The "All-I'll-Ever-Need" Feeling.

When I've occasionally sat back over the last few months, taking stock of and checking in on my progress towards my New Year's Intentions, I mostly focused on my three goals for the upcoming year:

1.  Face more fears.

2.  Be less controlling.

3.  Watch less TV/spend less time on the internet.

I did the thing that people do when they forget they set goals for themselves to begin with.  There's that quick OH, SHIT feeling, like you forgot your little sister at daycare or something, but then realized your other sister had said she would cover for you that day.  Whew!  (This is how I imagine it went between my older sisters when I was growing up.  Thanks, guys.  I turned out alright and a couple of you even took me trick-or-treating in that awesome pilgrim costume The Mama made for me that I had to wear two years in a row.)

So yeah, I could check in and be like, "Good job, self.  Way to not fuck it up!"  But mostly, it was probably just happenstance that I hadn't tunneled myself into a hole, cut myself off from any human or animal that could judge me, and sit with my eyelids taped open watching old seasons of The Bachelor.

So, it's been a while since I blogged, yeah?  Or maybe you guys haven't noticed.  But here's what happened: everything changed.  I turned everything upside down, turned myself upside down, like, by the toes or something, and just started trying to give myself Shaken Baby Syndrome (bad joke?) until all my shit just came tumbling out of my pockets and onto the floor in front of me so I could see what I was dealing with.  

 

It was like hearing the slow build of a strong wind in the trees, and thinking it's just an airplane passing by overhead.  But then suddenly, you find yourself with your hair whipping around your face, leaves and twigs and dust flying into your eyes, and you wished you'd just prepared a little better or listened to what you were already hearing.

Alright, I'm a little bit of a forest nymph lately.

Isn't this gorgeous?  This is what comes up 

when you Google "forest nymph."

I want to be her when I grow up.

 

Alright, so here goes:  I am no longer engaged.

While this is no news to me (it has been several months), I recognize that, to those of you on the fringe of things, this is big, mouth-agape, eyes-wide news.  And I have been soooooo avoiding answering questions like, "Ohmygaaawwwddd!!!! What haaapeeennnned???!?!?!?!" 

In fact, one of my biggest beefs about being engaged at all (while it had nothing to do with not wanting to solidify my relationship and commitment to my partner), was the fact that, suddenly, semi-distant friends and even perfect strangers now felt like they had some real estate in the relationship.  Like, if we're engaged, you care?  Because being engaged means something?  I got news, people: being engaged is, to each couple, as unique as the relationship.

That feeling bubbled over like a pot of foaming, boiling potatoes onto our break-up, because I knew that it was no longer just a break-up to people.  And yes, I get it: it's not just a break-up.  It's like LIFE break-up status.  But it meant that, in the nosey-ass world of Facebook and Blogger (despite my love for these two entities), a "normal" break-up could not proceed like in the old days.

I remember a time when, unless you lived in the same neighborhood (or were a stalker), you were NEVER going to run into your ex again.  His friends were his friends, yours were yours.  You could feel how you wanted to feel, say what you wanted to say, do what you wanted to do and the only way paths ever crossed was by total fluke.  It may seem cold, but I think it facilitated healing.  These days we feel the sick need to broadcast every moment of our lives, and much to our detriment.

I mean, look at me!  A poor girl can't blog about her epiphanies, joy, recovery of self because six months ago she was ordering Save the Dates?!  That's fucked.

I'm not saying I have wanted to avoid life or my former future husband by any means, but the claustrophobia of so many people having stalk in our relationship created the feeling, for me, that I was constantly about to touch the metal sides of that little "Operation" dude if I said or did the wrong thing, especially because I was the one who decided to leave the relationship.  Everybody wants to know what's going on my personal life, and I have felt like, if I act like I am anything but grieving and/or still healing, I am a heartless saboteur.  So I have done my duty, spoken in a low voice, stepped lightly.  And I know you're not supposed to admit things like this publicly, but: I'm afraid of being judged.

But mostly?  I'm afraid of hurting more people.  I'm afraid that being happy, content and so clear about my direction is the opposite of what people expect of me.

But you know what?  I'm happy.  I'm happy about my life, happy about my decision, and I'm so happy that I finally turned my face toward the sky and realized that the wind was a-comin', so to speak. 

