May 2005 Archives

Big Dream

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I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how this mission of mine can be successful in light of the knowing that I really, really don’t want to do many of the things that traditional “wisdom” would say are necessary. What I keep getting is the message that the only way for me to do what needs to be done is to live the book. What does that mean? It means, among other things, that instead of doing things the “old” way, I need to do what is in line with the message in the book and aligned with the Eden paradigm; i.e.: I need to trust that Spirit’s way is easy—that if something is difficult and I really, really don’t want to do it, it is probably not aligned with the path I need to be following.

If you think that doesn’t bring my left-brain, Earth-indoctrinated, ego stuff up, you would be w-r-o-n-g!

I subscribe to Suzanne Falter Barns’ mailing list, and in her last email/ezine “The Joy Letter,”* she brought something up that really struck me. Basically, she asked “How open is your heart?” and went on to describe how, in pursuing her Big Dream, she has seen the power of opening her heart and that it didn’t fully happen until she authentically got in touch with her Big Dream and surrendered to it. (I will either link to the essay or paste it in for you when I get permission from Suzanne.)

Now, I feel like my heart’s pretty open—but is it? Am I fully surrendered to my dream? To Spirit? No, of course not. And I thought I knew what my dream was. But what exactly IS my dream? I now know that I don’t really know! I do know that I want Recreating Eden to be out there in a big way. I fervently believe that it needs to be read by many, many more people than have currently read it. The thing is, I don’t really want to do what it takes to get it out there—at least, not what the old paradigm says is the way!

I learned over the last 6 weeks or so that I really don’t want to travel here, there, and yon to have the chance to reach people with the message. I want to be at home in my garden! I LOVE to give talks—but I don’t love to deal with logistics. I crave being able to be creative with color and form—not just with words. I love designing flyers and covers of books—but I don’t want to do that full time. I want to paint and play with clay and do all the art stuff that my inner child loves. I believe there are clues in all that—clues to making my Big Dream come true—now, to find out what my Big Dream is! I think I may have an idea of what it is—but I don’t think I can share it with anyone right now, tender as it is.

In preparation for birthing a higher version of my Big Dream (and figuring out more completely what it is!), not to mention, just catching up with stuff that's been neglected, I have spent much of the weekend cleaning and rearranging things in the house (with the help of Rick). Tomorrow is carpet cleaning day—as in, I am cleaning the carpet. We have a carpet machine, which has been upstairs waiting for that day to come for many months now. Our light beige carpet is absolutely filthy, and with Lilah’s dribbles that haven’t been detected till dry, (she leaks when she gets excited), it really looks awful! So it will be with great pleasure that I look forward to shampooing the floor tomorrow.

Tomorrow is also Rick’s and my 6th wedding anniversary. We’re planning to go back to Golden for dinner, with Rick promising that there will be no surprises involved! Happy Anniversary, dear husband!

*Suzanne is another joy-focused person! Her most recent book, I just discovered, has a daisy in the center of the “O” in JOY like my “O” has a rose in the center! Hmmm…are we related??? And her first book is titled How Much Joy Can You Stand? Sounds suspiciously like “Increasing Your Tolerance for Joy, but I swear I did not take my title from her—not intentionally, anyway!

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The sweater

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I realize that I actually do not owe anyone an apology for not blogging more, but I’m going to apologize anyway. It was never my intention to blog daily, but I do like to blog frequently enough that the regular readers don’t give up on me! So if you’ve checked in and found nothing new far too often lately, I really am sorry about that. It means so much to me to have a receptacle for what I write (I hope you don’t mean being called a receptacle! I mean that in the most reverent way!) and I do hope you’ll bear with me while I do what is needed to keep the vehicle that is me between the lines.

It’s probably no great surprise that my life is not a picnic right now. Several of you, in fact, have told me that it is surprising that I have kept on in light of my mother’s passing, when any sane person would have known to go into wound-licking mode. That is not what I was guided to do, however, and I guess running my life into a ditch is my clumsy way of figuring out that it needs a complete overhauling. Things that have been neglected for far too long are no longer looming in the background, but are right up in my face. The house is filthy, my body and emotions are in serious need of TLC, and my relationship with Rick is crying out for attention.

