Harvest Moon

Last night after a late afternoon cross country ski, my boyfriend and I watched a very sad, but very lovely movie called Away From Her. The movie is about a couple coping with the devastating effects of Alzheimer's disease, but mostly, it's about love. When I saw the movie for the first time, it made me realize this was the kind of love I was seeking, and it motivated me to make finding that love one of my primary aims of the remainder of my time on this planet.

The first step was to both find and fall in love with myself. I set off on that path alone -- I was the only person who could decide to make that my work -- but I called on lots of people to support me, including friends, therapists, bodyworkers of various types, and a number of spiritual teachers whom I accessed through books, guided meditations, and in person during yoga classes and various retreats. I wanted to clear away what was blocking me from being able to fully embrace loving a man.

I was quite successful, but as I alluded to in yesterday's post, I wasn't entirely successful on my own. It took falling in love with a man whose heart I found incredibly willing -- the incredible part being his willingness to both help me continue to clear away the old wounds (wounds that were deep and wide and that triggered some of his old wounds, too) and his willingness to move halfway across the country to be with me -- to fully fall in love with myself. From the beginning of our time together, he saw my light, and continuously reflected it back at me, and I had the benefit of seeing myself through his eyes.

Now here we are, more than two years down the road, and I feel in myself both the desire and the willingness to embrace that love, to decide that we're going to be partners in this adventure we call life.

The problem is, by his own admission and as evidenced by his actions, his heart isn't feeling as willing as it was in the beginning. In my estimation, he's experienced a lot of the healing that I've experienced in this relationship, by loving and being loved, but he hasn't made the decision to do the work of clearing away the old wounds. In fact, he's specifically said that he doesn't think he needs to do that, at times choosing to hold on to both behaviors and belief patterns that don't serve his highest good or the people around him.

When I awoke this morning, I thought about what I had written about yesterday, and I realized that I am not a dwarf, I am a divorced woman with two children who has loved and lost and worked incredibly hard to reclaim her right to a great love. And as such, I need more in a partner than loyalty, honor, and a willing heart, though I do agree those are necessary.

I need someone who has decided to raise his level of consciousness beyond the old tapes that we all (or at least those of us who had difficult childhoods) go into adulthood with, tapes that are filled with messages that limit our joy, restrict our degree of safety in the world and in relationships, and teach us that the world is a place of challenge rather than opportunity.

Every single day, I have to renew my commitment to live by a different set of rules, to work to keep my body strong and my heart open, to continuously work to define my priorities for this life and live according to them. Me. I have to do that. No one else can do it for me, anymore than I can do it for anyone else.

Early on in the movie we watched last night, this beautiful song was playing in the background:

Come a little bit closer
Hear what I have to say
Just like children sleepin'
We could dream this night away.

But there's a full moon risin'
Let's go dancin' in the light
We know where the music's playin'
Let's go out and feel the night.

Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon.

When we were strangers
I watched you from afar
When we were lovers
I loved you with all my heart.

Whatever happens with us, I'm grateful to be able to say that I loved him with my whole heart. Still do.

But now it's gettin' late
And the moon is climbin' high
I want to celebrate
See it shinin' in your eye.

That's exactly what I want. I want to celebrate. I want to get married. And I want to do it joyfully. I told him so yesterday, during a pause in our skiing. But he isn't there, and I can't control whether he'll get there. And that's a very vulnerable place to be. When we were talking about this in bed last night, I was trying to articulate the challenge this presents for me, but I couldn't do it.

Now I think I can. My challenge is going to be to stay in love with myself, to continue to recognize my worthiness, to remember that loyalty, honor and a willing heart are needed, perhaps most of all, in our relationships with ourselves. After all, no one else is with us for the whole of our adventure, and those who do choose to be with us are always better off when we remember not to abandon ourselves...