Today is my birthday. And yes, I have really great plans to go hang out with really wonderful friends.
But there is something missing, even with the fun plans and all the Facebook birthday messages.
A partner.
{sigh}
I had one, recently - and thought I would have him forever - but now I don't have one. And I learned a *lot* from this last relationship. So today, on my birthday (and with an eclipse coming up in a few days which is said to be a great time to "plant the seeds of your biggest dreams"), I am ruminating on what I witnessed about myself-in-relationship. I'm reflecting back on how I saw myself navigating an intimate partnership, especially the challenging, unfulfilling moments and hours. A sort of how-did-I-do scorecard as well as a "what will I do differently next time". And what will I do the same.
Because before this last "him", I never really wanted a partner. I wanted my freedom - freedom to roam the world, freedom to hop on a plane to Paris on a whim, freedom to just be me and not have anybody watching me or noticing those things about me that even I don't like myself. I didn't want accountability, except as a teacher of various fitness classes and as a life coach. But not with a man, not with a partner. I wasn't ready for such an under-the-microscope level of togetherness.
Then. He came along, or rather, came into my life as a romantic and live-together partner (after years of knowing each other in a peripheral and only occasional way). And suddenly, poof!, all my notions about loving my independence and not wanting to share my life with Just One Person disappeared. Without a trace.
Because now, I want a partner. I really, really want a partner.
I never thought I'd say that out loud. I'm famous for my gypsy spirit, my spontaneous adventures, my penchant for taking risks. My therapist and my close friends are equally surprised to hear me say that!So I'll say it again: I want a partner.
{another sigh}. But you don't just go to the store and buy a New, Kind-hearted, Willing Partner in Aisle 5! They don't just grow on trees. So, whilst this surprising revelation brings me clarity and obviously indicates a certain (increased) level of openness and ability to 'share' and compromise, it also carries with it the glaring reality that there currently IS NO PARTNER in the picture. Darn.
Why am I wanting a partner so strongly?
Because I feel ready. Ready to be there for somebody in a dedicated, ongoing way - including when they are down as well as when they are feeling euphoric and larger than life. To tend to them, to be a strong and consistent presence in their life. To witness them, witness their unfolding, every day. To know what scares the sh*t out of them as well as what lights them up. To watch them grow and heal and evolve, their mysteries unfolding before my very eyes. As the trust grows, as the connection deepens and takes root and solidifies, they allow more and more of themself to be seen. By me, and therefore, by God. Because when it's really "love" for me, I see my partner in a pretty darn unconditionally-loving way; I see them as God sees them. It's one of my favorite feelings, my favorite experiences here in a human body - to see my partner as God sees them, perfectly divine at their core, completely beautiful, totally handsome and unique and wonderful, even with their craziness and their weak spots. And yes, I can do that with close girl friends, true; it's just that the intimacy and vulnerability levels are special in a different way, in coupleship.
And, reciprocally, I want the same from my new partner. I want to be seen as God sees me; I want him to look at me that way. Even with my foibles, even with my big ears, even with my weirdness and my moments of acting like a true dork. I want to be able to say something stupid and not get berated for it; I want to be able to sometimes be too tired to make a big dinner (although I do love to cook!) and not be judged for it. I also want to hold him accountable, with my love and by my continued presence - so that he can and will rise to the fullest most glorious version of himself in this lifetime, because he wants to and now he has the right partner with whom to let his guard down and then soar.
I want - no, I demand, actually - that every part of me be included, not just the upbeat fun parts. It's an inclusive love I want, one that wraps itself around every part of me and takes me all in and says, "Here. Come here. Stay here. You're safe here. All of you, every bit of you. I love you."
With my fears (which I'll be happy to look at / examine/ face/ dismiss or choose to keep), with my shortcomings, with my craziness, with my emotions, with my tears, with my hyperactive energy, with my bigness, with my passion for adventure and my somewhat-non-conformist ways, with my love of red wine - all of it. Safe, at home, inside that love.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm just saying I'm READY. Ready to look love (and fear, which generally arrive together) square in the face and say, "Yes, I see you. Both of you. And I still say 'Yes' ". I'm willing. I'm so willing! And I figure I'm about 80% sane (healed/self-forgiven) and that that's enough with which to start; that's holy-enough ground in which to plant the
seeds of a true, deep, closely-bonded heart-opening affection-laden intimate, committed relationship! I can work out the other 20% once inside this new healthy partnership, which (I believe) is the only place that the final "work" on one's self can actually take place. I want to watch myself be somebody's *excellent* partner! I want to serve love.
We walked to the edge of the fire, he and I, together. We opened the cabinet behind the mirror of our mutual reflection of each other, and were shocked at the chaos and fear we found there. But then, we turned away from the fire, instead of walking through it. I want to walk through it. I'm in! And then we (my new partner and I) will come out the other side, more healed for having faced that old pain, and closer together as a couple.
Oh, and God? Even if it's too soon for me to be in relationship again, too soon after such a painful disillusionment, you could still start nudging him in my direction, so that our paths eventually collide.
I'm willing.
I'm ready.
***
Today I heard a song for the first time which sums up pretty well what I've realized that I want (and what I want to give), in love. Hope you like it.
Peace.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyn5jwJTYDo
(clearer lyrics)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKOFWQLyJE4
(live performance version)