I’m finally making a little headway (is that a pun?) with the grieving. Let me tell you about the sweater. When I was at my dad’s in April, two weeks after my mom died, (I was back home in North Carolina for my niece’s wedding), piles of my mom’s clothing, etc., were in the guest bedroom where my sister had been sorting it all for charity and such. The day I left, I picked up one of her sweaters—a very soft cashmere-like coral one—that had been in her wardrobe for as long as I could remember, and when I held it close and breathed in, it smelled just like her. Well, it pulled the plug on my feelings and got the tears flowing like nothing else had. After a moment, I put it back on the pile and got my suitcases loaded and headed out. (Dad was at a physical therapy appointment and we had already said our goodbyes.) On my way to the airport, I called my sister, who’d been sorting the clothes, and told her about the experience of the sweater. She said, “Did you take it with you?” and when I said I had left it there, she insisted that I should have taken it. “Why didn’t you?” she probed. “I don’t know—I just couldn’t,” I responded. As we said goodbye and I drove on, I realized that she was right. I really, really wanted that sweater. So when I got home, I emailed her and asked her to put it in a plastic bag (to preserve the Mom smell) and send it to me. It arrived the day before I was leaving for Louisiana and I just couldn’t open it then as I didn’t feel I had time to have the major meltdown that was one sweater-sniff away. So I left it sealed in the box. Once I got back from the trip, there was still too much going on for the first couple of days to do it justice. And by then, I was almost dreading opening that package. But Monday morning, I knew it was time. I got it out and snuggled up with it (someone suggested that I put it on, but Mom quite a bit smaller than I am, and it would just about fit my head!) and listened to Ashes, and cried and cried and howled a bit and cried some more. What a perfect trigger for me. It’s going to make the feelings so much easier to access. Linda was so right. I needed that sweater.

I got my thank-you notes for the condolence cards, etc., written at last today, which was a relief as it’s taken me almost five weeks to get to them. I still have some thank-yous to write to the wonderful folks in Lousiana, but writing them will be a pleasure, as was writing the thank-yous for all the sweet notes about Mom. It’s funny how you can set yourself up to think of something as a chore, and when you finally get around to doing it, you wonder why you did that to yourself as you realize what you dreaded was a joy to do!

So I’ll be tending my life and clearing out the stuff that’s keeping me at lower frequency. I will report on it as often as possible and as honestly as possible. It seems that to keep the energy clear, I can’t just pretend to you that everything is hunky dory and that I’m closer to Eden than I am. Perhaps there is some healing for us all in my sharing the process—if not, I know there is for me at least.

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What a great weekend! I spent most of it in the garden, catching up on all the planting that didn’t get done due to my being gone much of the last 5-6 weeks. There is nothing like planting to raise my frequency to joy! There are still a few things I need to procure, but for the most part, the main elements of my 2005 garden are in place, and that is very satisfying.

Let’s see…I was going to tell you about the booksigning and talk at Rigsby Frederick’s in Baton Rouge…How to describe Rigsby’s home? It’s in a gorgeous upscale Baton Rouge neighborhood, in a deceptively normal-looking transitional-contemporary house from the outside front, but you discover its uniqueness very quickly once you enter its door. It is filled with remarkable art treasures—sculpture, photography, paintings, furniture—and the really amazing part is that a large proportion of these treasures were created by Rigsby, himself! And when I say “filled,” I mean filled. There is no room that isn’t blessed with art and artifacts that you would be excited to find in a contemporary art gallery. At the back of the house, main floor, is a balcony overlooking the huge backyard which looks for all the world like the grounds of an art gallery or museum. It features a large manmade lake and very large sculptures. Really impressive. What I was the most excited about, though, was his studio, in a separate building, with a deck that overlooks the lake. It looked like it had just been scrubbed, and it is huge—at least two stories high open space with a huge stone fireplace and a conversation area as well as worktables and counters and tools. It would be easy to be inspired in there! At the time my talk was scheduled to start, most of the guests were out walking around the lake or hanging out on the studio deck. I was truly astonished that they all—or nearly all—came in and assembled to hear my talk. It went really well and I found lots of “yes-nodders” in the group—if you’ve even given a talk, you know you always seek out those folks who are so into what you’re saying, they nod “yes” to much of what you say! After the talk, we sold a bunch of books, though not as many as I would have liked! Probably half the people bought books. But I wasn’t disappointed—to be honest, the way it had been billed, as a “party” and booksigning, I was a little surprised as many people seemed to be attuned as were! It was a great group. Thanks again and again to Rigsby, who opened his home for me without even knowing me (on the basis of Ellen's and Anne's endorsement, of course)! And thanks to Ellen for providing the food and wine! Thanks, too, to Kenwood for helping Rigsby get the grounds spiffed up. It was a really great evening which everyone enjoyed!

