At one point it was exactly what I wanted

I think it is safe to say I may have made a lifestyle change, I don't want to jinx it yet, but even when I have steered off track I seem to get right back on. Hopefully I can keep that up. I still need to get my butt in gear learning the guitar, but everytime I hear a really good song I think about learning it, so that is a good sign.

Now, as for matters of the heart, I know what I wanted before Christmas. I wanted to slow down a bit and meet someone nice, someone you can hang out with on Tuesday, or Sunday. Someone you actually do things with. Then Christmas came, and as hard as I try I can't kick my bad habits. "I can resist anything but temptation" -Oscar Wilde. 

But I broke all the rules and let someone in. I thought I could just keep doing it and not be bothered.. how silly to think I could control my feelings, fuck. But then I got brave and decided better to live like a lion for a short while, then every day as a lamb, right? Confessions of the hopeless romantic happened in real life. Double Fuck. I am so bad at this shit. I think this is the first time in at least 4 years I seriously felt anything, and I think I knew all along it could never be anything, maybe I thought the chances of getting disappointed were less likely that way. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.I think it is safe to say that I can start to move on now though, maybe start looking for what I decided I wanted six months ago, not the "kinda lovin' that makes you want to pull down the shades." - Aerosmith 

I plan on being a total girl about this for about two days, I am going to cry, drink wine, listens to sad songs and watch chickflicks. Then I am going to get back on track. I feel like I am handling this well, as long as I stay away from the whiskey it should stay that way :) 

The Dance

I have sent you my invitation,
the note inscribed on the palm of my hand by the fire of living.
Don’t jump up and shout, “Yes, this is what I want! Let’s do it!”
Just stand up quietly and dance with me.

Show me how you follow your deepest desires,
spiraling down into the ache within the ache,
and I will show you how I reach inward and open outward
to feel the kiss of the Mystery, sweet lips on my own, every day.

Don’t tell me you want to hold the whole world in your heart.
Show me how you turn away from making another wrong without abandoning yourself when
you are hurt and afraid of being unloved.

Tell me a story of who you are,
and see who I am in the stories I live.
And together we will remember that each of us always has a choice.

Don’t tell me how wonderful things will be . . . some day.
Show me you can risk being completely at peace,
truly okay with the way things are right now in this moment,
and again in the next and the next and the next. . .

I have heard enough warrior stories of heroic daring.
Tell me how you crumble when you hit the wall,
the place you cannot go beyond by the strength of your own will.

What carries you to the other side of that wall, to the fragile beauty of your own humanness?

And after we have shown each other how we have set and kept the clear, healthy boundaries that
help us live side by side with each other, let us risk remembering that we never stop silently
loving
those we once loved out loud.

Take me to the places on the earth that teach you how to dance,
the places where you can risk letting the world break your heart.
And I will take you to the places where the earth beneath my feet and the stars overhead make
my heart whole again and again.

Show me how you take care of business
without letting business determine who you are.
When the children are fed but still the voices within and around us shout that soul’s desires have
too high a price,
let us remind each other that it is never about the money.

Show me how you offer to your people and the world
the stories and the songs
you want our children’s children to remember.
And I will show you how I struggle not to change the world,
but to love it.

Sit beside me in long moments of shared solitude,
knowing both our absolute aloneness and our undeniable belonging.
Dance with me in the silence and in the sound of small daily words,
holding neither against me at the end of the day.

And when the sound of all the declarations of our sincerest
intentions has died away on the wind,
dance with me in the infinite pause before the next great inhale
of the breath that is breathing us all into being,
not filling the emptiness from the outside or from within.

Don’t say, “Yes!”
Just take my hand and dance with me.

© Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from the book The Dance, HarperONE, SanFrancisco, 2001