I Want A Love I Can See

I watched a lovely movie tonight, The Soloist. It's about showing up for your people (and all the other things listed below in the labels), and that message really resonates for me right now as I observe the people in my life who show up for me and those who don't.

One of the songs from the soundtrack is this one, which also really resonated tonight:

I want a love I can see. (Ah-Pow-Pow)
That's the only kind that means a thing to me. (Ah-Pow-Pow)
Don't want a love you have to tell me about. (Ah-Pow-Pow)
That kind of loving I can sure do without. (I can sure do without)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I want a love I can feel. (Doo-Doo)
That's the only kind of loving I think it's real. (Doo-Doo)
Don't want to be quoted by something I heard now. (Doo-Doo)
'Cause baby action speaks louder than words. (Ah, louder than words)

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I want a love that's mine. (I want a love, that's mine)
In the rain or in sun, sun, sunshine. (I want a love, that's mine)
A love to keep warm when it's cold. (I want a love, that's mine)
The kind of love that will never grow old. (Never grow old)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh-uh-huh

(Don't you know I want a love)
(Why don't you know I want a love)
(Why don't you know I want a love)

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Want a love I can see. (I wanna love I can see)
The kind of love you can give to me. (Give to me)
The kind of kisses to make, make me melt. (Ooo, make me melt)
The kind of love that can really be felt, now. (Really be felt)

Yeah, yeah, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby... I
Yeah, I want her love now.
The kind of love that can be felt.
Uh-huh. Yeah

I've learned that I'm now fully capable of giving the kind of love that can be felt. For my next trick, I'm going to figure out the receiving of that kind of love...

El Condor Pasa

When I was at the gym today to teach yoga, I remembered that every year the owner leaves $20 in all the employees' mailboxes to say thank you and Merry Christmas. It's not a lot of money, but I didn't have any plans, so I decided to see if I could take myself to dinner and a movie on it.

This past year, or maybe the year before, I read the book Wild and loved it, so I've been excited to see the movie.

It did not disappoint. In fact, it was positively cathartic for where I am in my life right now, which is at a place of acceptance about being apart from the man with whom I thought for sure I'd spend the rest of my life. The movie helped remind me that this actually happens a lot -- including to the author, who gets divorced from her first husband even though they love each other deeply. It happens, I am now telling myself. It's not just you. You don't have to take this personally. You can just accept that sometimes you get to choose and sometimes you don't.

This song, from the movie's phenomenal soundtrack, is a great reminder of that too:

I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail
Yes I would
If I could, I surely would
Hmm mmm

I'd rather be a hammer than a nail
Yes I would
If I only could, I surely would
Hmm mmm

Away, I'd rather sail away
Like a swan that's here and gone
A man gets tied up to the ground
He gives the world its saddest sound, its saddest sound
Hmm mmm

I'd rather be a forest than a street
Yes I would
If I could, I surely would

I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet
Yes I would
If I only could, I surely would

For today, I can still feel the earth beneath my feet. It's chilly at the moment, but I can feel it. And that connection is all I need to keep healing.

And I'd be remiss if I didn't report that I also managed to buy myself dinner with the rest of my cash: Chile Verde from Pasqual's, one of my faves...

Fire and Rain

Today I went to a "wellness day" at the place where I go for my trauma recovery group. It started with a breath practice for grief, which was difficult, but also useful, and my biggest takeaway from that is that I can let whatever is causing the grief -- in my case being separated from my love -- into my heart. I don't have to push it away, as I have tried to do. I can let it in. So I'm going to keep working on that, the theory being that once I can just let it be there, I'll be freer in the rest of my life.

Next I went to a talk that was supposed to be about the attachment loss experienced by those of us who went through developmental trauma, but it actually wasn't really about that. It was about how to approach yourself and world with openness, curiousity, even-handedness and love. It was definitely useful, and I asked the presenter a question about how to apply it to my situation with the New Englander. I found her answer really helpful. She said that it might be about accepting my love for him as part of my path, and similarly, accepting the pain that comes from the separation as part of my path in this life too. There's something pretty peaceful about that, so I'm trying my best.

The last session I went to before heading to my sister's to pick up my kids was Reiki with a new practitioner -- not the one I usually see. She had two takeaways for me: 1) there's nothing to be done about my situation, I just need to be with it (sounds familiar!); 2) I need to work on receiving.

I picked up some free books on my way out the door, one of which is called The Healing Path of Prayer. I started reading it today, and as I did, I heard this classic on the internal sound system:

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, You've got to help me make a stand.
You've just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching and my time is at hand and I won't make it any other way.
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around.
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
but I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again, now.

Thought I'd see you one more time again.
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now.
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you, fire and rain, now.

I still do think I'll see him, just don't know where or when. In the meantime, I'm hoping to open up some channels that may well have been closed for a while...