Back to School

The past few days have been one hell of a ride, but I landed on my feet with a smile on my face, even if there’s a residual tickle in my tummy.

I don’t remember a lot of details.  I was pretty focused on one specific idea and I had to work very hard to reel myself back in for a reality check.

I do feel compelled to brag about my progress on Chest Day.  Coach had me pushing 45’s for several sets on more than one machine – I totally rocked it.  Totally.  I think maybe I glared at him when he swapped the 25’s out and went directly to the big boys, but I have to give him credit – he knew exactly what he was doing.

Coach’s coaching didn’t end at the gym – his mentoring skills stretched beyond heavy plates and dumbbells and ventured into real Life stuff.  I guess I’m probably used to dealing with dysfunctional people around me and having their behavior (and mine) seem completely normal.  But Coach has his own calm, healthy style, and when I see him in action, I find myself thinking, “Huh.  That’s different.”  And it shocks me – every time. 

All of my most sensitive issues and demons have been stirred up lately, and I get to look at them from a more loving place than I ever have before, which doesn’t mean I like them or that they’re any easier to deal with. 

But I’m learning.

I’m sure I’ll have more to say tomorrow, but my eyes are heavy and I think the emotional impact of this week requires a serious good night's sleep.  

Besides, Coach says I think too much.

Wanted

This afternoon I did a poor job of staying in Love, and I let Fear grab me. 

Fear brings the most horrible emotions with it – rejection, disappointment, victimization and a demanding attitude.  I don’t want any of those to possess my heart.

Sometimes I get so locked in on something I want – something that just sounds way too good to be true – and if the story doesn’t follow my script (which of course, it never does), I am lost and afraid.  I become distrustful and I think the Universe hasn’t had its fill of playing cruel jokes on me just yet.

Wanting something makes me vulnerable, and I hate that.  What if I never wanted anything, but just floated through life, letting the current carry me here or there?  That sort of passiveness sounds weak and pathetic to me.    

Wanting something, I thought, is about dreaming.  What about “if you can imagine it, you can achieve it?”  Wanting something puts a fire in my belly and gets me excited and moving.  It’s passion.  It’s desire.  It’s… devastating when I don’t get it.

So do I prefer never to want a thing and therefore never risk a loss, or am I willing to risk possible pain in exchange for feeling alive and acknowledging the wishes of my heart?  Of course I know the answer even as I type.  I cannot merely exist now that I know what it is to Live.  I will continue to want.  I will continue to hope and wish.

And for the times when I don’t get what I want, I’ll hold on tight to Love and try not to take the whole thing so goddamn personally.  

Sexual Healing

Looking back over my past big relationships, it’s interesting that sex (lack of) was a major issue in all of them.  Whether it was distance, lack of interest on his part, or other things, I never seemed to match up with my partner in terms of frequency or fulfillment.

During this time of self-imposed celibacy, I’ve thought about it a lot, actually, and I often wonder why the Universe would set me up like that.  But maybe it’s been a lesson in Love, after all.

My first experiences with sexuality were about feeling good and “doing it.”  I felt like such a freak that I waited so long to have sex – it was something that made me finally feel “normal” and of course, I liked it. 

While I loved the men in these relationships, I had never lived in Love until lately.  I’ve written so much about how my heart has finally opened up and what a brand new experience that is for me.  Having sex while I was shut down emotionally was probably just a step above using my vibrator.

What would have happened if I had found a life partner who enjoyed sex as much as I did and we spent the last 20 years numbing out and fucking?  Maybe not having sex as frequently as I would like offered me the chance to wake up and feel my own heartbeat.

I suspect that the next time I do have sex, it will be much more than a feel-good activity.  I anticipate nothing less than a mind-blowing, earth-shaking, magical, beautiful, wonderful expression of this growing Love in my life.     

I forgive myself for all of the times I accepted sex when I wanted Love, and I thank the Universe for protecting me from myself when I didn’t know any better.