The Soil in Which I Grow
I'm in a spot where I'm winding down, between laundry loads -- last two are folded & put away, the last for the night is in the dryer. In what I find to be the meditative space of folding laundry I was thinking about the weekend I'd had. The bicycling on Saturday and a day of shared chores & dinner today. The time talking in between to CK and with AM. The feelings that come up around being cared for.
I got back to my laptop after getting the laundry done for the moment, the leftovers put away, and sat down to most lovely message from CK. She commented to me how she used to think of relationships as plants, things to be tended. She said that now she saw each of us as a plant, the relationship is the soil in which we all grow.
My eyes closed to just let the words settle. It is so lovely, so apt.
Hogen has told me that all the terrible things that I have survived can become potent medicine. Something so powerful and healing is able to be distilled of awfulness. I had shared this with CK earlier while lying on the bed upstairs feeling the breeze from off the river move over us. I was very mindful in repeating this to her how hard this is to me, how often I observe myself trying to hide or push away the the parts of my history that arouse shame, fear, deep grieving, and worry.
I thought of our compost pile. The things which make a plant grow big, healthy, and in the case of vegetables, most nourishing. Our vegan house sends that majority of all food waste and scraps into the compost. Quite often things go into a very large container at the side of the sink, the mostly clear plastic presents a view of decomposing plant matter. This stuff that looks rather nasty to my eyes will go out into the pile, be broken down further, mixed with clippings, and existing compost. The stuff will get hot, chemical reactions happening all the time, beneficial stuff culturing & growing until the whole of it steams with energy.
In the end it is a beautiful nourishing thing. The compost builds up the hard, clay soil here, slowing helping what wasn't nurturing much of anything into something that will grow the plants that in turn will nourish us. The growing of food is such a direct and intimate relationship with what we eat; all made more productive by having rich soil, compost.
The somewhat overdone plant analogy is a lotus. Out of the nasty, black muck of a pond's bottom a lotus grows. From the deep darkness it reaches upwards to produce the most radiant of blossoms. The lotus represents purity, renewal, creation -- all because it grows out of the nourishing slime.
So is my history. Damned awful stuff I went through, but out of that nastiness I have not only managed to grow, but now find myself thriving. Like the compost pile, it is all thrown in, stirred around, and in the steaming heat all is distilled into goodness, potent medicine.When I allow myself to feel the range of things, even the nasty stuff, I grow. I grow in the rotting, steaming compost of my past and I grow in love.
Roles
Today turned out to be less productive and more stressful than I was anticipating. DW came to have lunch with me finally, after changing schedules, over sleeping and coming late. Things went OK until I commented on that I felt sometimes she wasn't very compassionate in her view towards people in general. She got defensive immediately, I withdrew and noted to never mind because I just wanted her to have a good trip. She immediately stormed off to her car. Upon my insisting she talk to me she made a point to defiantly light a Camel.
This blow up is really a long time coming. When I split up with her father she really made a lot bad choices that hurt everyone in her life a lot. It culminating her in assaulting a police office and being put into state mandated therapy, at first in a locked up facility. She told me in as many words to stay out of her life.
Per the therapist decision they decided to work with the relationship between DW's father and her, leaving me out. Since I made both DW and her father uncomfortable they were both glad to leave me out. A couple of years passed. DW even made a point in her blow up today to note that she didn't decide to leave me out. I chose not to point out to her that her therapist didn't preclude her from contacting me, rather the decision was to limit family therapy to just her Dad and her.
Later she contacted me a little, making a couple of hesitant phone calls. When she got closer to being released I was invited to come to a final therapy session. At that time DW noted that she just had to be in the present, wouldn't talk about anything that had happened, and was very defensive. When I suggested that there wasn't any "going back" to how things had been years prior, that things would have to be established all over again, including trust, DW told me I was being unreasonable. Just as she expected.
Since then I have seen very little of DW. She has been doing the things she wants to do, even more so now that she is 18. He father continues not to talk to me -- DW tells me it is because I have wounded him so much; I did point out that he hurt me a great deal too. She will come over, occasionally when I've made a point to contact her, for dinners and tell me everything she is up to.
Today I found out that I have just not been living up to the expectations of "Mom". DW really feels a need to have me be in the role of mother for her since her own mother was crazy and abusive. I'm the only person who has ever given any serious effort to the role in her life and that I went on with my life when she told me to get out has apparently been very painful. I was told I should have not listened to her, I should have pushed it on her.
