excuse the Dermabond – this should have a nice tattoo of sisyphus on it in about a year…..pushing that rock up the hill!
So this whole post would be sugary sweet and totally unlike my normal posts. There has to be a reference to something salty… in this case not so much salty as in a reference to Peter, St. Peter that is… About 4 years ago, I was excitedly exposed to the painter Giotto (c. 1267 – 1337) who was an innovator in his time, although, like all good things, was venerated after his death as a master instead of while he was walking this earth. Since that introduction, I’ve been drawn to his work. Specifically – to this Triptych which was commissioned to be an alter-piece for one of the Alters of Old St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Something about this speaks to me and brings me happiness. So much so – if you’re over to my place – you may well spy it hanging on my wall.
An odd choice for a 50 year old single man, Giotto’s work speaks to me in a way that makes no sense and yet makes complete sense.
Until next time – stay salty my friends, if you can’t be salty – then be the rock in someone’s world and prop them up. Be available, forgive, give grace, show enduring love, help someone in need and help yourself by being someone’s rock.
which resulted eventually in surgery, but I’ll pick up that story shortly, Thankfully I was riding with a very old friend of mine from college, someone I trust implicitly and who’s known me for a good long time. When I think of this guy, I don’t think, yeah he’s my good friend, he’s been a constant over these many years in and out – but always, along with his lovely bride, a very dear and constant friend.
