OK!
I am finally, finally sitting down in one place for more than ten minutes with nothing consuming my full attention. Miracle.
So, now... what has been going on?
First off, let me just iterate: manifestation is a thing. There are a lot of pseudo-spiritual people out there with all kinds of advice on how to do it, peddling their techniques and tools to make a fast buck from people who are genuinely in need, desperate to change their lives.
You do not need to buy any of that stuff. A real spiritual teacher will tell you that you have every tool and resource within you already; the trick is learning what yours are, and how to use them. A real spiritual teacher will give you guidance, but leave the hard work of it up to you. And it is hard work, but work worth doing. Our individual power is accessible and comes without monetary cost.
My non-existent readers who have been following for a while have probably gotten the sense that I'd more or less given up on the idea of finding a partner, and they would be 100% correct. I've found dating to be a lackluster drudge, a parade of yutzes, a string of disappointments threaded together with loneliness. So, I made the decision to just... not. I stopped any and all dating and instead turned towards my own healing like a second, full-time job. Attention from men was welcomed, but never amounted to anything but something that kind of bemused me. (Plus, I'll admit: my hormones are crazy right now.)
And it paid off! I feel stronger and more confident and more sure of myself than I've ever felt in my whole life. I'm standing steadily, chin lifted, eyes up, facing the world with my hard-gotten knowledge. I think the pain of the past ten or so years was necessary in getting me to this point. I have learned so much about myself, and how I tick. That's a powerful thing.
At the new moon, I did a ritual. I like moon rituals a whole lot. Saged my room, lit incense, prayed. And during this one, I acknowledged my healing. I acknowledged what brought me to this point, and I thanked myself for my resilience. I forgave myself for the times when I didn't handle things as well as I could have and beat myself up about it. I declared myself healed and whole, and meant it with my entire heart and soul.
And then... I wrote a letter.
I wrote a letter to my future lover. Because yes, I am lonely. But I'm not going to chase after that anymore, because that's a sucky place from which to begin any relationship. Chasing is bad. I told the Universe: I am healed. I am whole. I am, at long last, ready. Send him on Your own time, but I'm not going to chase. I'm simply going to be. It was my "Thy Will be done" moment.
My objective in writing the letter was to describe what I wanted--what I really, really wanted and needed from my ideal partner, in excruciating detail, right down to the color of his eyes--and just send it out to the Universe so that I could just concentrate on my life and let the Universe Do Its Thing. I wrote the letter as if I was writing to my future lover. I thanked him for showing up just in time... whenever that is. I praised his authenticity and his sensitivity; I admired his wit and his soft voice. I described how I could lose myself in idly debating whether his eyes were blue or green, and how it didn't really matter because either way, he smiled with his eyes. I wrote about how excited I was about all the things we'd learn about each other, and teach each other. I talked about trips across the country in an RV. I spoke of our lovemaking... and I got really granular with it. All told, it probably took me an hour. It was a long letter!
I folded it up neatly, placed it in an abalone shell, took it outside, touched it with a lit match, and watched it burn. Thick, gray smoke, raising up to the heavens.
There. It's done. And I'm not going to spend any more energy on it.
I shit you not, I met him the very next day.
It was the new guy brought on to help with crew.
The Canadian. To preserve anonymity, I'm just going to call him V.
I didn't know it was him, yet. But the following week, he was chatting me up at the bar, after the show...
And the week after that, at the cast party, we laid on a blanket in the fragrant autumn air and admired the full moon, exchanging soft words, gently holding hands.
And then he kissed me.
And now... it's on.
When I tell you that he fits the description in my letter to an absolute T, I'm not joking. It's almost eerie. His eyes are... blue? Green? And he is so, so compassionate and gentle. He's wildly creative and intelligent. Big, big nerd. His soul is sweet (but he does have a bit of a filthy side, which I love.) He adores his kids to the moon and back, and that charms me to no end. I've made it a point to be my absolute authentic weirdo self because I found myself almost wanting to scare him off with my true personality--and instead, it has endeared me to him, and he wants to know more. Talking with him is free, and easy, and effortless. This weekend, he even told me he dreams of getting an RV. My eyes are welling up just thinking about it.
It is literally as though the Universe checked off every item on my list and presented me with this treasure of a human.
So, you can see now why I needed to take a little time to gather my thoughts! This lightning-strike of a blessing has knocked me completely off my feet.
It's still early days, and the potential for a relationship is not without its complications. So I'm trying very, very hard to keep my feet on the ground, but it is so hard. Any amount of chill I had gets thrown out the window when I hear his voice, or when he holds my hand, or softly kisses my forehead.
I am trying, but I am losing--and the surrender is sweet.
Apologies in advance for being annoying.
*~*~*~*
Besides that, things have been busy in other areas of my life. Work has been kind of nuts, most recently because I was helping with a super interesting and very, very worthwhile pro bono case: a U.S. asylum application for a foreign political activist advocating for abused/trafficked women. Talk about rewarding work! And I had no idea it was so difficult to apply for asylum. It gives me a new appreciation for it. Absolutely exhausting process, and we had well over a thousand pages of backup documentation that had to be organized just so. Crazy.
I'm also back at band rehearsals regularly, getting ready for the upcoming holiday concert season. And that reminds me, I need to get hymns from Damien, because I'm gigged out for Christmas Eve at the church. (Money, honey!)
Oh oh oh and I have to get the house company-ready for Thanksgiving. K & P booked their air travel and are definitely coming, and I'm really, really hoping my brother and niece definitely decide to come. Hoping, too, to have an open house the evening of Thanksgiving. I would love to make that happen.