She continues to be so defensive that it was really impossible to get her to see that it isn't blame that I'm laying at her feet, I'm just noting the truth. She didn't want me involved in her life and I listened to her. I've tried to make myself available to her, but she has set priorities to be with her friends and do the things 18 year-olds do. I've often had to be the one to send text messages or leave voice mails to get her to come over and let us know how she is doing.
Ultimately things ended on a more positive note. I think it made it clear to her that although one relationship is gone, we cannot time travel and do it over again, but there is a way for us to build a new relationship. Oddly enough this is practically what I said to her when she was released to her father's custody again. Maybe she's in a better place to hear it now. I hope so.
I don't have a good road map for being a good mother. An 18 year-old, who isn't even my daughter by biology or marriage, wanting me to be a good mom seems to be a really big challenge. I can think of a long list of mistakes I made when I was trying to parent her age 4 through 12. I do believe I owned up to making a mistake with her right away, if not immediately, apologized, and tried to not ever make the same mistake again. But now, how do you suddenly parent an adult?
Kind of moot for a while. DW is off to parts East to see the country. Wander her way around with no responsibilities. I think it is OK that she does this although it is clearly something that my own mother would never have let me do. I was paying bills, paying for college, paying for books, paying for loans, and encouraged to get out of the house as quickly as I could. Pushed into the decision to move in with someone before I was really ready to. It is something I've always kind of wished I could do and now seems even more unlikely.
Maybe by the time she's back I'll have a better handle on her wanting me to really be in a parent role again. Funny how it is totally a role. The only thing keeping it in place is the desire to have it there. She wants, from the way she sounded this afternoon, feels a need to have me play this role for her. There was part of me that just wanted to walk away when she stormed off. I guess some part of me still plays the role too since I went after her instead and despite it looking strange, sitting on the sidewalk next to her car while she talked to me.
Slipping Back Into Routine
I woke up this morning at CK's when Atari jumped on the bed around 6:30, meowing and wanting attention. He ended up jumping over me and settled in the space between my knees & chest. I noted the golden light coming in under the blinds, pet Atari briefly and listened to CK breath.
It felt so nice, so lovely that I hated having to disturb the quiet, upset the cat. My alarm was going off and I had work to get to. CK sleepily mumbled at me, pulled the duvet up over us. I snuggled up to her a little, giving her little kisses. I wished I could just lay there with the two of them in the cool of the morning instead I reluctantly pulled away from her and took a shower.
When I came out, dressed but for my shoes, CK looked up at me and muttered, "You're already dressed." I sat back down on the bed with her and listened as she tried to wake up, insisting she was going to at least get up and walk with me. I insisted back that she just sleep some more. She drifted back off, her hand slipping off my knee.
My heart had a moment of feeling so full at seeing her there sleeping with Atari curled up by her legs, at home in Portland. She looked like she was really resting. I could appreciate just how sexy she is, how completely appealing to me on that level, but I was also just struck at how sweet and beautiful the morning was. I forced myself up and out the door, putting my headphones on.. The moment on the bed kept my step light all the walking to the MAX stop, riding into downtown, and onto my work day.
Mostly good day at the office. Usual mix of talking with people, even after these several years it feels strange that chatting is encouraged because it encourages strong teams. I did some training, wrapped up some things, finished some script stuff I was working on. Got some really frustrating news from our IT department. About that time, when I was feeling particularly uncharitable, I left to take my bicycle back to the shop.
After teaching asana practice this evening I popped over to CK's for a little visit. Before I left she hugged me close asking if I'd really worried her family would talk her out of our relationship. I told her that mostly I was feeling anxious for her stress down there in Sacramento and my being up in Portland unable to take care of her. From all of that anxiety bubbled up silly stuff that I knew wasn't real at all. It isn't that I don't know she's fully capable of caring for herself. I just like to do things that leave her feeling cared for -- making dinner, helping shop for groceries, just being there to listen to her.
When I got to the house all hot and flushed from the ride AM helped me with my stuff and told me he was proud of me. It feels strange that someone should be proud of me for doing this. I'm trying to keep it in perspective and try to see the accomplishment. I feel that when I reflect on some of the anxiety I've felt at riding a bicycle again, but I fall into the usual habit of not taking pride in what I'm doing.
Finally Home
CK got home this evening and I am so relieved, happy and just settled feeling now that she's back. We got over to my house, grabbed up my things, she got to see the new bicycle and we came over to her flat for the evening. Dropped stuff off, went to the market, came back and made up some quick tempeh tacos. Sat on the bed, ate dinner with a beer then played Magic (I won after not having played for years & years with an "elven" deck of hers).