The other teaser from the last entry was that Andrena (a participant in the weekend) presented each of the workshop folks (all women, as it turned out) with a piece of her handmade gemstone jewelry on Sunday at lunch. She said that being in the first session Saturday had opened her up so much, she felt drawn to making us each a special piece in appreciation! And the coolest part was that she channeled the jewelry design based on what she intuited about each of us. Andrena is very psychic, but just hasn’t felt very confident about utilizing her skills in a focused, specific way. Each piece turned out to be just perfectly matched to the person’s energy and needs. We got out Melody’s guide to gemstones and minerals and looked up each person’s stones and their significance. She was right on EVERY time! I hope she will start to share her talents with others! My piece was a gorgeous necklace with aquamarine and amethyst, and some river pearls and other stones. GORGEOUS! Thanks again, Andrena for my great piece!

Well, my eyes are closing, so I guess I’d better sign off for now and look toward coming back with more real SOON!

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Back in Denver

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This is just going to hit the highlights for now—I’m pretty exhausted and overwhelmed at the moment with all that I need to do. I returned from Louisiana last night and decided that, instead of resting today, I’d better make the rounds of the garden centers and start catching up in my garden before all the “good stuff” was gone. It is, after all, a little later than I’d usually have gotten all my annuals, etc. as I didn’t want Rick to have to tend them in iffy weather while I was gone (Spring is ALWAYS iffy in Denver, with it not being unusual to have frost, and even snow, following a string of 80-degree days). So I’m not as rested tonight as I had thought I’d be—I’m hoping to catch up in the days to come. It is clear to me that I need some intensive rest and rehab of my emotions as well as my body so I'll spend most of the summer doing that.

In a nutshell, the time in St. Francisville was utterly transformational for me, as it seems to have been for a few others who participated in our special weekend. Turned out to be a smaller group than we even thought as of last week at this time, but it was truly one of those times when you could easily see in retrospect just why. (It was a quality group, even if it lacked in quantity!) And I see now that I was simply not up for more. I learned many valuable lessons—one of which being that it’s not that easy to lead a weekend focused on “joy” so very soon after your mother passes away! (Of course, I had planned it well before that happened.) With being so busy and not having time to process things much before the LA trip, it all kind of hit me as I struggled to pull off my vision. Fortunately, it all went okay despite my issues, and even though it didn’t look like I had hoped it would, I was assured by the wonderful women who participated that I was the only one not completely pleased with the way things were!

Ellen was a magnificent hostess. I can’t say enough wonderful things about all that she did to make it a really special weekend for all of us, and a special week for me. Her home is fabulous and such a lovely place to have such a gathering. (I was wrong in the last blog entry when I said it was painted in her paints—she says she hasn’t gotten around to that yet!) She provided wonderful lunches both days, too. Shadetree, the B&B where I stayed was just magical and Kenwood, Ellen’s ex, who is the innkeeper, and I really hit it off. He is a great guy who has put so much heart into Shadetree—so many special touches—I know he makes everybody feel like they’re his favorite guest ever! It was so healing to stay there in the “Gardener’s Cottage,” which was so private and lovely. Being in the midst of such lush, natural beauty was restorative for my soul. Not that Denver doesn’t have it’s own beauty, but I long for that over-abundance of green and the voluptuousness that Nature seems to exhibit only when you go far enough south.

I am glad to be home with Rick and the pups—but as I said to somebody—I forget who—I do kind of wish St. Francisville were home! It certainly wormed its way into my heart.

More to come—I still need to tell you about the booksigning at Rigsby’s and the wonderful surprise that Andrena provided for all of us in the workshop...

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Boy, oh boy! I am being given the royal treatment here in St. Francisville! I’m staying in the Gardener’s Cottage at Shadetree (the B&B Ellen started with her ex, Kenwood, and that he owns and still runs), and it is a magical little spot. I am immersed in the woods and being nourished at the soul level by nature in ways that I had forgotten were possible. Kenwood is a fabulous host—the perfect blend of helpful but not overly solicitous. It’s obvious he’s been at this for a long time! He’s so cool. (AND he’s read Recreating Eden multiple times and loves it!)

