Saturday, July 23, 2011

The Love You Carry; Guest Post from Kim Garrett

Kim Garrett

The Love You Carry

No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it."-- Albert Einstein

When you are ‘fifty something’ and dating online ageism is in your face. And with an onslaught of ads proclaiming “ We love older women” it feels both courageous and ironic that I would start this blog. But here’s what I have finally taken to heart : I am the indisputable, fathomable force that propels Cupid’s quiver and directs it to it’s mark. And even more exquisite, the mark is ME. Could I have comprehended this in my twenties ? Ha. Of course not.; but that’s another chapter, closer to the beginning ... My thirties were grounded in marriage and f a m i l y. My forties were G Force; career firm, at home in my community, wiser and, well ... Beautiful. And I was finally, really feeling it.

I was born in the fifties ... Which, from my brand new perspective was the beginning of the divorce epidemic. It seemed that the era that created ‘baby boomers’ twisted and reversed on itself in my formative years and left a vacuum , void of paradigms. Fifty years later I found myself divorced with little more explanation than he had stayed with me for 20 years because he wanted to do the right thing. With three beautiful children who coped poorer with my attempts to reconstruct the blissful caricature of family life than I could have ever imagined, I came to accept that you can not fake ANYTHING in your fifties ... Thank God.

So I’ve been reading online profiles for four years now, wondering what it is that I will find, curious what others will find in mine. I want them to find something. They want me to find something. We want to find each something in each other. We put time into thoughtfully written profiles that aim to present our best, synthesizing and distilling our qualities (and photos that can only convey so much) and the final product is sometimes suspect, often dubious, and mostly ineffectual if you’re looking for the extraordinary.

I’ve discovered that the fifth decade is extraordinary in and of itself; that the divorce that I thought would surely undo me did not. Or more apt: my undoing was my ultimate doing ... Maybe feeling so intolerably alone with no pictures of the future created the space for new consciousness to fill.

Last week I learned that my life is going to be blessed with a grand-daughter. If I were to get biologically technical for a moment I would point out the possibly profound idea that I carried her in my own womb once, in her mother’s eggs ... But the real point I’m making is that it has affirmed something so big that it has compelled me to take on the whole dating dilemma!
Grandma has a dating profile. Grandma has had scores of promising dates with men who were discouragingly looking for the forty something powerhouse that she now refers to as mere gestation ... So what will Grandma impart to her darling poppy seed ? Be your (wonderful) SELF. Stay your (wonderful) SELF. What right do you have to be anything less ? If you discover you are becoming something less turn around and return to yourself immediately. This is Love. It is the Love you carry, the Love that is your very beckon. This is how all other Love finds you.

I once heard a dating professional insist that women be the target, not the archer. Tough advice in the modern world of dating where many, perhaps most insist that men want women to be bolder about what they desire. In this light and that of my Madrone’s status I conclude that the Love we carry is the bull’s eye.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Getting my toes wet

I had a date tonight.

I haven’t had a date in a year because I was in love with a wonderful woman.

A week ago today I broke it off and she’s pretty damn angry with me.

So why you might ask would I break it off with a woman I love? Suffice to say that we were poison for one another, that we brought out the worst in one another, that we were holding each other back and moreso- I never felt that she was vested fully in me. I have tons of evidence, but this is a blog, not a bitch-fest.

So I had a date. I took my date out to New York City and we grabbed a quick bite, went to Washington Square Park and sat in the fountain getting sprayed and all wet together, and ended up at The Village Lantern to see my friend Guy’s Band-Stellar Ego (they are Fabulous!).
There were tons of my friends there, male and female, many of whom had met this woman I had just left and not knowing this new woman at all. But this new one was friendly, outgoing, smart, spiritual and deep (a third level Reiki Healer) and very, very affectionate towards me. My friends liked her very much and she liked them as well.

Soooo, what’s my problem?

No-one asked about this woman that I loved; why she wasn’t there and who this new one is? Everyone just assumed that the smile on my face was real and that I must have moved on, and they were happy for me because I have amazing friends who give a shit.

I am not happy. I am not happy in the knowing that somewhere in New Jersey is a woman who cries for me, cries that she is not in my arms and laughing, cries because she feels deeply (another Reiki Healer and lots more) that we are meant to be together for life.
I am not happy because I miss this woman deeply, miss her smile, miss her arms wrapped around me, miss her laughter and miss her “Ooooooohhhhh Goddd Daviiiiiddddddd” when we, well, you know…

I left the bar with this woman, put her on her train, gave her one quick kiss on the lips, smiled, and left. If I had asked she would have gladly taken me home with her. I’m just not ready for anyone else in that way right now.

So I have a question for you. Have you ever done something difficult, something that you knew was the right thing to do but hurt like Hell to do it?

Well, I’m doing it right now.

Sometimes it fucking sucks to be right……………………….

And I have another date tomorrow night…………………

Film at Eleven, yo.

Oz (Spike)

Sunday, July 10, 2011

A Concrete Wall. A Waterfall. A love story.