Just a slide back into "routine". I realized, as she was hugging me at the car in the airport garage, that some undercurrent of fear had really crept in. Some nagging sensation that she'd gone down to see her family and they'd have "talked sense" into her about this whole relationship thing. She set her things in the back and hugged me close; just huge relief whooshed through me.
A trickle of it has started inside, I went ahead and paid to park for the 10 minutes (tops) I was in the lot so I could meet her as she came through security. Her flight had been a little early, luckily I checked at the house AND my house is very close to the airport, so I just made it. Walking across the open area just as I saw her come out of the gates. She smiled when she saw me and gave me a quick hug & kiss.
It is the ease with which she displays affection for me that just leaves me silent and smiling sometimes. The first long-term girlfriend I had wouldn't show me affection in public to the extent of pulling away from me when I went to take her hand while walking together in downtown Portland. I set that aside, never being able to adequately explain to her why that hurt me so much and she never really allowed the space to put it to words.
There is just such intimate beauty in being able to lovingly touch someone in public. Not even to the extent of passionately kissing or touching. Holding hands, the way I put my head on CK's shoulder when I'm tired of standing, or the way she puts her hand on the back of my head and neck. They are not passionate, excessive displays in public but they are very intimate. They are precisely why I have started telling my Zen sangha about my relationship. Those intimate touches give it away and it is unfair of me to try and hide them, suppress them because they might be seen by someone who will judge.
What I find so interesting is how powerful they are when I'm made aware of how people can react. The rude Texan woman giving us a glare in line at the aquarium in Vancouver B.C. All that had happened was one of those sweet, simple intimacies of comfort and affection. Had we been a heterosexual couple of any age at all she would likely have not even noticed or maybe even smiled. Because we are two women sharing that level of intimacy, clearly "more than just friends" we got a glare.
I don't think about making those kinds of gestures. There's no time to get wrapped up in worrying that someone will condemn me for kissing CK lightly, or holding her hand when we walk together. We share that deep, intimate connection and love so why wouldn't I want to just have the simple pleasure of having that level of public touch. I don't even think twice about it. I suppose that's why it hurt so much years ago when MM pulled away from me -- although she loved me and would say so, she was always thinking about who might be watching, who might tell her parents (at the time they lived in Hawaii still), a client might see and not call back. She was never just caught up in loving me and wanting to hold my hand for the sheer pleasure of that connection.
That so much of American society thinks that way and worse is pretty infuriating. Why should it matter in any way at all when people want to express love and joy in the world. There is such a stinginess about Love. When Jessa was dying I really had a perspective shift on Love and gained this sense of the vastness of it just out there -- rather along the lines of how the late Douglas Adams described how immense the universe is* in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
I am perplexed at people wanting to hold Love in, codify it, contain it despite it being so utterly beyond our full knowing.
* "Space is big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-boggling big it is. I mean you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist's, but that's just peanuts to space."
If you replace "space" above with "love" up there and it pretty much sums it up.
Happy Weekend!
Oh I am so happy there are no meetings, no co-workers, no code (unless it sounds like fun to do), and no office tension for two days! I had a tension headache going strong by 1PM and it has been going back and forth since then. I feel it from my jaw to my shoulders, all across my head. I'll neti before bed to see if that offers any relief at all -- maybe some sinus irritation complicating things.
The official announcement was made that a person would be leaving my team. The news I learned about yesterday. I'm was aware of knowing ahead of time, not really being able to reveal that (doesn't seem appropriate). I just wanted to work on my scripts too, but there was talking to do with team members. It was just tiring. I did get some more accomplished on my scripts but it was all done through the haze of a headache.
CK wrote me late last night, well very early this morning, to let me in on how she was doing on Wednesday night. She was less anxious mentally than I had thought and was feeling the anxiety in her body in a way that was akin to ticklishness.
When I read that this morning it occurred to me how my anxiety colors things. In writing last night I felt I had identified how my anxiety gets tied up in a desire to comfort CK. That it becomes my own desire to be comforted by touching her. To some degree that could almost be seen as a positive under some circumstances -- both of our feelings of anxiety might be helped when we hold each other. But I also need to be able to be OK with the anxiety I feel. Reading her message this morning I could see how in working to just be with my anxiety is helpful to us both. I still think it was good I remembered I could turn to using metta meditation as a container for my anxiety -- turning it into merit.
