July 11, 2014

I’ve been packing for the past week, to prepare my house for the new sublessor. I’ve sorted through drawers, pulled old unwearable clothes from my closet, and dragged boxes out from underneath the bed. I take great care in the cleansing process. The notes, letters, crumpled photographs ask me to pause, to take stock, to remember myself as I was then. I am not who I was. And I won’t be again. I see this process as a chance to clear, to untether, and untie myself from old patterns and expectations I set for myself and have continuously revisited. This process creates openings, fissures, spaces in which to expand and grow.

Clearing:

I crawl under my bed, to the far corners of cobwebs and dog hair. I pick up a piece of an art sculpture that has disintegrated and fallen off of my wall and nestled in between the floorboards and the bedpost. On my belly, I feel my chest rise and heave a spontaneous clearing of tears. There is hurt trapped here. And it is time to let her go.

I am clearing out old relationships and friendships that are destructive and unhealthy. I have cut ties with people that are selfish, dishonorable, and unfaithful. And this has been a very painful process. Cutting ties is not easy. I feel regret about this letting go almost every day. Yet, clearly defining what I want and need out of a reciprocal relationship is healthy and freeing. Friendships are supposed to be loving, kind, generous, faithful and completely honest. I will not stand for or surround myself with anything less than that.

One of my favorite patterns has been to feel guilty. I’m not quite sure where this guilt cycle comes from, but I have trained myself to try and meet others’ expectations, to help, to coddle and to care give. While  this behavior may be read as empathetic, it can also be seen as self destructive. Forgiveness and an open heart are important but so is a backbone and self respect. How you honor your self is reflected in how you honor others. I only now surround myself with honorable people. I feel clear, clean and honorable making that decision.

Untethering:

I pull a letter from the dusty cardboard box. He wrote it to me years ago. Heck, I think he wrote it almost 20 years ago. This love letter, full of expectation and desire, of recognition and hope, reminds me of all of the love I have let go of in the past. Not to sound overconfident, I have experienced many different forms of love. And I have let go of almost all of them. I run through love memories like spinning yarn on a spindle, ticking through my consciousness. I see him. I hear her. I feel him against my neck. I hear her laugh. I run my hand to his chin. The kiss.

Then the loss–I can feel the weight of lost love, a grief crumpled into my chest. I remember the inability to get out of bed.

Then comes the moment of rebirth, the rise from the ashes. The renewal. I can hear the way I narrate the renewal, see myself as new, as stronger for having love and lost (again). The risk, the faith, and the fall symbiotically transform a person.

I hold his letter in my dirt covered hand and remember Chris specifically–his laugh, the perfect gap between his two front teeth, the way he played with his sweet dog Harley. I can remember the way he looked at me with his bright blue eyes and held me with his strong tattooed arms. He was so full of love and kindness. He would have loved me for a lifetime. And he asked to love me for a lifetime. But I left. (again).

This pattern of my leaving is intimately connected to my limiting expectations. Because of these desires, I create unrealistic expectations for my partners, or I choose partners that I know won’t or can’t stay. These expectations are deeply connected to my fear–that if I stay long enough to be completely vulnerable then they might leave. I untether my self from this fear, these expectations. They do not serve me. The person, my partner, will love me in all of my vulnerability, flaws, and faults. And I will let them.

Opening:

In the clearing and untethering, I make space for love, light, grace and kindness.