The Beginning of an End (for me at least)

Ah the whirlwind of emotions that is the U.S. Of A. There have only been two places in the world that I have ever, truly, considered living outside of Australia: New Zealand and North America. Each time I arrive I always ask myself the same question “Why wasn’t I here sooner?”.

Maybe it has something to do with the 36 hours of flights, buses, terminals and lost luggage. 

But as I cruise through the sleeping streets of a very warm night in Boulder, none of that matters. The air smells sweet, sweeter still with the knowledge that I’ll be reunited with my lover soon. I arrive at the address, there’s a camper van in the driveway, our temporary home for the night. She spills out into the night air, nude and more than half asleep, straight into my arms. It’s like no time has passed at all.

Only, time has passed. 2 months in fact.

This fact becomes painfully aware the next morning in a cafe. Questions are asked, questions that are not aimed at a jet lagged, travel weary brain. Questions aimed at my heart. Questions of it’s absence. Tears are spilled. Coffees go cold.

We knew separation would not be easy. Chels has been traveling for 2 months, but not just traveling. She has been experiencing. She has been doing beautiful, opening soul work, plunging into her depths, connecting with amazing people, both in group settings (in courses) and personally through reacquainting herself with her family. 

Juxtapose this with my life. I have been static, hidden in our beautiful forest home. I have been grinding the ‘usual’, stressing about work, lamenting a seperation from my lover in a setting where everything reminds me of her, restraining a collapse into ‘ash work’ (ash work is in reference to a term I first heard from Robert Bly’s thesis on modern man ‘Iron John’. It refers to the base work that a man goes through after he has ‘burnt out’ been destroyed in some way or voluntarily gone underground to soul work).

It’s not like I haven’t grown, we have just grown in vastly different ways. Whilst hers has been uplifting, mine has been constricting. A breath in, though at the point where I am staring at her tears in a cafe in Boulder the realization hits me. Too long have I dallied in my hidden home. Too long have I tried to hold myself back from the ashes, from the collapse. It’s time to let go, to be burnt and destroyed. It’s time to breath out.

I bow my head. I open my heart. I cry too now and admit my short comings. I promise to see her, if she will see me too.

And so sets the tone for the journey, the realization of why I am here and what stage of my life I’m at. It is the destruction of the old. It’s time to bravely step into the fire and allow myself to be turned to ash, so that something else may grow from from the fertile ground. To have faith to let go of the broken image of ego that I’m holding onto and allow the Phoenix to rise.

Bit by bit it has become more obvious to me. Revelations are exposed at the right time, as they need to be (if you choose to listen though is another question) but I still had surprise that I had not realized this sooner. My own theory, based on looking back at my life, showed that at every seven years, my life cycle has changed, I have changed. At each of these points, a rite of passage happened (or at least needed to) in order to move to the next stage of my life. 7, 14, 21, 28…35. I turn 35 in 3 months [slaps my palm onto my forehead].

This is the beautiful thing about a conscious relationship. Within its container, there are no taboos, no words left unsaid. If something is wrong (or right), then it’s brought up, processed and then acted upon. Growth is accelerated. In this case not only the growth of the relationship, but my personal growth. Without this emotional ‘kick in the ass’, I don’t know if I would have been motivated to critically look at myself in this way. It set me on my path of change, of growth, and for this I am eternally grateful to her, both as a person and as the power that she represents.



Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Beginning of an End (for me at least)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s