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Sunday, 24 May 2015

Losing My Religion


I never thought I could act this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feelings gone and I just can't get it back.

~ Gordon Lightfoot from If You Could Read My Mind
~ ~ ~
I'm a connector.
Events change us. Sometimes they chew us up and spit us out and sometimes we eat them up. Either way, there is consumption and a change in composition of the Self.
I was once told by someone I respected that I was the best person they had ever seen at reinventing themselves. I suppose in some curious, grotesque way that makes me a shape shifting chameleon of sorts. I've also been called resilient by another friend. These are people who see me from the outside. People who see the result.
Of course, I don't see myself as resilient or a chameleon. I see myself as... well... me. I'm just a guy negotiating the hurdles, pitfalls and cesspools of life while making my way toward the sunlit grassy meadow at the top of the mountain. What I have learned along the way is this... there is plenty to enjoy while I'm making my way up the jungle path. I see other people negotiating their path and intrinsically know they are making their way as best they can with what they know.
Sometimes that path is negotiated alone.
I've been alone before. This isn't new. It is, actually, my fallback position. Years ago after the break-ups of each of my long term relationships, I went into a self-imposed, catatonic haze, found a cave in which to conceal myself and avoided amour at all cost. I was licking my wounds. I was hiding out in the shadows. I was stumbling around in the dark looking for any crutch to hold me up. Eventually, I came back out into the light and started connecting again... usually after several years.
I am a connector, after all is said and done.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Been down one time
Been down two times
I'm never going back again
Feetwood Mac from Never Going Back Again
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So, what is different this time?
There came a time in my life, whether by victory over my own ego-created monsters or by the vagaries of growing older (or both), when my Self said to me, “I really don't care”. It matters not what my vocation may be. It matters not what car I drive. It matters not where I live. It matters not whether I have HBO or not. It matters not if people come to me or I go to them. It matters not whether I am alone or not.
My preference at this moment is to be alone, which wholly disregards my erstwhile religion of Connecting at all Cost. Yes, intimate connection was my religion. I would alter myself to kneel at the altar of alteration. (That would be the chameleon part.)
Let me make this point before slipping the noose around my neck. No-one did this to me. No-one pushed me off the windswept cliff. Not one previous partner drove me to some crackbrained state of anti-social worthlessness. No-one drove ole Dixie down. Anything that may have happened was me allowing it to happen. It was not some sundress clad, sword wielding anti-heroine cutting me off at the knees. Each and every one of those women I was fortunate enough to have as a partner are beautiful, strong and big-hearted. Every... single... one. End of story.
I have zero inclination to be with anyone.
I have every inclination to be.
This is by no means a reflection of what has come before and I have become much more confident in myself during my time alone. In fact, I owe those partners who have come before a debt of gratitude for showing me I am capable of anything (short of becoming pregnant which science is working on for some absurd reason). Because of their belief, I have come to believe it myself. I owe them thanks, not retaliation.
Alone doesn't mean lonely.
I have come to the realization that being alone (without partner) is not a curse. It can be a blessing. It's a place to heal. It's a place to view the self and determine what is important (to me). The difference this time, for me, is I am not in a cave. I'm not hiding in the shadows.
I have given up my religion of someone else making me whole. I have given up my religion of someone else making me happy. I have given up my religion of someone else saving me. I will do it (whatever “it” may be) alone. Will I fail? Maybe. And I will once again rise from the ashes as the Pheonix. (That would be the resilient part.) The only religion anyone ever needs is belief in themselves. The rest is fodder for academic discussion.
My religious need to be with a partner is gone...
And I just can't get it back...
And I feel no need to seek it out.

Namaste

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