*~*~*~*
As this year winds to a close, I am super optimistic about 2024. The struggle was worth it.
So, now... what has been going on?
First off, let me just iterate: manifestation is a thing. There are a lot of pseudo-spiritual people out there with all kinds of advice on how to do it, peddling their techniques and tools to make a fast buck from people who are genuinely in need, desperate to change their lives.
You do not need to buy any of that stuff. A real spiritual teacher will tell you that you have every tool and resource within you already; the trick is learning what yours are, and how to use them. A real spiritual teacher will give you guidance, but leave the hard work of it up to you. And it is hard work, but work worth doing. Our individual power is accessible and comes without monetary cost.
My non-existent readers who have been following for a while have probably gotten the sense that I'd more or less given up on the idea of finding a partner, and they would be 100% correct. I've found dating to be a lackluster drudge, a parade of yutzes, a string of disappointments threaded together with loneliness. So, I made the decision to just... not. I stopped any and all dating and instead turned towards my own healing like a second, full-time job. Attention from men was welcomed, but never amounted to anything but something that kind of bemused me. (Plus, I'll admit: my hormones are crazy right now.)
And it paid off! I feel stronger and more confident and more sure of myself than I've ever felt in my whole life. I'm standing steadily, chin lifted, eyes up, facing the world with my hard-gotten knowledge. I think the pain of the past ten or so years was necessary in getting me to this point. I have learned so much about myself, and how I tick. That's a powerful thing.
At the new moon, I did a ritual. I like moon rituals a whole lot. Saged my room, lit incense, prayed. And during this one, I acknowledged my healing. I acknowledged what brought me to this point, and I thanked myself for my resilience. I forgave myself for the times when I didn't handle things as well as I could have and beat myself up about it. I declared myself healed and whole, and meant it with my entire heart and soul.
And then... I wrote a letter.
I wrote a letter to my future lover. Because yes, I am lonely. But I'm not going to chase after that anymore, because that's a sucky place from which to begin any relationship. Chasing is bad. I told the Universe: I am healed. I am whole. I am, at long last, ready. Send him on Your own time, but I'm not going to chase. I'm simply going to be. It was my "Thy Will be done" moment.
My objective in writing the letter was to describe what I wanted--what I really, really wanted and needed from my ideal partner, in excruciating detail, right down to the color of his eyes--and just send it out to the Universe so that I could just concentrate on my life and let the Universe Do Its Thing. I wrote the letter as if I was writing to my future lover. I thanked him for showing up just in time... whenever that is. I praised his authenticity and his sensitivity; I admired his wit and his soft voice. I described how I could lose myself in idly debating whether his eyes were blue or green, and how it didn't really matter because either way, he smiled with his eyes. I wrote about how excited I was about all the things we'd learn about each other, and teach each other. I talked about trips across the country in an RV. I spoke of our lovemaking... and I got really granular with it. All told, it probably took me an hour. It was a long letter!
I folded it up neatly, placed it in an abalone shell, took it outside, touched it with a lit match, and watched it burn. Thick, gray smoke, raising up to the heavens.
There. It's done. And I'm not going to spend any more energy on it.
I shit you not, I met him the very next day.
It was the new guy brought on to help with crew.
The Canadian. To preserve anonymity, I'm just going to call him V.
I didn't know it was him, yet. But the following week, he was chatting me up at the bar, after the show...
And the week after that, at the cast party, we laid on a blanket in the fragrant autumn air and admired the full moon, exchanging soft words, gently holding hands.
And then he kissed me.
And now... it's on.
When I tell you that he fits the description in my letter to an absolute T, I'm not joking. It's almost eerie. His eyes are... blue? Green? And he is so, so compassionate and gentle. He's wildly creative and intelligent. Big, big nerd. His soul is sweet (but he does have a bit of a filthy side, which I love.) He adores his kids to the moon and back, and that charms me to no end. I've made it a point to be my absolute authentic weirdo self because I found myself almost wanting to scare him off with my true personality--and instead, it has endeared me to him, and he wants to know more. Talking with him is free, and easy, and effortless. This weekend, he even told me he dreams of getting an RV. My eyes are welling up just thinking about it.
It is literally as though the Universe checked off every item on my list and presented me with this treasure of a human.
So, you can see now why I needed to take a little time to gather my thoughts! This lightning-strike of a blessing has knocked me completely off my feet.
It's still early days, and the potential for a relationship is not without its complications. So I'm trying very, very hard to keep my feet on the ground, but it is so hard. Any amount of chill I had gets thrown out the window when I hear his voice, or when he holds my hand, or softly kisses my forehead.
I am trying, but I am losing--and the surrender is sweet.
Apologies in advance for being annoying.
*~*~*~*
Besides that, things have been busy in other areas of my life. Work has been kind of nuts, most recently because I was helping with a super interesting and very, very worthwhile pro bono case: a U.S. asylum application for a foreign political activist advocating for abused/trafficked women. Talk about rewarding work! And I had no idea it was so difficult to apply for asylum. It gives me a new appreciation for it. Absolutely exhausting process, and we had well over a thousand pages of backup documentation that had to be organized just so. Crazy.
I'm also back at band rehearsals regularly, getting ready for the upcoming holiday concert season. And that reminds me, I need to get hymns from Damien, because I'm gigged out for Christmas Eve at the church. (Money, honey!)
Oh oh oh and I have to get the house company-ready for Thanksgiving. K & P booked their air travel and are definitely coming, and I'm really, really hoping my brother and niece definitely decide to come. Hoping, too, to have an open house the evening of Thanksgiving. I would love to make that happen.
*~*~*~*
As this year winds to a close, I am super optimistic about 2024. The struggle was worth it.