Hex 2: “Receptivity to Love”

Question to I Ching:

What do I need to do regarding my situation with DK?

Answer:

Hexagram 2:” Receptivity to Love:

Your love life is on fertile ground right now. This hexagram denotes “devotion,” “readiness,” and the creative spirit of the Earth. A powerful relationship has begun or is soon to manifest. This hexagram reminds one to be open to the idea of love, as love can come from where you least expect it.  Give and you will receive. Offer a kind word to someone, a hug, a greeting or an offer of assistance. See love for what it is: A conscious act of devotion and a willingness to stand by a special person.  Creativity and the act of creation are referenced here, and creative energies will play an extremely significant role.”

 Thinking if I stay any more “receptive” to him, I’ll begin to take on the characteristics of his garbage “receptacle”!!  Or maybe it’s too late….and I already bear those characteristics…  I already define giving till it hurts and have no further interest in the martyrdom lifestyle that brings me.  Nor does there seem to be a whole lot of Return on Investment.  And martyrs are rarely respected until they actually die for their cause to humanity.  My cause to humanity in this is to cease getting on humanity’s nerves from being a whiney cry baby:-D

Listen to me as though I get nothing in return!  I get everything in huge amounts spread out among tiny small moments!

Facing repercussions today.  Little nervous, but way-laying that by reflecting on how I ever got to this place at all and the madness that holds me here!  Things will be fine.  I know it.  It’s all going according to some greater plan, I’m sure:)

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Blue Jeans and a Rosary

I just love this song!  It’s strange how music can sometimes say it so much better than any description you might try to place on something.  It’s so validating to hear something that defines your situation and think, “That’s it!  Gosh, maybe I’m not so misunderstood after all!”  Well, I probably am, but it’s at least nice to tell myself maybe I’m not……

Not sure what’s the sitch Dave…  You’ve thrust me back into time.  I seem to have taken a hundred steps backward….not sleeping again, smoking way too much, distracted, confused…and yet not quite so much as the way it was.  Funny how you can do that without trying much at all and what shakes up my whole world is a scarce pebble in your pond.  Life seems so funny that way.

I wonder who is better off?  You, with your ability to hide everything, lie whenever it makes things seem better, and just deny what’s difficult?  Or me, with my heart on my sleeve, my over-emotionalism and over-analysis of every detail, every mistake, every hope, every tragedy?  I truly think the happy, healthy aspect is smack in the middle between our extremes, but I still wonder whose better in the interim?  My guess is you, as someone like me longs for the ability to hide and deny, even if it’s for 5 minutes just to fake-believe that I’m handling it all well.  I’m certain you don’t ever wish to be more like me, with emotions and sentiments running amock, the heart hanging out there for every joe-shmoe to take a stab at. 

Yet while I long for your hardness to escape myself for even a minute, I also wonder who experiences life more fully?  You, in your denial, hiding yourself from the world?  Or me in my agony, trying to just get through each moment, but feeling every little stumble along the way…  Hmmm….it’s questionable.

I’m still here, you know….  I’m just staying back for awhile, regrouping and trying to get myself together.  I know you know I’m here and yet I still worry like you never do….  Are you okay?  Do you need anything?  What can I do?  What should I do?  In your apathetic nonchalance, you don’t struggle with those questions.  I’m jealous that you have the comfort of that security.  I envy you that.   I’ve never known it except the five minutes I believed it was there with you.  Otherwise, it is just some radical concept in my mind of what should be in the world.  Anyway…

She wore blue jeans and a rosary….

Randomly in the rain

I have a silent wish.  It’s one of those things that my mind (heart?) automatically projects out without any concious effort on my part.  Come to me when it rains.

I don’t know where this thought came from or when it began.  It’s just always been there, like the moon during the daylight shining quietly in the sky, but overwhelmed by the sun and so subtle yet so very amazingly just there.  Come to me when it rains.  Nothing has ever come from that automatic though/wish.  I’ve never even really imagines anything would.  It’s just one of those things that’s there in my mind when ever it rains

So it is odd that just yesterday it hit me that on Sunday (when he surprisingly and randomly stopped over on his way to work) that it was raining.  How did I miss that tiny detail?  He came in wet and I said, “Gosh, you’re all wet!”  and I laughed when he responded, “I just got out of the shower.”  …So, you wear your work clothes and  jacket in the shower now?  And we laughed a bit. 

It was raining so hard when he arrived, that he was almost drenched, yet this didn’t “hit” me until yesterday when I recalled hugging him and how wet he was.  Too funny that I’d miss that altogether!  Maybe I always felt like it only counts under precise circumstances?  Maybe I’d released that thought, whatever it is?  I don’t know, but he randomly, inconveniently (for him only), and without any real purpose, reason, or self motivation that I’m aware of, came to me while it rained.  How glorious!

Maybe I’d always imagined it as more romantic, as some irresistible urge to come to me when the sky is so overwhelmed, its tears are falling all over us?  As though it had to be a sudden visit full of vehemence?    Well in relative terms, wasn’t it?  Okay, so I didn’t throw myself into his arms and express my every emotion and neither did he(gosh, how I miss that experience!)…  I did, however, throw myself in his arms upon his leaving and not in a sexual way, but in the manner in which I always hold him completely, with everything I have that has the ability to wrap itself around him; as though I’m securing him, protecting him with my physical self, I have almost always done this…  And I’ve allowed little to force me to cease that ritual.

So really, it was….  It was a delayed reaction and came when I least expected it and didn’t realize it even, but he heard…he came…randomly in the rain…

Rainy reflections

She drives by the only home she’s ever known.  It’s nothing special to look at; it’s rather small and non-descript.  It’s the only safe and permanent place in the world to her.  Only it wasn’t permanent.  She’s no longer welcome there.  It’s no longer her home.  She can’t go into the kitchen and fix dinner.  She can’t take the soft green blanket with the worn silky edges and snuggle up on the sofa on this rainy day.  It is not her home.  The blinds on the picture window are open and she remembers what it feels like to be inside looking out that window at the cars going by and the occasional neighbor walking their dog…  The memories of safety and happiness fill her with sadness.  She’s desperate for hope.  Craziness mixed with that sense of desperation  wants to roll around in the grass there and pretend for a minute she still belongs there…  Let go of every common sense factor and pretend for just a moment that she ever really belonged there…

Home.  Maybe a new home will be home?  If she focused on gratitude for a bigger, beautiful home, with a big kitchen; if she created a garden of her own in the big back yard of that other house; if she fixed dinners, helped with homework, laughed and cried, lived and loved to the extent she was able.  If she worked at every detail, cleaned night and day, organized and arranged to perfection…until it became home.  That was the desperate hope she held onto today as she drove by that house which was no longer her home.  Could another, “better” home ever replace what she still felt was her home?  She prayed it could.  If not, then what?  Can’t think about that…  It had to.  And she would just keep going until it did. 

Rainy days always made her deeply reflect and she hoped she’d never have to look at that other house again.  She didn’t want those memories anyway.  They weren’t real.  It had all been an illusion.  As the people in her life carried on, she wondered what that felt like..  She watched other people live, try, lose, and fall in love.  Work, play, regret, embrace…  It could be done.  People did it every day. She just had to figure out how.

So many blessings to count.  So many things to forget.  Time moved slowly.  Plenty of time to count her beautiful blessings and great joys…