Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for Personal

Mindful

The music starts to play, lightly, the piano sings a soft lullaby, lulling your mind, sweeping your thoughts into currents and eddies, floating effortlessly, moving with the air, with the wind. You watch the keys dance, ivory white leaping and diving in a choreographed ballet with their jet black partners following in suit. It’s as if that’s all they know, because it is all they know and all they will ever know. Their purpose and their intention being to follow their bony puppeteers, the true orchestrators, and translate thought into harmonious cadence, inviting unsuspecting listeners to be swept up in sweet serenity.

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I’ve known love once

I’ve known love once. I fell in love once. I don’t think I knew what was happening, because I had never known love before. He was beautiful, he was charming, he adored me. Slowly, we fell in love. And there were moments, those outer body moments, where it was like I was watching us, so in love, wanting that moment to last forever and wondering if everyone in this world has felt bliss like that. I wanted to live in that heaven for eternity, laughing, smiling and in utter bliss. We had such beautiful moments, full of passion, utterly real, two people completely vulnerable, honest, and wrapped up in each other. I loved the way in smelled, the way he felt- his skin, his hair, his jaw, I loved the way my eyes met his. He showed me himself, he gave me everything. Needless to say, that when it ended, it was like a sucker-punch to the stomach, the wind was knocked out me, I saw my utopia disintegrate in front of my eyes, my heaven shattered. And in a split second, he was gone. I found myself alone, without my lover, my best friend, my person. I’ve never felt such pain, such distress, such confusion, such longing, such loss, such sorrow. It was like a death. I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t fathom how a love like that could fall, break, dissolve, disappear…. simply end. I don’t think I understand it fully, even to this day…. I don’t know if I ever will, but maybe that is because I was only half of it, half of us. But also, I don’t think any answer or reasoning will ever satisfy my deep sorrow for why it ended. Why our love wasn’t enough, why we couldn’t make it work. Still, I think I have gained some understanding, some closure, some peace because in my heart and in my mind, I know it wasn’t right, I know that if I went back it would have been settling, it would have been dishonest, it would have been cowardly, it would have been out of fear of being alone. So, there are two things I now know for sure: we were deeply in love and we should not be together.

Do I regret falling in love now knowing the gut-wrenching pain that followed when it ended? No, I don’t. I would never and could never regret that. Because now I have known what love is, what it feels like to love someone so deeply, and to be loved by someone so deeply. It’s like nothing else I’ve known. That gives me hope, that gives me excitement that there is even more to discover. It seemed like and still seems like finding love is like hoping for lightening to strike you. It seems like such a beautiful, awe-inspiring, and amazing thing like love would be such a rarity, that to be able to discover it again may be every so close to impossible, but I’ll take that odds. I, right here and now, take those odds, I bet on myself, I bet on love. Always bet on love. I’m better for the experience, I am more knowledgable and more understanding of what’s out there, and I’m even more excited and eager to discover what I have yet to know or experience. As I peer out towards the future, the unknown excites me, who I will become excites me, and who I will come to know excites me. I’m not waiting for love, I’m not putting my life, my aspirations, my dreams on hold, but I’m hopeful. Hopeful that I will find another love that is deeper, truer, and more enlightening than my last. I sit here, at peace, happy and ever so hopeful.

What is it?

What is it about a man?

Is it his eyes, that pierce straight into yours, beautiful blues and greens. Is it his smile? That genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. Is it his jaw? Strong, firm and covered in soft facial hair. Is it his shoulders? His arms? His hands? That pull you in and hold you tight at night, that pick you up and twirl you around, that wipe away the tears from your eyes. Is it his chest? The most heavenly place to rest your head and allow your mind to wander as you feel each and every lub dub. Is it his legs? Long, lean, powerful and able to run beside you. Is it his smell? So intoxicating, it smells of home, of familiarity. It’s a smell that comforts, that reminds you in an instant of the essence of him. Is it his mind? Utterly complex. A mind that knows the world but remains untarnished and unjaded, a mind that is humble and kind, patient and loving, giving and truthful.

What is it about a man?

The beauty and the bliss

Is it the loneliness? Is it the quiet? What makes heartbreak so darn heartbreaking?

