Saturday, May 3, 2003

To love and be loved.

To fully accept, and to feel fully accepted.

To gaze into the eyes of beauty, and to discover something amazing. The one doing the gazing looks with love from behind my eyes. And the true object of love lies behind your eyes. And the two are not different from each other.

The two are not different. The lover and the beloved. To love is merely to feel this truth. The deeper the love, the deeper the truth.

The two are not different. Who, then, am I? No longer the lover, I discover, I have become the love.

Just for a moment.

For a moment, I'm all right. There's nothing wrong with me after all. For a moment, I know that the seeds of change are already planted. For a moment, I need nothing. The moment is perfect all by itself.


During the daylight hours I have reasons why I do the things I do. Reasons why one way is better than the other, why now it's time for something new. Whether it's towards something or away from something, I have reasons. They keep me strong in my resolve, they help me make sense of it all.

But when twilight falls, when it's time to give a sideways glance as the fears creep along the walls, when it's no longer reason that makes the calls, sometimes I'm surprised at myself. Surprised at how much of the propaganda I believe, at how clever the spin doctors are in the attic of my mind. And surprised, most of all, at the power of my heart.

So don't believe me when my words sound all rational and thought out. Mere footprints in the sand; reasons aren't the motivation for the stroll along the shore.


The future, much like the past, is out of my control. All I have are my intentions and my will, which have often proven as turbulent as the winds they seek to harness on this great journey across the sea.

And yet, in spite of their capriciousness, my intentions serve as a rudder and my will as a sail, and these have great bearing on the future just as they owe their strength and efficacy to the past.


Karen has asked me not to tell her when I'll be arriving. She wants me to surprise her. I find it a little reassuring that she's feeling anxious. So am I.

Deciding to move in together right off would seem a little rushed, I admit. And upon learning that I haven't even seen her since she and her husband separated three months ago, you wouldn't be entirely unreasonable to question our judgment.

Please rest assured that most of the reasonable doubts, as well as many of the unreasonable ones, have been brought to light, discussed at length over the crackly static of a long distance call, and ultimately filed in the overflowing drawer labeled "Worth the Risk." We shall never have the luxury of being able to claim we didn't know what we were getting into.

And what, you might ask, are we getting into?

Well, literally, a house in the countryside of New England. Although I've never really been inside the house, nevertheless it stands as a symbol for all the changes that are happening: beginning a partnership with Karen; finally having a home base -- a place to hang my hat, so to speak, after floating for so long; and beginning to explore ideas about community and spiritual growth.

Partnership with Karen also includes Rowan, a 4 1/2 year old boy with tons of energy, strong on both the sweet and the sour, as well as Sage, a tiny girl who's doubled her age since I last saw her. I'm pretty excited (and not entirely unafraid) to find out where these two will take me in my search for peace and understanding.

Most of all, though, I'm excited about embarking on an adventure of the heart. Karen and I have had many different roles with each other in our relationship over the past ten years, and I fully expect that dynamism to continue into the future.

These are some of my intentions -- expressed through reason, and realized by force of will. Footprints in the sand.