There we were, my dharma punx buddies and I sitting around
the campfire a few years ago at a campground in the Berkshires. We were laughing, joking and talking when our
friend Pete asked, “do women find men who are
spiritual attractive or do they see us as pussies?”
or something like that. A passionate
conversation erupted between the group about relationships, love and
spirituality. Evenly distributed between
men and women, the details of romantic relationship experiences were exposed
over crackling flames of the campfire. I
don’t remember much more of what was being said…
I had a different experience than my contemporaries under the star filled
summer sky.
Sinking deeper and deeper into my camping chair, literally
clinging to myself for dear life a darker emotion was taking hold. I couldn’t speak or move…
because this debilitating emotion was paralyzing. There were words and tones I could hear,
snippets of discussion but my experience went somewhere else. It was gripping.
A moment of silence fell among the group and in that moment
I took my opportunity to force out this sentence through a few small sobs, “I
am afraid.”
My friend Paul responded, “of course you are, you’re
allowed to be, you’ve been through a lot.”
There it was.
Validated by a close friend who truly understood this layer of suffering
that was enveloping me. I was allowing
myself to admit to this deep rooted fear, and the beginning of an exploratory
journey in clarity where I allowed myself to dig deep into it and practice letting
it go.
Some people are afraid of spiders, or heights, or fire, or
the dark. Me? I have a fear of
love. It’s not the loving part
that is the issue, it’s the pain that befalls me when
it ends in heartbreak. One would think
that age and time would have taught me to be able to get though these romantic
failings more easily, but the blows I’ve endured to my precious
heart have left irreparable scars. In my
years of practice, I’ve cleaned up much of the
blackness, the scar tissue that I’ve let become a
protective layer. In my other kinds of
relationships, I’ve learned to be vulnerable and
open. Yet with romantic love, I continue
to suffer this feeling of tremendous trepidation. My fear tells me, “of
this… I am certain another heartbreak will kill you.”
It was a ‘mommy’
time weekend this week, I took the Zman and his buddy snowboarding at a little
local mountain. Bathing and makeup
seemed optional, so I passed making the effort for comfy baggy snowpants and a
tee shirt. As usual, being done well
before my gaggle of little boys were done with their riding, I went into the
bar for one post-ride beer. There I met…
a guy. It wasn’t
much of an unusual entry to a conversation, amusement about my beer snobbery,
chatting about the area, how neat this secret HV treasure is and such. I could have been sitting there for hours or
minutes… time in that moment seemed to not really take
hold. What did surprise me from this
chance meeting were three things… one, that he actually
asked for my phone number and two.. how unusually bummed I was that they left
so soon and three… how incredibly aware I was of
the magnetic sparks manifesting in our first meeting.
There was no waiting time … he texted, I texted back
and a hang plan was set. Me, the jaded
ice queen hermit was going to embark on a real life date in the real world with
a real guy.
And the date was… the best date I’ve
been on since my divorce. I won’t
kiss and tell, but I can tell you, I still feel those unmentionable kisses in
my toes.
… and now…
the ‘game’ of dating begins and all that fear
that arises with it.
The spiritual warrior me wants to be true to myself, to say what
I want to say or do what I want to do.
No games, no illusions or delusions.
Unfortunately, the mature 40 something chick I am knows
better… knows that I have to now play the game filled with
rules, the sport where I’m supposed to be a surprise,
mysterious, aloof. What sucks is, I’m
really none of those things. I’m
far from mysterious, jeesh I must be the least mysterious lady on the
planet. Pretend? Follow protocol? This rebellious feminist finds all this so
very contradictory to my beliefs.
One of the reasons I hate dating the most is the sport of it…
the ‘rules’ that are going to shape
how the relationship will be moving forward.
I’m supposed to suppress all the characteristics that make
Elissa Jane… me?
More perpetuators of this debilitating fear, having to be
something else, someone else or I am going to blow it somehow. One of the
greatest parts of my personality is my fearlessness. I’m afraid of nothing…
well almost nothing. When people recoil
at the site of a daddy long legs or the view from the edge of a tall mountain I
unintentionally judge them, like really what’s the big deal? In the presence of this gripping fear of
heartbreak and inauthentic game playing that is all encompassing, I realize
that I can relate. If I hadn’t
learned what I did in my Year to Live practice, I would do what feels safe and
walk away. That’s
what people in fear do… run from the very thing that
ignites the trigger.
Trust me… all these little fabulous sparks
are blowing up the powder keg and I am reminded that this thing will lead to
that pain. I can see the dots
connecting.. the tape play out.. or can I?
The scariest part of all is… while the fear is still
there… the delusion isn’t. I can’t see the heartbreak or
the end, I can’t even see past dinner time later
tonight. It is my enlightened and
rational self that hears my friend Gary say, “right now, it’s
like this.”
I really have no idea what is coming next or what will
happen, if we’ll go out again (I hope we do) or
if we don’t. I don’t
know what anyone else is thinking, and frankly it’s none of my business
what other people are thinking about me.
The only thing I have control over is this aversion I’m
feeling triggered by memories of a pain that I’ve endured from other dating
scenarios in my past. Am I going to give
those relationships that didn’t work out my
happiness? No.
For today, in this moment, I’m grateful for feeling
this way again, romantic, hopeful, curious… and even
vulnerable. I’m
ok with all that is arising because, well, I’m ok with me.
Human nature is filled with fear, and I guess just like
people who are filled with phobias of other kinds, I need to be compassionate
to myself and give myself the same understanding I’ve
learned to give others.
