I find myself on day 3 of a “breakup”.
Waking at 5:20 am… Opening my eyes and thinking…gosh what amI going to do with my life. My first thoughts were about the human that I have
been fermenting with these past 6 months (aka Dating) Is he going to text me
good morning? Probably not… and then the ensuing GRIEF lands in my bed with me.
I shut my eyes a little longer until the ache in my chest is too much and I
have to open my eyes.
I pick up my phone and check to see if he is on FB. Then Iscroll and read memes on IG that are now AI curated for my heartbreak and
grief. I feel affirmed in my experience and loads sadder. Eventually when all
my email accounts are double checked and I check my text app to make sure he didn’t
text and I missed it…. I put my phone down and get out of bed.
Wow! I am in it. I am mature and have raised three kids, two long term relationships, many careers and here I am heart broken… empty…scared…gutted
and deeply loving.
It is a funny thing to be wavering between being 47 and alittle girl. My little brain was wired for being left. Abandoned. Scared.Alone. Hurt. Sad. Uncertain. As an adult who reads, watches, learns about
Trauma, I get it. I am re wiring my brain. My nervous system. I am practicing
loving myself, not abandoning myself and self regulation. But what doesn’t help…
Is knowing this.
The feeling of life and living in physical tissues is allthat matters. Being present to sensations in the body that arise. What we call or label them. How we choose to soften. Invite. Allow. Breathe. And do it all over again. It is exhausting. When I am “triggered” or deep sensation appears in the
form of alligator tears and a gut-wrenching sob, my choice is to restrict. Shut down. Distract. Medicate. OR soften, let go, breathe, invite and allow. Create space for movement and flow.
Mostly I choose the latter. But it is not easy work. Theterror and panic that I feel in moments of being away from this person is akin to death itself. The distance. The silence. The uncertainty. The emptiness.When I allow the feelings to move and soften, ALWAYS, there is a different
experience on the other side. Until the next moment or wave. And then I must choose again.
I am mature and wise enough to know that making room forgrief and flow is the ONLY choice because shutting it down, slowing it, ignoring it will only postpone the inevitable. She will find her way back thru another door of another name. I choose to invite her, GRIEF that is, with an
open heart. Weary and tired but open. Invite her to the table of my fear, sadnessand confusion. Invite her to allow me that is the tears and softness.
In my younger years, I did not do this. I was not adept attrusting my own flow. Tears. Softness. It wasn’t safe. Soooo In her place, arrived a fury of FIRE, Rage, outrage and loud voice. When I constricted her knock at my heart and streamed her thru with parameters… she heated up and
exploded.
I am wiser now and choose to allow her full flow. She movesfrom fury hot and full of rage to a stream of warm, wet, space creating movement.
I have choice. I have autonomy to choose what comes next. Ican feel in moments that I want to force a choice point. Do something drastic. Run away. Move. Quit. Find someone or something else to soothe my insides. My deeply loving heart. BUT... I pause and breathe and remember what my Most Special Aunty would say... “this too shall pass”.
We cannot speed up the decomposition cycle without degradingthe quality of the goodness at the end. If it burns too hot, certain nutrients are lost. If it doesn’t heat up high enough, pathogenic microbes can thrive. If we don’t have enough moisture or aeration we get an inferior stunted outcome. Composting…or decomposition is about total and utter transformation. The collaborative co creation of a mindful and meaningful death. Each ingredient, microbe, water droplet working together to break down and transform into another magnificent resource. Composting is based on relationships like EVERYTHING else in the natural world. Being that we too are part of this natural world, our lives, relating’s, communities and families follow this pattern.
I feel like the fermenting (dating) that I have beenpracticing is very much a reflection of this. Two humans and their histories, families, traumas, dreams, microbiomes coming together for a varying degree of intention and mindfulness to entwine. Share. Mingle. And start the birth and death cycle that is required for a long-term loving relationship to be birthed.
We each come with the culmination of our own experiences,cultural upbringing, pains, sorrows, dreams and expectations. When we choose toshare time together, create experiences together, hug, kiss, cook and live, we begin the process of relating. We cannot be untouched or not disturbed by this process. We are DIFFERENT. We cannot remain static or the same. Even though as humans we try… When I have tears, or when he feels safe. We learn to trust. We learn to relax. We learn new skills and create memories together. This orients us differently. Our center begins to shift.
I read recently that our microbiomes begin to change as wekiss, sleep and touch our people. Which makes sense. We are inoculated by those we love. I LOVE this notion and consideration and take this responsibility seriously. I am someone who focuses on my health and my own microbiome. I want to give another the BEST of me and all my critters. The other side of that coin is recognizing
… what is this person bringing to the microbial heap of my body? Are they being mindful and considerate? Are they inoculating me with what feels supportive loving and kind?
There is a notion that when you go out into the forest, youshould “LEAVE NO TRACE”. Meaning, pick up your garbage fool! But I heard it said once that we always leave a trace… our walking pushes down grass. Our breath deposits carbon. Our energy and mood leaves impression. Relating and intimacy seems this way too. Where two people come together in this fermenting process,
no one person can be untouched. Every kiss I shared with his sweet face, offered him parts of me that cannot be taken back. That were unique to the two of us together.
So…. How can this be more mindful, meaningful or intentional?What is my role here? We are not STATIC beings… we are organic. Always, growing changing and morphing. Why would we want to stunt this process?
I want to leave a trace… every where I go! I want humans andnonhumans to have a healthy, loving and kind dose of “Mandy”. I want to have impact, be remembered and leave the (person, place, event) better than when I found it.
I choose to be different with each experience. I choose to allow space, movement and flow. Not just when it feels good but more so when it breaks me open and allows for a richer more Holy way to live. I am grateful for this human. I am grateful for his inoculations whether he was aware of them or
not. I am grateful for the insights and purity of his sharing. I am grateful of his uncertainties and willingness to not know. I am grateful for his ability to have hard conversations, not run and in fact stay… with such a steadiness. He allowed me to trust differently. He invited me to soften my own edges and re write my own patterns. Traumas. Story.
I dont know what his experience was fully or if he has even asked himself this. But I know and trust that the LOVE and respect shared between us will continue to serve the ongoing breakdown and composting as we both move forward in our unique lives. That the legacy of how we were and showed up together will continue to inform the future of the SOILS we tend in our lives and loves of future
Isn’t that what composting is all about? The co creation of LIFE, LIVED, together ? and the end result…. Is something so much richer and more HOLY because we both allowed transformation and change. What I share from my basket to yours and yours to mine. It is a legacy gift
Soooo with my poor raw heart and what feels like neverending well of sadness… today, I am grateful for these understandings
