Hello,
I awoke with Mr. Loneliness next to me, as usual lately. I said hello politely and got out of bed to make a cup of tea, feed the cats and think.
I left my marriage in its twelfth year, when we were both young at heart still, with small children. I went on to live with Jeff, the love of my life, who passed away a very short time later. My husband remarried and they have been together now longer than he and I were. We are cordial now, after the pain of raising our children in separate households, but not close.
I never got to experience that point in a marriage that all long time successful couples can tell you of: the sweetness of old love, the having gone through trials, difficulties and doubts, and coming out the other side to true companionship and lasting love. I'm sad about that, but still hopeful, ever hopeful. I will die hopeful, and that's not a bad thing.
I live in a biggish house alone on the beautiful south end of Lopez Island. I've tried internet dating, I've been in a few short relationships which didn't pan out. Some are still friends, for which I am grateful. I am not given to long bouts of self pity and I do know that the key to combating loneliness is not to fight it and to seek connection with what's right there: animals, trees and children, friends and art: whether it be good books or memorizing lines, or digging in the garden kind of art.
But I think something must be shifted from this living alone. Human companionship is key to my personal happiness. I enjoy and thrive on the simple daily connections between people. I love and need my alone time, but I have created quite a secure and discrete cocoon for myself here and it is not serving me well.
I have had experiences with "bad" roommates, and relationships gone sour. Pride and hurt have helped to isolate me now where I am: proud that I make enough money to be able to scrape by on my own, and fear that I might make another mistake and find myself hurting or being hurt again in the 'wrong relationship'.
I do not pretend to know what's next. I hope it is enough today to have woken up and acknowledged this and set it down. I want more meaningful connections and I know I must do my part. I daydream a lot about retirement: when I'm retired I can wear old clothes and volunteer more and be freer with my time, join the garden club, be on the water in my rowboat, get really involved with projects, see people more, etc. But then where will the money come from? I would need to downsize, have less need for money. I would, in short, need more meaningful connections with people, which I would like to nurture now, before this seeming myth of retirement.
Take my rowboat, for example. It sits in the backyard under a tarp. It is heavy and I don't have a trailer for it. It hasn't been in the water for a couple of years. I have spent time getting it painted and fixed up, but it needs more. At one time, some friends expressed interest in sharing it with me, but they live on the north end and were able to get a boat of their own. I miss them, and I miss the fact that I don't get out on the water. I feel like a failure in that department.
On the other hand, I do try. My friend Charley, says to look closely when you use the word "try". You either do it or you don't. Try to pick up the pebble. Either you do or you don't, you don't try. I'm not too sure I buy this completely, as putting energy in a direction, as I am doing right now, isn't success exactly, but progress: like trying to start a garden. You may get the dirt mixed and the seeds in, but then nothing comes up. You tried, didn't you? (witness my fear here of planting barren seeds!).
What should I do? I fight between the slow reality of life: needing to go to work and spend whole days there for the better part of each week and then needing to go home and do laundry, clean the space I live in, cook for myself, rest, only to get up and do it again and the growing need I have to share my life more. Instead I feel more insulated and isolated. My kids are grown and I don't connect with them daily, my dad is very old and I see him as often as possible, these are my closest loves, besides this silly old kitty who wants to sleep on top of my arms as I type this.
I count my blessings, all the time, there are many of them. I look for ways to be of service. I witness myself when I put myself down for failure or lack and work on reversing that thinking and seeing a larger picture, one that includes joy and acceptance, and most of all: Love.
Thanks for listening. We are all connected, it just takes the opening of our hearts to feel it and act on it.
Written with gratitude and hope on this new day...
Rosie
Hello Rosie,
ReplyDeleteRemember me? its been along time since we met, one week spent together at Brietenbush Hot springs in Oregon, probably summer of 2006. I had just been on the Klamath River Trip with Duncan.
It all seems such along time ago now, a beautiful memory of fun, laughter, tears and joy............ I hadnt realised that we had so much in common. for one, age, born january 49, and two , living alone.
I am pleased you shared this post, without your facebook nudge I would have been none the wiser and missed these words totally
Something here touched me, leaving me with the feeling to connect with you. I so loved that you were able to open your heart and express your loneliness in such a beautiful way. I too live on my own and used to wake daily, thinking oh no, here we go again, alone, always alone and having to do everything myself. Back then when I met you I was going through a particularly difficult time and so yearned to have a partner. Now my life has changed so much, I cant say its a social whirl, far from it, I spend many hours alone but somehow this peace and solitude has helped me to find a sweet harmony in life. And of course the transitioning from the fertile years into the Chrone realm took some getting used to.
My periods stopped when I was 59, quite late I think, and since then the changes, although quite slow (64 in Jan) have actually been very significant indeed. I had always had abundant energy and a real passion for life, so when I began to actually feel and see my real age coming to fruition I felt a real sense of loss. It has passed now, leaving me with a real sense of serenity and connectedness with something beyond this life and my energy levels are slowly returning............
I love that you took yourself off to Venice. This is a place that bas been on my mind lately too. I have travelled far and wide on my own and with friends, but i had always thought that I would visit Venice with someone whom I would share a deep love with and so have always struck this of my list and waiting for that special time, Now I am thinking that perhaps this may not he the case, that if I want to see this beautiful city then I might just have to see it by myself. We shall see................
Keep posting Rosie, so lovely to connect with you
much love
CAROL
I've heard that line about there is no trying only doing and felt the same skepticism as you. Reading your thoughts here, it occurred to me that trying implies some desire and that Buddha says desire is the root of all suffering. So maybe what Charley is warning about is wanting to be doing something that you aren't doing.
ReplyDeleteHee hee. I think I've got a couple of "rowboats" lying around in my life. I like that image as a metaphor. A vehicle that sits covered in the backyard. It could take you somewhere, if only…
ReplyDeleteThe if only demon! Like a dragon lurking in the dark. I always find that dragons guard the treasure, so if there's some way to make that dragon an ally…
Yes, the treasure. The treasure is a present. The present is now. Now is what is, which is not trying but being.
I guess "trying" is loaded with the potential for (or expectation of) failure, in my experience. It's too affiliated with the word "success" ("if at first you don't succeed…")
What is more helpful for me is practicing. I practice picking up pebbles. I like exploring, too. I explore picking up pebbles. If I'm feeling feisty, I might experiment. I experiment with picking up pebbles. Maybe it happens, maybe it doesn't. Rather than succeeding or failing, I have learned something.
Much love to you, dear Rosie. See you in January.