Then there’s Ellen—oh, boy! She and I hit it off in person just as well as on the phone and email. She is a ball of fire! I am amazed at all that she is doing to make this weekend special. Tonight is the booksigning/talk in Baton Rouge, and she has turned it into quite the affair with wine and food and such. I went to her house for dinner last night and saw the big coolers of food for tonight and for our workshop lunches. We had boiled shrimp (which I love, love, love!) and grilled tuna (which I also love) with salad, roasted asparagus and asiago cheese bread with Godiva chocolates for dessert, and it was all fabulous—she’s a great cook, among her many talents. Her home is just lovely—in the woods and kind of “modern rustic chic.” And of course, it’s painted with her paints. Fabulous! Since we only have a dozen or so participants, we’re having the workshop at her house, which will be great. It’s a very joyful environment.

Ellen's staff is awesome, too. Already quite joyful folks! We ought to be able to raise the joy quotient quite easily with this group! Haven't met the other participants yet, but I can only imagine that they will also be great folks.

There’s so much more to tell. I will have to write again as I need to go get myself ready for tonight.

Oh, JOY!

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Happy Land, here I come!

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Well—after all the weeks of anticipation, it’s finally time for me to head to Louisiana for the “Joyfest”! I’m busily packing and organizing and generally getting my act together. My flight leaves at 11:25 in the morning and I’m flying into New Orleans and renting a car to drive to St. Francisville. (That was almost exactly the same price as flying to Baton Rouge, which is closer, but which would necessitate a plane change. No Denver to Baton Rouge non-stops!) After my recent trips to NC with always having to go from Denver through some out-of-the-way airport, it will be great not to have to change planes. One take-off and one landing. Nice.

I’m so excited to finally meet Ellen (& company) in person and to see this magical place where she lives. And what an appropriate locale for a weekend devoted to joy—St. Francisville just happens to be in West Feliciana Parrish! Why is that appropriate? “Feliciana” is Spanish for “happy land”! Perfect! Another reason it’s perfect from where I sit right now is that it won’t be snowing. It was 81 degrees and sunny yesterday and today here, but a cold front has moved in and there’s a high of 44 predicted for tomorrow, with a possibility of a rain-snow mix. Ouch! But I’ll be ensconced in balmy Happy Land…

As I’ve been preparing today, I’ve been caught up in a classic ego versus Spirit kind of a struggle—of course, Spirit hasn’t been struggling, but Ego sure has! Ego wants to plan everything down to the minute, and is frustrated that it’s not being done that way, while Spirit is patiently standing by, speaking the truth, which is that it’s impossible to plan that thoroughly at the human level for something which is being orchestrated at the higher frequencies. A lot of planning is a waste of time and not only that, can be an impediment to our being available to go with the flow. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s a higher wisdom guiding this, and that, while some planning to have a framework to mollify the ego is fine, a lot of planning is simply a block to doing what is intended at the higher levels. Not to mention, this is a co-creation, and much of it will happen chemically and organically. That said, my ego does insist on an outline! And it will have one.

I made a handout today of a “decree” I wrote while I was pretty high in the joy space a couple of months ago. As I looked over the print out of it, it hit me—the outline to the weekend is in the decree! It was parallel to the rough outline I had put together before I had even gone back over my joy notes and found the decree! That was pretty cool.

I’ll have my computer at Shadetree (where I’m staying) and there’s wireless DSL there because Ellen's offices are there, so I will try to blog at least a line or two while I’m gone. I doubt I’ll have a lot of time when I’ll want to be at the computer, but it’s nice to know I can be!

Meantime, please check out this wonderful, inspiring slideshow (its message is very Recreating Eden!):

And while you’re there, you might enjoy getting to know more about its creator, Mary Robinson Reynolds. (There’s a link at the end of the “movie.”)

Well—I’d better finish my preparations. I’ve got a lot of joy to rest up for! (HUGE grin!)

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June is Julia Month

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Do you remember when, a few months ago, I was struggling to remember that all is in Divine Order when I wasn’t selected to be a presenter at a metaphysical conclave after having been asked to apply? And I decided to just trust that, even if I didn’t understand why, that something else was going to come up for me for June? Well, I know what it is. My faith is rewarded with understanding. It’s time to rest, regroup, and renew!

This has been quite a spring, what with my mother’s illness, decline, and death, and the extra travel relative to that, getting shoehorned into what was already a full schedule. I am soooooo looking forward to the Joy weekend in Louisiana, but almost as much, I’m looking eagerly forward to when I can just be here at home and tend to the neglected house and a neglected inner child.