Today she's sent me messages letting me know she is doing fine, we talked while I was over with Atari, and chatted this evening. It has been wonderful to have that connection, I'm so grateful that she is willing to include that effort in her time away. I was telling her earlier that I would be just fine if I didn't get that connection, but I do prefer having it. It feels good, nurturing to maintain the closeness of our relationship even when one of us is away.
I'm starting to feel a little less shaky about things. At times it has felt like everything would just fly apart, leaving all of us hurt and I felt terribly guilty and ashamed that I might hurt the two most important people in my life. It has been so terrifying to try and settle into this relationship. Maybe it is only because trying to maintain my practice with it keeps me aware of how connecting, opening up to intimacy with another person can be so frightening. CK is the first person I've fallen in love with without any of the layers of personae I had in prior relationships. It feels at times so much bigger without all of that cushion between my essential self and another person.
It also has been hard to let go of fear that things are going to go badly with AM, that we will end up hating one another, something that always was in the background in my first marriage. It has taken a while for me to really grasp how exhausting the undercurrent of jealously had been, especially since it was mixed with the message that I was supported in whatever I wanted to do. I would go ahead and do something that was fulfilling to me, maybe even something like going for a bicycle ride and not even a date with another person, and I would be told that what I wanted to do was fine, I was supposed to be able to do what I wanted. After all, AP and I supposedly had a polyamorous marriage. But I'd do what I wanted, needed to do and I'd be greeted with silence, sharp words, envy.
What does it mean to miss someone
Last night, while trying to get to sleep I saw that CK lay facing me and she had pulled her hands up tight to her chest. At that moment I'd been feeling a bit of fear and was rubbing my hands with anxious energy. Seeing her face tucked down towards her hands I thought that we looked like two frightened children hiding under the blankets together. I had a moment of feeling things shift, going a little sideways. Some buried echo of being frightened with another little girl under a blanket so many years ago. I was aware of wanting to touch her, feeling how the desire to comfort my own self would try to rationalize as comforting her tension over the flight in the morning.
It took a while, some mindful breathing and I was eventually able to drift off to sleep. In the morning I was tired and sore, but very happy when she told me she actually slept well if too little. I lay in bed aware of her moving around, finishing off her packing, then we were into the car and at the airport.
At noon I ran into a very challenging day at work. More big changes. They affect me personally and make my boss, who is my friend too, miserable. I spent 3 hours solid on the phone. At 2PM I heated up some re-fried & corn tortillas and quickly ate them while on mute. My flood dream seems like some kind of strange premonition now.
AM put together dinner for us and we quickly ate out on the deck before going to the Dharma Center for Zazen. I finished first and sat back in my chair on the deck, pulling my feet in close. "Missing her already?", AM asked me.
I thought about it. I'd been thinking about it all day. Yes, I miss her. But it isn't just her companionship and feeling cut off from that since she's in California. We've been apart for a few days at a time. Although even being apart for more than a day or two in town and I miss her.
I finally answered AM. I told him it wasn't that I was missing her. I was feeling the anticipatory anxiety for her time with her family tomorrow. What I am missing is the ability to be there and rub her feet, put music on for her, take care of her in whatever way offers her comfort and ease. I can't do that from Portland. All I can do is think about her tension around family visits.
During zazen I first just sat, just felt my breath in my body. Starting with fuller breaths, really filling and emptying my lungs. In the second sitting period I returned to metta practice. I offered it for my co-worker who was given upsetting news today of a change in manager; that she will be joining a different team. I offered it to my boss who has had a long year of changes, reductions in her team. Finally I settled in on CK. Making metta a container for my own worry, feeling lost without the ability to offer physical comfort, and gathering up her worried, tense expression I chanted metta practice for her in my mind.
Afterwards I chanted my second time. I was much louder, more confident Kojun said. She thought a very stressful work day led to a more easy chanting service. My teacher told me I needed to enjoy my voice more. He also said I will make an excellent Ino.
No hearing the voices of the past tonight when I chanted. I gave my teacher a quizzical look at his telling me to enjoy my voice more. I remember studying voice at college felt like such a daring thing. Done so far away from home no one would hear me and tell me that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Two thousand-plus miles I found that I had a strong, good voice but I never grew comfortable in it and I only enjoyed it when I was surrounded by the rest of the choir. Even then I felt a little nervous, as if at any time someone would tell I was an imposter and disgrace me.
