I hope you feel the same.
I hope you feel the same.
So I didn’t go to Brussels with the Buddhists as I expected this weekend, but it was the first time in a very long time Paris was sunny and warm enough so it was comfortable walking around in a winter coat.
Paris is amazing. It really is. It is enough.
There is something special about it, still, always, forever.
I don’t regret falling in love with Paris at all, and I almost feel like I don’t need to travel, really. It would be a nice extra, but it’s not the only thing in my life. Well, maybe it is still semi essential but the beauty of my regular life is apparent to me again. I am feeling the joie de vivre. I am no longer the shell of a person I’ve been for the longest time.
I treated myself to a massage today, and the feeling rose upon me that there is absolutely nothing I could have done to avoid my depression and all the problems that came with it. Seriously. There’s nothing I could have done differently, and if I had picked an entirely different path in life, I would have suffered from the same root problems even if they manifested slightly differently, although my hunch is that they would ahve manifested the same way whether I became a teacher or an artist.
And so i am finally alive again, in love with life again, feeling able to love again, and the colors haven’t been so bright in years.
I had to turn into liquid and be bound in my coccoon for all that time, but the time is coming to fly, finally.
Johnny Cash on Paradise:
This morning, with her, having coffee.
Today I missed you more than usual. We talked on gchat though, but you aren’t mine so I didn’t send you any kisses.
To be honest, when we were together, I didn’t think you were that special. I mean, I didn’t think you could ever be the one, and I thought I might like you just because you were there, and it had been a long time since I’d had someone nice in my life. We didn’t stay up till all hours talking, you were (and are) really cute and the sex was usually pretty great so I wasn’t sure it was a real soul connection, just two people enjoying each other.
The truth is, I did know someone who felt like 7th heaven and the most intimacy I’d ever known for a brief moment, but he was never really mine the way you were. The one night I had with him, I thought his snores were cute and our cuddling bodies fit perfectly. The nights I spent you with, we knew our days together might be limited but they were also just everyday days.
My favorite moment with you has nothing to do with the magic of our meeting, or the best sex of my life, or even when you met my family and they loved you and you loved them and I was jealous of how much you played with my dog instead of spending every second with me.
My favorite memory is the first time I came to your house, and you made me dinner in return for the few times I had made you dinner, at my request, so I could try a typical dish from your country. It was tasty enough but my cooking is better.
We were done eating and having sex and were just sitting on your couch together, in your tiny house you lived all alone that was the same size as the house I grew up in. You put my legs on your lap and I leaned on you and shut my eyes while you watched boxing. I knew I was happy in that moment, but I didn’t realize how special the moment was until after.
And that even though you weren’t the perfect scantron boyfriend, you were really the best I ever had and the one I thought was the One would never be more than a dream, and probably out of kindness completely walked out of my life when I wouldn’t let the dream go. I fought for the dream but I didn’t fight for the imperfect reality of you.
You are not a perfect person to be sure but maybe I did drive you away with my distrust of you ever really liking me. I don’t think I ever gave you a chance to really love me, when I assumed there could never be nothing serious since you didn’t check the boxes and we didn’t come from the same background.
It was really difficult to know we’d have to say goodbye in two months from the moment we met, and I’m not mad we didn’t try to do long distance but like everything, I felt it as a rejection and that I wasn’t good enough.
I missed you so much, and I was so mad every time I doubted you felt the same way.
To think for three years we could have seen each other and neither thought the other was willing.
I can guess why you didn’t want to see me, with the last time we saw each other beign with my prejudiced friend warning me against you and telling me I could do so much better, and I assumed you didn’t really want me anyway.
Well now, here we are.
Maybe we will get another chance someday, maybe we won’t.
But please know, even if I didn’t know it at the time, I really loved you that moment on the sofa. And that time we had breakfast together, awkward, knowing it would be our first and last time to wake up together in your house. You were so beautiful and carefree and it was so sad and you were a little more serious than your usual happy go lucky self I was just beginning to know. And I loved you while you waited for the metro with me, holding my hands in the cold, kissing me with your slightly awkward wolfish kisses that made me feel like a lamb, respectfully though, just for me and not to show the whole world we were together. I didn’t feel the power of your kisses the way I felt the night of kissing with the one who was supposed to be the One, but maybe that was because I was young and not very wise. I didn’t know if you were so precious because I was lonely and it was an experience for the memoirs or because I really liked you, when we had really fallen in love at first sight and I decided to trust you before knowing you then got scared.
It was so much easier to put you in a box, to say you didn’t really want me and I wouldn’t want you for a longer term, and the One was going to work his way back to me and my life would go on as I had planned it. I thought you were a souvenir, and were too precious and rare and strange to be my everyday cup of happiness.
I’m sure if I want paradise, I will have to throw away the original box that has the cushion for the memory and ensures it can safely be displayed but just for the season.
I’m so happy you fell off the shelf and into my life once more, and so happy these precious moments weren’t so fragile, after all this time.