It’s been 3 months, and I still think about him every day. I feel my mind, my brain enjoys to revisit him in my memories. I feel my mind likes to revisit those thoughts, those moments that are so effortlessly permanent and accessible. As if my brain finds solace to go back, dig through the mess, the months, the days, to sift through it all and pull out the beauty and the bliss. Those moments of us laying in bed together, staring into each others eyes. Those moments of us making love so passionately. Those moments of us running and laughing, with such joy. Those moments of us holding handing across the table, having deep conversations about what makes us human. Those moments when I laid on his chest as he stroked my hair and I could so clearly envision our future, the years together, growing old, and going through life hand in hand, heart in heart.

I think we really, deeply loved each other. I think that’s rare to find. I think having a first love that deep and that true, well I think I’m lucky to have had that. I know I am. We were so in love, and I didn’t realize how deeply until after it ended. He expressed it often, and he expressed it sincerely. I never knew what that felt like. I never knew I could develop such a personal and raw connection with someone… a connection that held no ego, no whims, no frills. It was just us, ourselves.

And when it was great, it was truly great. And I can recall moments when I laid in bed with him, smiling ear to ear, laughing and really being present and realizing what bliss we had. I remember questioning if this could last, if this could continue forever. I remember thinking that I could live in that moment forever with him, in his arms. And I sit here, writing this, with tears running down my face, because…. because it hurts to have loved so deeply and to know, and understand that that person is gone from my life, cut out completely, a person who I loved so deeply, who cared for me so profoundly… is gone.

It’s hard, even now, to grapple everything that happened during those 13 months. But more importantly, it’s hard to understand, to really dissect and understand why we didn’t work. Why we fought, why we didn’t communicate, why we butted heads, why he kicked me out of his life, why I wouldn’t take him back. It’s hard to understand why someone who you love so much, could cause so much pain. Both in the moment, with words, but also now, with the absence of words. I wish so badly that we could be friends, because I find it so terrible, so fucking unfair that I cannot have any semblance of a relationship with the man who held my heart, who loved me so deeply, who taught me so much about myself and about the world, with the man who made such an impression in my life… why the hell can we not be friendly, why can we not for the sake of those blissful moments just leave things on good terms. Why does he have such animosity towards me ? He once said he would always love me, even if he hated me he would always love me. Where does that love go? Does it stay in the past, does it stay with those memories, superglued to our youthful selves, nestled within our soft kisses and warm embraces.

It’s hard. It really is hard to let go. I read once in a book about Buddhism that life is a constant process of letting go, of people, of places, of experiences. I think, during heartbreak, we so desperately want to hold on to the love, to the happiness, to those memories that made it all worth it, to that person that turned our world upside down, inside out and showed us a new version of the world that held endless possibility, wonder and promise. It’s difficult to let that person go, those moments go. It’s equally difficult to have faith, to somehow believe and trust that you will find someone just as powerful and influential again. Call me a skeptic, but it’s hard to believe one can struck by lightening twice. Something that felt so rare, so pure, so perfect. And it’s even harder to believe that one will find someone better, someone who is more compatible, someone who will stand the test of time, the ups and downs, someone who will weather the stormiest of fights and hold you forever.

As humans, we crave connection, we crave love, we crave unconditional acceptance, we crave companionship. I found it once. And I lost it once. I’m finding that losing it is almost as difficult as finding it. But, I firmly believe, that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. And now that I’ve had a taste of it, of that beautiful love, of that deep and profound love… I know I’ll be chasing it again and again, perhaps forever.

 

 

Heavy

My mind is heavy, it’s weary even in its youth. Weighed down by tired thoughts that seem to stream through on repeat again, and again. It’s as if my mind is a junkyard, filled with dust and debris scattered here and there. On one side there’s a stack of cars, piled perhaps 10 high, flattened and weathered with worn tires from the miles they traveled, from the world they have seen. On the other, broken and forgotten pieces of home, buried toys of a childhood that is long gone.

Hallelujah- Jeff Buckley

You can feel the music, you can feel the love in the notes. You can feel his heart, his passion, with each pluck of the strings. It stirs something inside of you, the way he plays so freely, so uninhibited. It’s beautiful. No expectations, no judgements, just music that seems so effortless, so easy.

 

Hallelujah

I close my eyes, I feel my breath. I feel my chest rise and fall, my heart beats calmly. I listen to the melody, I bask in the beauty. I see the ocean, I see the sky and the clouds. I see the waves roll in, blue water washing ashore. I feel the sun, warm and strong. I feel it in my bones. I feel connected, I feel in place, I feel a part. All is right with the world, in this moment, all is right. I peer out, as far as the eye can see, nothing but blue skies and ocean stretching across the horizon. And in this moment, that’s all there is. Hallelujah