Look, he's not a bad guy.  He is a perfectly perfect guy.  If you had him take a picture of himself and then fill out a resume about his awesome relationship partner qualities on the back -- and if Life were an open audition for relationships -- he'd be called back every time.  He is awesome.  He is kind, attentive, unbelievably generous and honest, and he is a total babe.  I felt honored to have his love, honored that he wanted to call me his wife, honored to be welcomed in by his family and friends, and so, so privileged to be building a life with someone so responsible, reliable and devoted to me.  We had jokes, routines, laundry to do and dishes to wash.  We shared time in nature and on wonderful adventures.  We had plans and a life.  We had a life.

Yes, this is a personal blog, but I'm not going to do the thing where I get personal without considering another person's feelings.  I'm not going to hash out the reasons I needed to back out of my engagement for the entire blog-o-sphere to read and form an opinion on.  A friend told me recently, over Thai food (Buddha bless her), that when going through her divorce, she found that the only way to really shut people up about the whole thing was to say simply, "It just wasn't right."

 

My reasons are my reasons, and despite going blue in the face trying to describe them to the people who are so genuinely interested in my well-being and that of my former fiance, I've realized that the only way to fully grasp the war that raged within me over my decision is to hand them my skin and be like, "CLIMB IN."

 

There is no way to describe the nuances of communication that happen between two people, or what just fits or does not.  I think we so often find ourselves living perfectly happy lives with people we definitely love, and that is awesome.  Really and truly.  I know I'm all dark and twisty and weird about happiness, but I want it just as much as the next Jane Doe.  In fact, I think I had forgotten how truly capable I am of happiness; how much joy, bliss, fulfillment I am capable of experiencing in this life.  At some point, I took a step back, looked around, and realized that I was not who I was capable of being, and I was dragging the rest of my life down with me.  *Shakes finger at self*

That is a no-no in life, people.  It is completely un-hot to look at yourself and realize that you are only living at 60% capacity, through absolutely no fault of your own or anybody else's.  But at some point it's time to suck it up, face your fears, release control, and trust.

See how I just seamlessly segued into my original point?  I AM A GENIUS.

If you got it in you, go ahead and read that post on my New Year's Intentions, because I will tell you this: without realizing it, I have faced some of the biggest fears of my life.  I have released my grip on the control I thought I had over things, and, incidentally, I no longer watch ANY television, because I am back to my old I-don't-own-a-TV ways.  I live in the forest with my awesome, underwear-destroying puppy, Bodhi, who is quickly growing into a massive DOG, which is totally awesome and terrifying, because sometimes I think when he goes to give me a little puppy kiss, his entire tongue is going to swallow me and I will find myself in a microscopic space ship inside his tummy.

Anybody get that reference?  No?  Fine.  Here's a picture of Bodhi to make you feel better for being lame enough to have never seen that movie:

That's a bone in Bodhi's mouth.  Next month it will be your child.  Just sayin'.

Today while I was driving all over the place for my awesome job-I-sometimes-hate, I was reminded of a feeling I have had repeatedly throughout my last few months of recuperation and fortitude.  I felt, driving with the windows down, the radio on and a smile on my face, such a feeling of peaceful belonging.  And I thought, This is all I'll ever need.

 

I feel that way in the mornings, too, when I step out into the crisp mountain air with coffee and my pup, hair a tangled mess, usually in some gnarly torn sweats I normally wouldn't admit to owning.  The sound of Bodhi's paws on the Earth, the sound of a bluejay singing just so, or even the glint of a spider web in the rising sun, and I think, This is it.  This is all I need.

The feeling, I've realized, doesn't arise from any one thing or experience.  I think it arises from simply being available to the experience of living at your full capacity.  

 

I've realized over the last few weeks that, several months ago when I was struggling so terribly with my relationship coming to an end, I identified the feeling I wanted, and that became my goal.  Not for the break-up, not for the resolution or the healing, but in life.  I knew that the only way I could survive my fears and all my guilt over dismantling the plans I had participated in creating, was to keep my heart aligned with the feeling I knew I was capable of experiencing, and then live it as if it were already my reality.

It seemed as soon as I was able to conceive of that reality being a possibility, all things fell into place for me.  If you build it, they will come, right?  And that reality being at least a possibility?  That is all I'll ever need.