I’ve spent the weekend with Diamond Way Buddhists at the local center, thanks to someone awesome who commented on my blog.
While this method of spirituality may not be for everyone, I’ve found it incredibly liberating and refreshing. Growing up as a Catholic, I just began to allow myself to openly question things about a year ago, about the same time I went to a psychologist because I couldn’t seem to shake the blues and the self sabotage that went with it.
What if I told you, there is nothing wrong with you, or with the world? What if I told you, we are neither fallen angels nor risen apes, but much bigger than our bodies?
What if I told you that that the universe arises out of spontaneous joy in infinite space, and is held together by love?
What if I told you that nothing but your own awareness was needed to find limitless, abiding joy, and there is no hierarchy or magic word or holy book to separate you from the truth of all that is?
There is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with you.
You, and every other sentient building, has the potential to live in endless joy.
“You” is just an illusion- you are actually part of all that is, and all that is, is good.
There is no sin, just karma- cause and effect.
There is no shame, because we are all Buddha.
There is no God separate from the universe. Read that again.
Emmanuel, “God with us,” is true always and everywhere, not just under the specific conditions of a Jewish messiah.
Buddha is not a god, it’s just a state we all have within us, but veiled.
There is nothing to “attain,” nothng to strive for, we already are all that is.
All we have to do is wake up.
Have fun 🙂
When love finds me, I will not be perfect. I will be a work in progress. I will not have figured out everything I want from life. I will be liable to being changed by love, to having my life’s path altered profoundly.
When loves finds me, my apartment might not be clean, and my legs might not be shaved. I might have eaten garlic earlier in the day.
When love finds me, I probably won’t be sure of what kind of marriage ceremony I want, exactly what religion I identify with, or where I want to live for the rest of my life, or what I want to do.
When love finds me, despite all my wisdom and adventures and courage and values, I will be a blank canvas for love to write on. I will not be the same person after having loved and been loved.
When love finds me, I won’t be able to predict where I’ll be in five or ten years. I will be the same free spirit, if not made freer by time and maturity.
When love finds me, I will not be a virgin physically, but I will be a virgin in all the ways that matter. I will have never have known the gentle touch or passionate penetration of mature love with a kind, gentle man who appeals to my wiser self, and I will tremble in anticipation and trepidation. I will be innocent, I will be vulnerable.
When love finds me, I will not know for sure if and when I want children. I will not know if I am to be a nomad or a sedentary soul. I will not know what lands I will dwell in for the remainder of my days.
When love finds me, I won’t know how much money I will make in the next year, or my lifetime future earning potential, or how many careers I have, or when I’ll be able to afford to retire, or if I even want to.
When love finds me, even the past will not be solid- it will be a story I have revised a thousand times and will relearn a million more. The songs I sang as a child will not be as sacred as the songs I’ll sing to our children, and my mother tongue won’t be as important as the person I have chosen, and will choose in the future, to be.
When love finds me, I’ll have found the present moment, because that’s the only place we will ever meet, for a day or a month or sixty years, for eternity or for an hour.
When love finds me, it will take all the courage of leaving my home country and to lay a cornerstone on a piece of land that speaks to me and decide, upon this rock I will build my life.
When love finds me, I will know that nothing is solid, everything is air and empty, but fraught with the meaning we give it; that I am me is an illusion, yet somehow in some non-dualistic way,. “we” will be the only true word ever spoken.
So I am probably going to end up going full-on Buddhist. I went back to the group that one of my commenters recommended, and I am scared shitless of falling down the rabbit hole of another organized religion and being a white chick doing yoga type of spiritual materialist and all those other judgey things, but mostly of going to hell, and what my parents will think (hint- the same thing). The truth at this point is that even if my parents said fine and dandy it’s’ awesome, the younger and harsher versions of themselves that parented me at 3 are still crying out NOOOOO in my head and shoving Cheerios in my mouth to make me shut up at church and mostly just wanting me to be a good girl and a good example for my younger sister. Those parents (in my head) have hated me since the beginning of time since I ‘m not perfect, and always will, so I guess I should tell them to fucking go to hell instead.
So basically the cornerstone of my life is rocking, and it’s quite a ride! My ego is going insane, secretly, silently, kind of in denial. WIll I completely turn my back on Jesus and GOd and the Catholic Church? Probably not, but I might google something like “historicity of the resurrection” and learn about Gnosticism and how early Christian ripped off the Neo Platonists to make us hate our bodies and those crazy Cathars and all that jazz. It might be a wild ride.
ANd then, and then, and then, I have to face the truth that not only am I not fulfilled in my job and not challenged and that’s one f the reasons I love vacation so much, but also that I do have a pretty good idea of what I would like to do in my life. Thing is, I do want to be an executive, but not in the kind of structure I currently work on or dealing with the products Icurrenttly work with. CMO hell yeah especially if I get an assistant to deal withthe paperwork but mostly yeah, I love marketing and communications, and even business, it’s just that I care about where my efforts are going and even though I am a good girl who follows the rules really, I should not spend my whole life in corporate. Mostly because, the structure is holding me back from giving my best rather than really supporting me. And I don’t feel I can be anything close to my whole self there, and I dare beleive there is something better.