Once upon a time there was a lovely concrete wall. It was well designed, but through the years you could see the wear and tear had diminished it’s vibrancy a bit. So the powers that be decided to paint a lovely, realistic waterfall on the concrete wall for all to see.

Many would come to admire this lovely waterfall, and in particular one man. This man would sit and admire the waterfall and would speak to the wall and tell the wall of his admiration. The wall would become very excited when she sensed that the man was coming to visit and tried desperately hard to pretty up the paint and mortar whenever she knew he’d be coming. The man noticed this and was glad, however one day he let slip hurtful words about the wall and that she was not an actual waterfall at all, and he wished that she could somehow be different. The wall was deeply hurt by these words and decided that she would not allow the man to hurt her again so she reinforced her concrete and prepared for the worst.

Over time, the man came to love the waterfall and expressed it to the wall as often as he could. The man began to see the waterfall as an actual waterfall and not a concrete wall and shared this with her, often. But the wall would not listen or believe, for after all it was just a concrete wall.

One day after many months of sharing time together, the man came to visit his waterfall in a driving rain-storm. He explained to the wall that he saw all the beauty in her and that she was in reality an actual waterfall; after all, the proof was there for all to see.

The wall began to believe the man, that she was an actual waterfall and was very happy and at peace. But after the man had left and the sun came out, the rain stopped and the wall became dry again. She began to doubt the words the man had spoken, doubted his adoration, doubted his love, and doubted even that she was a beautiful waterfall.

The man returned the following day, but the wall was silent and non-responsive. She would not speak to the man or be waterfall-ish because she looked at what she perceived to be the facts, and thought that he had lied to her. The man was very hurt, yet still remained and attempted conversation, to no avail.

The man continued to visit for many weeks until one day in another horrific rainstorm he exclaimed “see, I told you that you are a waterfall!” and she began to believe again. The rainstorm lasted for several days and the waterfall was overflowing with joy because she knew that the man really loved her and that they would be together forever. She knew that there were differences and challenges but also knew that they would work on them, together, and be happy in their love.

Alas, in the morning the sun came out and dried away the rain, dried the wall back to just a wall and when the man came to visit, the waterfall would not flow, the wall was silent, and the man was sad yet again. The man thought sadly to himself about this because in his heart he knew she was just a concrete wall, but it had stopped mattering long ago as his love was so deeply felt for his waterfall.

The man made several more attempts to love the concrete wall, despite being coached not to by all who cared for him. He even bought paint to help fix some areas that had faded a bit, but the wall even took that as a slight and went further within, away from the man’s love.

Several more times down through the months there would be rainstorms and the man would rush to his waterfall, only to find that she would pull further away every time he attempted to get close. The man became complacent that it would always be this way and now expected that, despite his best efforts, the wall would simply ignore him, listening to the inner voices that damaged their chances to be together. She would no longer communicate with the man and so, the man walked away.

One day when walking by the wall on his way to work, the man felt a drop of water on his cheek. There was no rain in the sky, so the man decided that the waterfall was now attempting to actually BE a waterfall and not a wall at all! The waterfall resumed communication with the man and for a time things seemed normal, (as normal as things can seem between a concrete wall and a man, that is!) yet every time the man visited the wall, he had to wait. The waterfall had received a new coat of paint and all passing admired the new vista. The man however had loved the old vista and did not understand why the wall needed to change. The man continued to visit, but the waits became longer and longer and on occasion the wall just didn’t have time to see the man at all.

The man began to doubt the love that the waterfall professed to have for him. He discussed this when he occasionally could visit with her and she would continue to tell him that she loved him, but he did not feel it from her anymore. He no longer told the wall that he loved her because he sensed that she was pulling away and that she now desired another wall, or perhaps waterfall, and not a man like him at all.

The delays became overwhelming to the man, yet despite this he decided that it was just part of who the wall was and that he would accept that as part of his growth in their relationship. The wall seemed surprised, even upset that the man no longer minded the delays and did not get upset over them. The man waited and the delays continued on into the day, into the evening, and yet still the man waited, patiently. The wall could not handle this new direction from the man and shut down her communication with him yet again. Despite his best efforts the wall would not talk to the man and so, the man walked away for the final time.

Later that day there was a terrible accident and the wall was damaged. She did not reach out to the man from fear of how he would react, not realizing that he had already decided to move on. The wall made a slight effort to contact the man in a manner that he had asked her not to on multiple occasions. Despite this, the man attempted to contact the wall several times, to no avail. He was worried but she simply would not talk to him and it was not even clear in her message what really happened.

The man left her a final message that despite his love, and hers, that they were just too different to have any sort of relationship. Their relationship was one not based in reality, toxic and not healthy, guilt ridden and not based on mutual respect and trust. And although the man still loved his waterfall, he knew that she no longer had any ear to listen to his love and allow him to share and receive his gifts.

The man shed one final tear and hoped that his beautiful, shining waterfall would heal, be grateful for all she has, know that the man did love her with all his heart, and only remember the good that they shared. The man hoped that she would remember that she is indeed a beautiful, life-giving and flowing waterfall and not a concrete wall at all.

The man will always love and miss his waterfall.