 Shortly after George died, I came to the following conclusions:
My life no longer belongs to me. It is all about Nova now. I surrender. At the time, and thereon after, I found solace in this. I let go of any illusion of control and surrendered to a higher power. I accepted that which I could not change. I called resistance futile and carried forth, day by day, waiting for the universe to show me the way. It felt noble. It felt humble. It felt wise. And, perhaps, in those first days turning into years, I needed to surrender my life. The dream I’d been creating around my true love and inspired career choices and precious family unit had vanished. George had been taken away, and with him my innocence, my ability to dream, my felt freedom. My survival depended on a change of thinking. Continuing to believe I was entitled to my dreams would have felt defeating at best and crushing at worst. I didn’t know how to create a future for myself out of the ruins, and I didn’t feel I deserved to. I’d had it all, and I’d lost it. Surely there was a hidden message in all of this. You lost it because you didn’t deserve it.  I have arrived. This is the moment when things begin to come into focus. The boxes are unpacked, the curtains are hung, (most of) the heavy lifting is done. My child, by some miracle, is asleep in her room at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and I am here on this couch (this couch that is no longer my bed!) and for the first time in months I feel calm, and rested, and ready to explore.
 Roxborough, CO It's happening. January will be our last month in the Bay Area. If this comes as a surprise to you, it also comes as a surprise to me. But sometimes life just happens like that...
Some of you know that I purchased a new construction condo in Denver that closed in November. You may also know that I've been deliberating a move to Colorado on and off for the past 2.5 years where the other half of my family resides, and each time have determined that my attachment to California -- to my friends, my community, my family, the climate, the air, the landscape, the comfort, the familiarity, the ties -- were too strong to break.  Artist unknown. I had an epiphany today.
The George I have been holding onto is gone. He is free in the purest sense. He has no desire or attachment. Not for any of us, and not for this human life. He cares for me, but this relationship is largely out of balance. It’s like the movie Her, except George is not an operating system, he is a soul spirit. In my dream he was telling me that it is time for my heart to let him go. That it is futile for me to continue holding him so near, for he hasn’t the capacity to reciprocate. Though I have often felt closer to George since his death, it is impossible to determine how much of that is a true deepening of our love, and how much of that I have fabricated to satisfy my longing and disappointment, to cope with the reality that our relationship, as I knew it, is over. It makes no sense for me to consider him the way I used to consider him. I know only a fraction of him now. Human George loved me, and human George died. Spirit George is an entirely different entity, and he belongs to no one. Tonight George feels more like a man who is leaving me, than my love watching over me. This is another kind of heartbreak. It stings. And it sets me free.  I had a really beautiful and heartbreaking dream about George last night. I have a hard time remembering the exact narrative, but the emotions are strong. I was waiting for him to come. I was in a place with a handful of other people, and we were all waiting for something. There was a waiting bench, the kind you find at a bus stop. George didn’t come. He kept finding other things to do, other places to be. I would wait, and wait, and wait, and find other things to occupy my time. I began to wonder if he was ever coming for me. Finally, he appeared. He was wearing this green shirt of his, the one with a lightning bolt on it that I’ve been wearing to bed lately. I looked at his face, and it was illuminated. I have not seen him this vividly for a long time. His hair had grown long and wavy and he was smiling, unapologetically, and I thought, There you are -- where have you been? But I didn’t ask, and he didn’t explain. He just stood there with a grounded peaceful presence, smiling. I felt joy and disappointment and love and longing all at once. I went to him and embraced him and wrapped my legs around his waist, and I held him. I forgave him in that instant. But I felt my heart breaking. His energy was very quiet, not wanting or grasping or desiring anything, though I wanted him to desire me. As in all dreams I have about George, he was aloof and unattached, while I wished for him to reciprocate the joy and excitement I felt to experience his physical body next to mine. I held onto him until I awoke. Today I am sad. |
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