Next, I am scared absolutely shitless of making any kind of move, because maybe in a year I”m in line for a promotion and I love my boss and overall things aren’t bad at all and overall I like what I am doing. It could be much worse, and I have hella vacation days and work for a well known company and have a retirement plan and all that and a bag of chips. Seriously. And the other thing I realized with a start a few months ago in the psychologist’s chair was that I like spending time with the people at work more than my actual family to a large extent and the one thing that’s been constant in my journey since moving to france has been working for a long, stable, trusted corporation, the kind that when you say you work there people know you have done something right in your life. And yet, I have the feeling that some but not all among them are blocked creatives in some way, and when I got an opportunity to do something with a start up on a part time basis I went nuts and realized how much more I could do. Not in terms of hours, in terms of contribution, and that no, I wouldn’t work for free for my current firm nor spend money to work there, I even sometimes resent the money I need to spend to keep my image just so, and I can’t beliee myself that I work in such a structured place with such a feeling of scarcity that it takes a year to get a promotion through during which I will have already been doing the job yet not receieve the pay or wahtever.
So there’s that. I’m terrified of changing to the point that I let my LinkedIn profile look like shit and I don’t market myself as well as I could by a very long shot.
Ok so another not so fun fact. I travel constantly because I am not happy with my social life here. It seems more useful to go do somethign amazing rather than just stay here and be sad I don’t have that many friends or at least not that many of the caliber I want (more on that later). I love Paris but have spent the last two years avoiding it. At some point I am not sure if I want to live anywhere, and I do miss the countryside to an extent and I do have good friends and may not wnat to move immediately and stuff, but yeah. I haven’t found back the atmosphere that drew me here in the first place, but facing these unconvenient truths should be a good start. Paris has really challenged me.
Next, I broke up with one friend because I realized he’s depressing and controlling and posessive during my trip with him to Ukraine, and he’s another blocked creative that no amount of money in the bank nor paid off debt will ever free, and he’s actually kind of a bumme rto be around a lot of the time which is why when I try to combine him with other friends it doesn’t work. e was my best friend at work, and blocked creative is a great way to describe him.
And then there’s the friend I am about to go meet, who helped me find my first apartment in Paris and who s still delusionally in love with the city around 9 yuears on despite not having an active social life nor purpose for being here. Maybe some things in life don’t require purpose, but while I am exploring Buddhism, she’s experimenting with party drugs and claims not to want a long term relationship, so there’s that. Psychologist thinks she’s home away from hom enad remind sme of my family (who she thinks I need to limit my exposure to because they bring me down in subtle and not so subtle ways) and I should limit my time with her. Pretty much every time se suggests to do something I”m late and or have something else I would prefer to be doing so I guess that sums it up.
O, and I finally saw Y again, and he’s beautiful and sweet. But still not returning emails, so fuck him but not really because apparently he’s sick. I don’t know what his deal is, but he has a girlfirned and thisis probably never going to happen and that’s a good thing. He’s great but he’s not the right fit for me except when he was a beautiful stranger, when he became my beautiful lover he wasn’t that keen on trying to switch things up in be,d not that I was that forthcoming, so guess I can’t blame him entirely, but yeah it’s no coincidence it took us four years practically to see each other again and he hasn’t responded to my emails in about three weeks. There’s always something to blame but come on, my first insinct that I didn’t want to go repeating the past with a dead end thing with no future was spot on.
And yes, I want a man and I want babies and I keep picturing myself in a small cute house in the mountains and a locaiton independent job and a chill life and no more masks and no more bullshit or very, very little of it. I guess that’s all I can hope for myself.
Also I think I should probably make an attempt t o make a good man through a shared activity or interest, not necessarily travel because that’s a way of finding an incompatible relationship that will never work, r is likely not to and to avoid being in relationship and being happy with someone to snuggle with.
I don’t actually want or need crazy sex stories. I need someone to have crazy sexy love with, and to commit to despite knowing what the future holds and that they are an imperfect being as am I, and that is heartbreaking.
I need to fucking getdown to writing my travel blog or at elast my other blog.
PS I need to clean my house so bad and deal with all my paperwork and bills and budget for the year and make a calendar and go grocery shopping and do laundry and attend to all the pesky details of life that keep screwing me up and don’t let me be my best.
And to do that I need to chill the fuck out about traveling. Iwill be well served if I can just put that money towards a bigger trip or lower debt. I shouldn’t have to travel constantly to feel sane and happy.
I should be happy in the place that I live, that I work, with the people near by to me, and I just need to chill the fuck out and accept who I really am.
Love you all. Namaste.