As much as I love to travel, it is wearying, and more than that, it keeps me away from home. And I am SUCH a homebody! These frantic last weeks, have found myself longing for time to work in my garden, which has been in need of TLC for weeks now. Our house is such a jumble from comings and goings and no time to organize. I feel like Spring cleaning—and I really do NOT like to clean! That’s how gross it’s gotten—I am longing for time to clean! I also long for stretches of days where I can follow my energy instead of desperately trying to keep my head above water with business stuff.

You know—after I got word that I hadn’t been one of what turned out to be two presenters (they had said they were selecting four) to be selected, I was pretty bummed. I was further disappointed when nothing seemed to be turning up to do teaching-wise for the summer. Let’s just say that I’m no longer disappointed! I’m thrilled to be having the time and space to contemplate (and write?!) the next in the Recreating Eden series; to add new stuff to the website, to weed the garden (see how desperate I’ve become?!), clean the house, and just savor life. I also have some more grieving to do.

Today, I received a package from my sister, which I haven’t yet opened, containing one of my mother’s sweaters. It’s soft and snuggly and smells of her. I cuddled with it when I was at Dad’s week before last, but left it there. When my sister asked me why I hadn’t taken it with me, I didn’t know. But after giving it some thought, I realized that it was the perfect tool for grieving—nothing like someone’s scent to bring them back into your consciousness. I will not likely open the box till I get back from LA so that when I do, I can spend as much time as I need to letting Sweet Julie commune with her mama.

Yes—I get it now. I understand why June never manifested anything for me to do mission-wise—June is “come back to Julia” month! Woooohoooo!


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Thank you, God In Me

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Today when I sat down to do some attuning with God In Me, and felt I wasn’t really up for an emotional release session, (I’ve been doing a lot of that!) I picked up my clipboard that has all my joy notes in it—all the notes I’ve taken while I’ve been working/playing with the practice of proactive, unconditional joy—and as I looked over the pages, I was struck by the higher wisdom contained on them—wisdom from a level at which I haven’t recently operated, because I’ve had so much emotional congestion. I have had a lot of processing to do, and while I’ve done it pretty diligently, I am by no means “caught up.” Since my mother’s passing, with all the busy-ness, I haven’t really had the chance to just let things flow. So though I’ve been grieving on purpose (which has helped a LOT), as Cris Williamson says in her wonderful song “Cry Cry Cry,” “You cannot tell the river how to run.” It doesn’t work to try to force the process to go faster than it naturally will. So I was just feeling like having a closer attunement with my Spirit, and contemplating whether I could possibly climb up to a level of satisfying communion, what with so much emotional release work still to do.

It’s one of those maddening ironies of the duality matrix that when you most need your highest wisdom and to feel your connection, it’s inaccessible to you (unless you can think to surrender and rise in frequency). When you’re experiencing turmoil and in need of help, it means you’re at lower frequency. When you’re at lower frequency, you do not have access to the highest truth or to joy! But I rediscovered something today that I’ve understood for awhile, but haven’t articulated in writing yet—until now. That is, when you are at higher frequency and receiving insights, it’s valuable to write them down for your “future self” so that when you hit a rough patch and drop in frequency, you can reference them when you need them. What prompts me to bring that up now is that as I was reading over my joy notes—all of them written when I was at a high frequency and experiencing the ecstasy of attunement—I found some really helpful insights that I had forgotten about because that level of perception just hasn’t been available to me in my congested state. I’m going to share a few of the notes I wrote when I was in my wisdom that I found especially helpful today. I was so glad that I had written them! (They were written before my mother made her transition—it is almost as if I wrote them to help what was then my “future self.”)

¨ Grief is a logical result of investment in the duality matrix where there is a failure to understand Oneness, and a false belief that because a form changes, something is lost. It is due to the inability to stay fully in the moment, allowing Creation to freely shift and rearrange. Trying to hold on to forms is the root cause of grief.

¨ Grieving and clearing out stagnant energy—energy congestion—is a vital part of rising in frequency to joy. You can’t raise your frequency but so far until you clear your emotional congestion. Your joy quotient is inversely proportional to your emotional congestion.

¨ To seek joy is to seek reunion with your Spirit. To grieve is to seek reunion with your Spirit.

¨ When you cry, you are seeking to get closer to your Spirit—releasing the stagnant emotional energy is removing a barrier between where you are and where you long to be. Every such act of healing is holy. Your tears are sacred.

¨ When you cry, you are crying over the loss of alignment with your Spirit. When you grieve, no matter the ostensible reason, you are grieving over the lack of feeling of God In You.

