Saturday, July 7, 2012

All the possibilities. All of them.

Is it a good thing that I'm trying to date again? Last week I spent a night in tears, refusing to do yoga, refusing to meditate, refusing to do anything at all to take myself away from the story I keep telling myself.
If we haven't formed the habit of staying in our center, when things get rough we will run in ever-widening circles away from or around our center. We may be more comfortable with our histrionics and with the drama ... than we are with the simple practice of staying centered.

I'm always so private about my dating. Because it doesn't work out. Because I'm ashamed it doesn't work out. Because talking about it might jinx it. Because by the time there is anything to say it's over. Because I shouldn't have to be dating at my age. Because I've still never had a long-term relationship. Because everyone remembers being single, but everyone also remembers being secure in a loving relationship. I don't know how that feels.

J says it is good that I am trying to date again, because failure is not an option.

The problem is that failure is an option.

It has been an option all this time.

In such a state of contraction, it is just as impossible to let go as it is to open up to the potential freshness of the next moment.

It is an option I cannot control.

When I say "I am open to all possibilities" that includes the possibility that has become my current reality: the possibility that I will be alone. All the possibilities means all the possibilities.

I found a way to buy a house.

I found a way to keep earning money.

I have not found a way to do this, in twenty years of trying. I know nothing more than I did then. This is probably not true. I know a lot of things that don't work. I know there is not a formula, and that works with one person doesn't work with another.

I have been told that there must be something very wrong with me, if I have not been in a long-term relationship at this point in my life.

Unfortunately, the thing that feels most concrete is often our deep place of holding and our scars.
More than once.
... the monsters aren't stuck to us, we are stuck to the monsters. We become stuck to them by thinking and believing that they are who we are.

I know that the sort of men I am attracted to are
not finished with something that is finished with them
arrogant
concerned with material things
extroverted
strong-willed
bad at listening

They have some good qualities too, but they are not good for me, because they choose not to be.

Not only is the same thing happening, we choose the same reaction to our problem.

Every time I open this book, she says what I need to hear.

Any attempt to keep the heart open when we most wish to close down is a movement in the right direction.

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