Walking Gives Me Answers
Today I’ll come out of retirement from writing about love. I’ll write about how the void almost took me out but not for long this time. I’ll write about how retirement is a way to pay very close attention, to attune to what is in front of you and not the projection of what you hoped for, and how leaving before it burns down saves you from complete destruction.
In the tower card in the tarot, you see the people jumping from the burning building. They don’t wait to die with the crumbling infrastructure, they take to the air and plummet into the unknown, unwilling to be struck by the flames lapping at their feet as the lighting strikes.
At the end of May 2023, I lost my mind after I stayed too long with love that tried but could never understand. I was prepared to go down with the storm. While I am a believer in everything being on time I also watched my mental health get to a point that was completely endangering my sincerity and continued time on Earth. That is what staying too long looks like and I made an unbreakable vow to myself that I would never stay too long again.
This commitment requires incredible levels of self-knowledge. It requires building a ladder with rungs built to hold my deepest shadows, my endless desires, and my fruitful hopes and dreams. A vow of great importance to never break. So when I started running out of ideas, felt my anxiety grow to new heights, and noticed the ebb of secure attachment fade I knew it was time to come back to myself, alone on the shore, in the car, in the city, in the big open world. Alone in the mountains.
By not writing about the love I had and the love I felt I was never confused about what was real and what was me being the dreamer that I am. Holding onto hopes of change, understanding, and most of all empathy. I never conflated passion with fact or lust with love. This is the result of continued dedication to healing codependency. I let a slow burn burn slowly and for this, I learned that I can stay in my own life and honor another’s. And when the burn started to flicker and the team couldn’t come together to bring the ball to the basket I knew it was time to lace up my shoes and find a new court. One I could practice on all my own. I can’t say that getting the “ick” majorly was a big part of healing too… but that’s another story for another time.
I have always been willing to work at love. To great lengths, I will go to fall deeper and let the vines climb the tower before we jump out. The leaves sweep through the windows and the stories of concrete to form an everlasting connection, and yet to be met with this same fervor is no easy feat. Finding the middle path between love addiction and having a cracked open heart has taken steady focused work. To see the difference has brought me to my knees. And from my knees, I rise knowing exactly what I need and deserve to be lit up inside my spirit. To be set free can be done in partnership or alone, but it must not be stifled by a blocked heart.
You can jump out when the lightning strikes, you don’t have to wait for the thing to go into the ground. The unchosen realm of love doesn’t have to last any longer than you want it to. The effort put in must be met, the effort must be matched, and the effort must be celebrated. There will be seasons, and there will be cracks in the foundation, but the laying of the bricks must be done in unison, with solos taken in collaboration.
After all of it, a house is just some wooden stakes, a ring, and a necklace - they are empty treasures when the meaning is conditional, a shared and beloved pet - really has one owner, and hurt … well, hurt people will truly go to lengths to hurt people. And I watched from afar as you hurt - and tried to hurt me.
May the leap from the top be swift.