¨ With every tear, every sob, every gulp for air, know that the barrier between you and your true Love, God In You, dissolves a little more.

Just reading over these truths that I wrote when I was “high” enough to perceive them was like having a hand up. By the time I had read through my joy notes, I had reconnected with what it felt like to be in that state, was higher in frequency, and dipping into joy a bit. I highly recommend jotting down your insights so that you can access them when you need them!

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When I left off last time, I revealed the roots of the confounding pattern I had of being with unavailable men. And I told you how diligently I had worked to transform the pattern, yet I was staring it in the face AGAIN, and this time, right out of the box after eight years of holding relationship at bay! Yes, I was in love with my email buddy, Rick, who was committed to another. The "funny" thing is that I had all the physical and emotional symptoms of being in love, yet this time, I did not have that vaguely guilty feeling that it was wrong that had always been present before. No, the feeling I had was not at all vague--I knew it was wrong to be having an affair with someone who was not available, but I could not seem to stop the feeling of being on a runaway train. It felt more like destiny than anything I'd ever experienced.

"NOT FUNNY!" I said to God In Me. This was not right. I tried to summon up the will to bail out of the friendship, but it was as if I were somehow bound to follow this thing out. Meanwhile, Rick and I continued our constant emailing and calling. I got used to the fact that there were times when I would have to wait for a reply, as he spent two nights a week with her (she lived in Colorado Springs and he, in Denver). Sometimes I'd hear from him while he was with her; sometimes, I did not. I did my best to detach during these times, yet I found myself less and less able to pretend that I was just a friend, and that of course he'd be spending time with his beloved and it was all the same to me. Finally, it hurt so much, I called a moratorium to our correspondence, and told him that I just needed some space. What a relief! It felt MUCH better to simply not expect to hear from him at all instead of hoping he'd manage to slip an email in to me while he was with her. Though I was happy to hear from him once I called off the moratorium--and I heard from him within minutes of doing so--I knew it was only a matter of time till something had to give.

Though I tried to be more aloof, my heart just simply would not let me. At the same time, I was feeling more and more conflicted. Our calls and emails continued to escalate even further, and "I love you" was how each of us always ended our phone calls. The rationale: Friends say "I love you!" All my close girl friends and I say "I love you" when we close a conversation, and Rick and I were certainly close at this point...nothing untoward about that, right? We talked about so much--hours a night on the phone. We emailed continuously--beautiful, poetic emails, and clever, mundane emails--long, long series of emails with many different "threads" going at all times. And always there was a spiritual communion going on. We were so closely matched spiritually, it was uncanny. In fact, I had not even believed a man existed that would be on the same wavelength with me in that way, and it was too, too exquisite to simply reject because he was "already taken." After all, we had decided that our relationship was just getting me ready for my true love, who was surely on the way. (Yeah. Right. Boy, oh, boy--I think we created a new definition for love being blind!)

However, the pain of being the "play girl" and not the one "stirring the pots on the stove" (see previous installment for an explanation), was becoming acute, and what I had tried so hard to deny was finally in my face in a big way, and refused to leave. At last, reality bit hard and I knew without a doubt, we had been in denial and that this relationship had to end. I could not be "the other woman" ever again. I would no longer dishonor the Truth of Who I Am that way. No matter how much it hurt, I needed to cut it off--or transform it. And before that could happen, both of us needed to be clear about what was happening. In fact, there were three of us that needed to be clear. There was another being involved who didn't even know what was going on.

On the night of November 6th, 1997, I told Rick that it was imperative that we be 100% honest with ourselves, with each other, and with his girlfriend. I told him that we needed to back off and be just friends, and if that wasn't possible, we needed to cut off the relationship completely. More importantly, I told God-In-Me that I would give up my relationship with Rick, but I expected something really spectacular as a reward. You see, five years before, I had agreed to euthanize my beloved little boy dog, Buddy, who had been run over and was painfully clinging to life, and God had told me "I will never ask you to give up something precious to you without giving you a special gift in exchange." (Sometime I'll tell you that whole amazing story, but suffice to say I did, indeed, receive an amazing gift after I let Buddy go, interestingly, on November 6th, 1992!)

Giving up my relationship with Rick seemed a huge sacrifice, so I said to God In Me, "I'll do this, but I expect a BIG damn gift!" And I got one, but you'll have to wait for the next installment to see how it was delivered...

soulmate saga, part five

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Where To From Here?

About this Archive

This page is an archive of entries from May 2005 listed from newest to oldest.

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