Thursdays make for such late nights. At least tomorrow is Friday and there isn't much beyond gardening planned.
Packing
CK is packing to go to Sacramento for a few days to her Mom's. I'm sitting here typing, talking to her here and there as she puts together the things she needs for the trip. Found a promising yoga studio nearby and sent the information.
Nearly every local, close friend of mine as well as one of my best friends in San Francisco all heard about these emails. I dissected them at length and felt my anxiety grow big. Then Busterpher was sick and I was off to the monastery for women's' New Year retreat. I had invited CK to come out and see the place, have lunch when AM came out to pick me up. Throughout the retreat thoughts, desires, wishes all would percolate up from time to time, offering welcome intrusion compared to the difficult practice of the retreat. My heart welled up with emotion when I came outside on the first day of the new year and saw CK and AM there.
Just over 6 months later and she's off to Sacramento again. We don't run into the nervous, new relationship tension and anxiety as much anymore. We've hit a few bumps, some of them at full speed, in establishing a relationship with no cultural markers, talk about D.I.Y.! There have been scary moments but we're able to at least see through them, able to recall when the small mind gets overwhelmed that the person we're with is compassionate, ethical, honest and loving.
Now it is many minutes later than when I started. CK is all packed, mostly. The spare computer here died while I was typing earlier so I'm now using her "real" computer. Knowing her as I do there is evidence of the bond in this sharing of something so vitally important to her. That she feels my having the means to do this is important and worth sharing.
We need to try to sleep to get up at least by 7AM to go to the airport. In December I sat with the anxiety of wondering if she wanted to pursue a romantic relationship. Tomorrow I'll sit with missing her, not seeing her just before I chant service and no plans over the weekend for either us or our family. AM and I will work in the garden, getting winter squash planted finally. Maybe seeding some salad greens, kale and chard. I hope there will be some squash from our garden when she's back. I already look forward to cooking dinner for her when she is back on Monday. I suppose that is slightly more positive sounding than saying that I miss her already.
Fireworks!
I'm finally getting to my post for the 4th on the fifth since just now the house is settling down. Turned out to be a very full, busy, good day.
I woke up at 8AM feeling groggy from going to bed at nearly midnight and having taken some melatonin to be sure I rested better than I had Wednesday night. My back hurt, I felt slow and a little nauseated. AM and I got up and went to New Seasons to get some shopping for the day in ahead of crowds. We wanted to get things done early too so we would have food to take out to the monastery for the Fourth of July, pan-Buddhist picnic.
AM checked in with me if I still wanted to go all the way out to the picnic; I had to admit I didn't look like I felt like I was up to it. But I pressed on ahead with the cookies I wanted to make and AM worked on making some potato salad. We realized that it would work best if he stayed home -- AM wanted to clean the house and get some things done that wouldn't otherwise get done if all three of us went to the picnic. CK and I ended up heading out to Clatskanie together, enjoying the day of food and sharing.
CK's mother phoned while we were out at Great Vow, leaving a worried sounding voice message. CK had sent her a letter on Wednesday telling her mom about our relationship. On the drive home CK and I talked a lot about choosing a relationship path that is so widely different from the cultural norm. Not only does it require us to be very creative and painstakingly honest, but it becomes a challenge to everyone we meet and share this information with.
I've been moving forward to tell members of my Zen community about my relationships and the state of things. On Thursday my therapist noted that the responses I've gotten must be very validating. I hadn't recognized it as such at that point, which isn't out of the normal for me. Now, after a couple of days I'm starting to feel that. The idea that I'm really going to be able to be truly authentic and the world won't blow up in my face. It is so hard to relax into idea, the instinct to brace for impact, to make myself small, is so ingrained.
CK ended up talking with her mom for a while, sitting out in the car so she'd have quiet. KW and D came over. We got together veggie brats, tofu & tempeh burgers, AM had made more potato salad, I sliced up some watermelon. All the while I worried that the conversation was going poorly, worried that CK was having to suddenly defend something that is a source of happiness and nurturing in her life. After nearly an hour I couldn't stand it and tried to peer inconspicuously out the dining room window into the car. I felt huge relief when I finally was able to confirm a genuine smile on CK's face.
Fireworks of a personal nature. Lighting something, throwing it up into the air and hoping the world greats it with appreciation. There's a chance that you'll throw something up and it will go all wrong; either a dud or sparks flying dangerously close to important things. There's also a chance that everyone will have a glimpse of the true possibility in the world.