Copyright © by P. R. Lowe August 23, 2010
It is a sobering awakening; an almost indescribable feeling in the pit of one’s gut, that rises up to engulf the chest like a cruel fist, when the awareness first comes, that you may not be loved by a particular someone in the way you believed you were. Your balloon has slipped your grasp and sailed away. Your balloon is burst and lies somewhere on a forest floor, flat and undiscovered. All illusion is shattered. You are on the shore of an uninhabited island, watching all the boats sail without you. And there is nothing to be done, for it is a knowing that cannot readily be shared or quickly digested.
Often the other is in denial or you have simply fallen upon a truth before they have. It is a truth that hangs like an interfering water droplet at the end of a delicate and fragile web, and as it’s tiny spider and co-creator you either work diligently and indefinitely to reinforce it, or you may pull it all back in and build another web elsewhere.. But that space, where you once were, remains awhile in the psyche, shrinking over time until it becomes a spot on your heart, like a tick on a raccoon that the poor creature cannot reach or be rid of. In time it may get it’s fill of blood and eventually explode or it may become agitating enough that you begin to dance; some sort of movement or gyration to free yourself and clear your heart….. of all ticks.
All of this washed over me unexpectedly and seemingly disjoined this morning as I walked the long and silent gravel road, surrounded on both sides by verdant mountains, and the abundant flora and fauna of late summer. I was not thinking of love or the lack of, when a chainsaw broke the silence and I heard an agonizing, drawn-out and groaning “creee-ack!”, as a large tree separated from it’s foundation and fell hard on the earth. Really? One would think I would be used to this by now , as timber companies have moved into the county, taking full advantage of the “economy fear”, sending out letters to all forest land owners offering to buy their trees (and enticing with salvation from deprivation). But there it was, that “indescribable feeling in the pit of one’s gut” described in the first paragraph.
One would also think that I would have become accustomed, by now, to the notion that love may not always pan out to be what I know at some level it truly is. And the connection was made: it is the same sort of feeling that I get when I hear a healthy tree fall in surrender to a buzzing chain saw. I may understand it; the actions and reactions that brought us here, I may even find a path of logic for the whys and wherefores that lead to a concomitant result…yet, some primitive notion of how the world could be, should be, might be….. and in truth actually is, remains latent, although invisible and seemingly unattainable in these moments.
In these moments I have been awash with grief and despair but am now beginning to understand that it is not about what I may not be getting or what is seemingly being taken away; that wishing to possess anything or entity in a place of sameness is a futile past time, (even myself and my own opinions); a struggle that creates more of the same. I find myself beginning to see the fluidity of life and desire to place myself upon it as a boat on the sea. I am learning that love is a “sending out” wave and not a “sucking in”, and one must develop enough for the entirety to break the cycle.
As so often in these times, the opposites arise for our embrace; where there is little love or the lack of, learn to love more not less; where there is little or no compassion or empathy, one might practice forgiveness, where there is ignorance one might develop more tolerance and adaptability.
And perhaps the most challenging of all: Fear. If you feel you are being chased to the edge of the cliff…..jump!
Fighting fire with fire may temporarily put out a flame, but it also destroys everything that is worth having.