Your veil has quietly become a nun

I miss writing here. I seem to have a lot to say these days. Even though I am in solitude, and trying to make choices to protect my solitude, the last week has been a flurry of outward activity: dear friends old and new, near and far. I feel incredibly blessed.

Interacting with people again – from a point of effortless sharing, whereas during most of the last five months (holy shit: five months) it’s taken a concentrated effort to open myself to anyone, which left me exhausted and needing time to re-balance – is wonderful. It’s like meeting myself anew, and I’m sure it’s that way for others too. I also feel I’m meeting friends – even old ones – more honestly, like I can meet them more as they are because my old neediness is restrained now. Tristan said to me on the phone yesterday, “I like this new Kaeti.” “Tristan, the new and improved me is soooooooo much better,” I grinned. I noticed that one of my last blogs, from almost a month ago, was after I spent a day with Kristin and realized how needy I was. Today I also spent the afternoon with Kristin, and feel just the opposite: grounded, totally myself, elated to have this space and this self to share with anyone willing to come sit with me. Not having anything in particular to give, and needing nothing, but full of feelings to share for their own sake. It’s such a grounding place to be, and I know when people come into my space it affects them that way too. Magical things are happening here. Letting go of the neediness, dedicating myself to the kind of centered erotic openness that’s been buoying me – just that beginning dedication is already manifesting beautiful new people and opportunities in my life.

The pervasive Eros I wrote about last month is still…pervading. It was really intense last month because I hadn’t yet begun to untangle it from the neediness, I didn’t yet have my space to do that work. It was incredibly confusing to be full of this feeling with no object to pin it to, not knowing how to simply embody it, without even being aware that I was yearning for an object.

Every day it’s still inside me, but it’s evolving. Not quite “lust for life” – none of that desperation. It’s not at all a desperate feeling. Yesterday it filled me so completely that I ran and leapt onto my bed and just lay there in the sun for an hour, in complete reverie, smiling like a fool, in total bliss over nothing more than existence. It’s a feeling that I always thought, and sometimes still catch myself thinking, wants touch – but it doesn’t, it’s completely self-sufficient.

I can’t think of a better way to put it than how I said it above: untangling eros from need. What’s helped me with this most is recent intense correspondence with a newish cyber-friend, which has naturally developed into a “crush” sort of feeling. To be offered a space in which total honesty is accepted open-handed is a tremendous gift. For the first time, it’s very clear which feelings stem from the open centered eros, and which are old patterns of obsessive neediness and avoidance – which feelings come from this new me, and which come from some little child inside, and listening to both from a grounded place – I’m not even sure what the need is for, but it’s clear: a shaky, muted, hooking feeling that dissolves almost as soon as I acknowledge it. I feel as if the process of untangling these very different sources of emotion is washing my heart clean. My heart was a pretty clogged place, but clearer every day. It’s a process that’s spilling over and healing my other relationships too. As I let people get to know me again – the cyberfriend, new friends in my building, old friends who haven’t been around me in years – I get to know me again too. I tell my stories, and each time I revisit a piece of my past I feel that me gathered back into my fold, integrating. Maybe three years ago, in Portland, I had a dream-vision of a little man with a sea-bird skull for a hat, and he took me to a graveyard where all my old selves, all the way back to childhood, were buried. This feels, now, like a resurrection.

Today would have been 6 years in my last relationship. A year ago today I woke up in the morning and couldn’t stop crying, spilling over onto my patiently listening mom. I knew, without being able to really acknowledge, that I had to be on my own next year, that I couldn’t do another year of that. So today is a double independence day. I made it.


~ by Arrrow Marie on July 4, 2009.

One Response to “Your veil has quietly become a nun”

  1. You are incredible.

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