The Haunted Tunnel of Love~ I Survived!!!

Oh the arduous task of linear thinking.  This morning it feels especially challenging and unsavory.  It’s like my mind is a burning building, ignited by the licking flames of inspiration and wonder, and all the innocent and frightened little words must flee from impending death by exiting my mind through my selfless fingertips, single file.  There is a sense of desperation, to which I can only respond with deep, patient breaths.  But escorting these words out of my wildly flaming mind is a sheer act of love and devotion.  So I breathe.  I sink into an expansive sense of patience, tinkle and pound out one trembling little word at a time.

I came to Mykael’s café this morning (He’s not here.).  Mostly because I couldn’t make myself get on my bike and ride this morning.  I already swam and the idea of biking made me consider crawling straight back into bed… but how lame would that be?!  Walking down the hill was even a stretch, but a very doable stretch.  Britney is working this morning.  She is young and tiny, but fierce.  I bet she could kill if she had the chance.  I like her.  I do not like her drinks though.  Once I came here with Mykael and we both ordered double mochas.  She pulled two sets of shots with the same grounds.  She just let the water keep running through them, until it was pouring like dirty water and she divided the dingy liquid between our two cups. I didn’t say anything, but instead chose to die of repulsion and disappointment. I guess I have not let that go.  But I will right now, because she just made me a decent Americano.  Plus she’s so awake and alive and that’s worth SOMEthing.  (I mean it would be worth EVERYthing, except that she works in a café, which in my mind means that she SHOULD give a shit about the quality of the drinks she makes)

I asked her how she was today and she said she’s awesome, because she’s going on vacation on Saturday.  Vacation!  Of course in my mind’s eye, I immediately saw the tropics, since that’s the quintessence of vacations to ME… I asked her where she was going.  “ROAD TRIP!” She exclaimed as light spilled sloppily from her elated face.  Driving to L.A., then up to Vegas and through the desert, where her boyfriend is lustily planning to shoot his gun!  She said she could LIVE on the road, in her car… but she doesn’t for the sanity of the people in her life who love her and wouldn’t understand or approve of an unconventional life.  Hearing of her passion for adventure, her thirst for the unknown gave me confidence and strength to embark on this next leg of my own journey.

I have been second, third and fourth guessing my rough draft of a plan to release the familiar drudgeries of my daily life and leap across the pacific ocean to tropical, Hawaiian paradise for a much needed healing intermission from this ceaseless pounding Bay Arean saga.

Something that I am finally coming to terms with after thirty years of life is that everyone sure has a unique map and compass when it comes to living life.  When I was heavily considering breaking up with Mykael, naturally I had a hearty cornucopia of conversations with my near and dears… and every single one of them had a unique slant, a personal cup of shoulds for me to sip from.  Ultimately, all anybody could offer me in the way of advice was based on what they had lived through thus far… I am the only one who is qualified to make the choices my life path demands.  And ideally, those choices spring from a deep listening and a long term committed partnership with that sexy hunk upstairs.  (NO, GOD IS NOT A MAN, I’m just poking some necessary fun at the ridiculous concepts that abide just north of the surface of our collective, western minds … relax… God is way too big for my masturbatory reindeer games… but Heavenly Highness encourages me to make gratuitous fun of the human condition as often as I dare.)

Last night Jerry gave me his two million cents on my current situation and choices.  You have to understand that there was a [long] time in my life where I absolutely regarded Jerry’s opinion as GOSPEL.  He might as well have been God.  And then I woke up.  And he was just another man, after all.  It was not so different from the moment that I realized that my mom was not God.  Ouch!  That was fucking painful.  I swear to god, I was convinced my mom was God, (All Pervading Light) until I was nine or ten years old… and then I nearly drowned in a sea of disappointment and resentment.  Thankfully, it was not quite as traumatic when I realized Jerry was not my personal Moses on the mountain.  (Oooh!  Just thinking of Moses got me all hot and bothered!  Why do I love messengers of God so feverishly?!?!?)

Anyway, Jerry came over to my house for a yoga lesson last night and I happened to be dwelling in a cobwebby, shadowy nook of fear… so he proceeded to give me a decadent dose of his opinions on the mater of my path.  You see, he’s a life coach and his whole stupid world recognizes him as the man who sees straight among us.  But… his straight is my loopdy loop.  For the first time, I was able to just listen to him, without losing my own center, perspectives, sense of self.(though it was not exempt from tremors)  He was representing the masculine voice of reason, the father who is logical, who never leaves home without his map, shot gun and an enormous iced mocha.  I think he thinks I am absurd for letting go of everything I have worked hard for and free falling some more.  His sermon was all about planning and striving to fit myself into society’s bone crushing steal jaws.  I told him that I wanted to make money as a writer.  He said I should write for Hollywood.  Hmmmm… Why doesn’t that get my panties wet???  (Now that my mom is a subscriber to my blog, I feel self conscious saying stuff like that… but she told me not to edit on her behalf.  I certainly won’t… but I still feel the smiling sting born of the sense that Mom is watching…)

Anyway, it felt like a rigorous-assed test, to hear beloved Jerry offer me his righteous dissertation on my life and not crumble under the immense weight of his unwieldy perspectives.  Toward the end, I told him that we see things differently.  Part of me wanted to just collapse in a tearful heap of misunderstoodness… But I told myself that his beliefs were just that.  His beliefs.  Then I said, let’s do some yoga.  We sat facing each other with our hands in prayer before our hearts… and he confessed that he was proud of the seat I was resting in inside myself, and that really, he was just poking around at me to see what kind of ground I was standing on as I navigated this fresh incarnation of my journey… And HE APPROVES!  Sheesh!  He acknowledged that somebody is indeed home over here, the lights are on, the roots are  making natural love to their soil beneath my feet.

I SURVIVED!!!  Man, I swear, it was like riding along on my hot pink swan through what was advertised as the tunnel of love, only to realize once I was already cruising down the winding river, that it was the HAUNTED tunnel of love and all I could do was ride it out.  And when the lights came back on and the ghosts disappeared, God put a medal on me, because I made it to the other side with my truth intact!!!  It is such a precarious endeavor… being a sensitive, permeable creature, moving through this insane world and being able all the while to hold true to that which I know in my bones.  In moments like that, it helps to soften into God, and remember that there is NOTHING real but the peace and joy born of oneness with the light inside.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    May 20, 2010 @ 19:20:54

    mmmm delicious 🙂

    Reply

  2. Melissa
    May 20, 2010 @ 20:47:00

    “In moments like that, it helps to soften into God, and remember that there is NOTHING real but the peace and joy born of oneness with the light inside.”

    So beautiful! I think I will have it tattooed on my arm like the waitress I aw at Herbivore the other night who had text tattooed on her forearm…..

    Reply

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