Risking Everything...Giving Up Nothing

" If you don't risk anything, you risk even more." Erica Jong

Soon I'll be back in Boston. I'll be there to take the MTEL and possibly look at real estate with Em's friend Ross. The intention is to move to the area this summer. Before that can happen, I have to take and pass the MTEL (which scares me witless), find affordable housing (which will take a minor miracle), get financed for said housing (another miracle), sell my house and of course find a job. My life has always had challenges. When I gradually wrapped my mind around the notion to uproot, it came with much hesitation. I am after all, secure in job and home right now with more stability than I have ever known and I might add, more peace. But I hate living here in this place time has forgotten; my intellect stagnating. As for the job, it makes me feel useless. No man in my life. No drama. The bills are paid. When minior disasters strike, I don't have to look for spare change in the sofa to set things right. It's a comfy time. So why oh why am I upsetting the collard patch? I've asked myself that repeatedly. I've sought answers form the Higher Power. This morning, I think I came up with a wee bit of insight.

I have always had problems letting go. This may not seem like much of an epiphany to you out there dear Bloggers. But every major disaster which has come my way can be tied to this one truth. I still entertain thoughts of a man I met ten years ago. When I met Barry, I finally understood what a "Soul Mate" was. Every moment with this guy was bitter sweet because I knew in my heart of hearts that we would never be nothing more than friends. There came a time when we weren't even that. He severed our relationship the way you would put a faithful hunting dog to sleep and never look back. Even before the door closed on our relationship for the final time, I knew the relationship would come to an end and I tried to prepare myself by saying; remember the good times. There were plenty of those packed into the brief span of a year. We cooked together, visited his father's farm in Plum Branch South Carolina (I rode a tractor. Yippee), made gourmet meals, listened to music, watched him (a former corporate lawyer) lay a back yard of sod by himself, talked about everything, took trips together. He explained the superior qualities of Reidel crystal and taught me how to judge a good wine; explained how to make beer and showed me how to really take an interest in people. He was brilliant, cultured, unpretentious, patient and very complicated. He was Socrates and I was his muse. Yada yada yada. I don't know why it didn't work out. I've never gotten over him. He occupies a crowded space in my igloo of emotional morass which weighs me down like an anchor and ties me to a painful past, which is crowded with other experiences, not nearly as rewarding as that brief moment of happiness I knew with Barry. There is no space in that igloo for future joy because I can't seem to break free from the cozy familiarity of the past. It is a past which I have no doubt idealized beyond truth and reason. And what does any of this have to do with the Now? It has occurred to me that moving forward only happens with letting go of the past (Yeah, call me slow). A flower, so to speak cannot bloom if it's roots are constrained in a tiny pot and never fed.

I found in New England a place that 'feeds' my soul. It is there that I am the person I imagine myself to be but somehow after all these years have only come close to being. It is the 'secret' me that I am afraid to talk about for fear that someone will crush the dream I have of being me. My life, all our lives are a series of choices. I have always chosen Door Number 2; the safe booby prize. I didn't feel worthy enough to go for the Grand Slam. I don't know where that fear comes from. Other people look at me and see someone with talent and achievement. I see failure and inadequacy. But now I'm going for the Prize. I pray every day for guidance. I pray for open doors and smooth sailing. My heart shakes within me but I press on toward my goal. I press on in spite of the fear. At one of the Zona Rosa meetings I read a quote by an author (I don't remember who). She said, "Everything I've ever done, I was afraid. But I did it anyway."
To that I say , 'Oh hell yes."