Week 14 of Brahmicharya
This post is dedicated to Bjork. She is brilliant. There is no other like her. How did she become this way? I think this song says it all:
As much as I definitely enjoy solitude
I wouldn’t mind perhaps
Spending little time with you
Sometimes
Sometimes
Possibly maybe probably love
Possibly maybe probably love
She spends so much time on her own that she has gotten to know herself. When you no longer have your true love interest around, there are no distractions and you have no choice but to face the spirit within. And when you do, you find out all kinds of things – both positive and negative. The positive is that my creativity is starting to emerge in a new way. If I had a man and children to tend, there would be very little time for this self actualization.
At the moment I am what people call “single.” That means I sleep alone. My bank accounts are my own. I am not supporting anyone but myself. Am I living my life alone?
No.
I have more people in my life now than I did when I was in “Coupledom,” placing all my eggs are in one person’s basket. My emotional, financial, sexual needs were all invested in this one person.
When the world needed to propagate more babies, this business model was sound. Did it lead to happiness? Sometimes. Did it lead to misery? Sometimes. The point is that this business model is not one-size-fits-all, yet it is forced down our throats as the only way to live via religion, advertising and our family tradition.
I am 34 and after extensive travel, a series of what people call “failed” relationships, and studying economics with Hazel Henderson, I understand that there are many more business models one can adopt for his or her lifestyle. And given that the planet’s population has pretty much hit maximum capacity, new business models are imperative for our sanity.
There are 6 billion people on the planet. To say that any of us are “single” is clearly untrue.
To choose just one person to spend all of our lives with seems insane. You stop the flow of inspiration and ideas. So, I am letting them flow. For example, the German texted me to go to lunch. The preppy clean tech investor asked me to dinner. They will provide new inspiration and ideas. Since I have no romantic interest in these men, couldn’t I continue accessing this flow of ideas even while I am with my soul mate? Hmmmm…
Last night when I awakened at 2am, I wished I had my soul mate to put his arms around me. Touch my skin. Hug me. I haven’t had any affection in ages. Even when my gay boyfriend was here, we respected each other’s space.
This is the simplicity I crave with my soul mate. Our careers and everything else cease to matter when we are in each other’s arms.
The German was interesting. Has nice eyes. A nice face. Teeth kind of jacked. But he is German. He used to work for the German government. He is working for the World Bank with a mission to alleviate poverty. He has been here 1.5 years and lives in Logan Circle.
We have good conversation. We eat mediocre food. As I walk back to my office I find myself talking to my soul mate as if his spirit is hovering somewhere close. Maybe he is. Or maybe he isn’t outside me. He is in my heart.
Still connected. Time nor space has dissolved my feelings for him. I love him truly.
As I continued my day at work, I listened to Bjork on Last.fm.
“Possibly…maybe…
As much as I definitely enjoy my solitude…I don’t mind spending a little time with you…sometimes.”
And it’s true. I do feel independent and happy on my own. I don’t NEED my soul mate anymore. I just want to spend time with him every once in a while. Does this mean I will return to Miami at the end of these 7 months?
I go to the hair salon to get red highlights in my hair. I read an article in Vogue Magazine about great American women and I feel inspired. I want to keep exploring myself and my capacity. I feel like I am expanding now because men are no longer my focus. I am free to be me.
My roommate gives me wine while she does my hair. She sends her boyfriend to the grocery store to buy us food to cook. We get home and it’s a festive dinner party. I tell her stories about my crazy experiences throughout my 20s. She tells me she has a sixth sense. Of course she does. This is why we connected.
I know, though, that we will not live together after August. We will be friends, but it will be important for us to have our own space after this initial living arrangement.
I talk to The Freedom Fighter before going to bed. He has anxiety about going to Spain. So I make him laugh. We are able to talk in a way I can never talk with my soul mate. And that’s OK. I don’t need to put all my eggs in a single basket. My soul mate serves a different purpose in my life…he keeps me humble.
I wait too long for the bus. I stop at the coffee shop. I get into the office at 10. There isn’t much for me to do today. But I do notice that as soon as I am standing on the corner across the street from my office, I start thinking of the things I need to do today. Going to an office helps my brain shift from home to work mode. Does this mean I just need to stay here? I do not want what I haven’t got. This is my mantra. I’ve already got my soul mate in my heart. So I will not force anything more. In a fit of happiness last night I emailed him that there is nothing better than seeing his name in my inbox. Then I started writing crappy song lyrics again…
You keep me humble
No one else has the formula
I’m so glad
Cuz now I know I’m still human
You broke my code
Done what no one else could
Stopped me in my tracks
Made me think before I act
I had this dream
I fell asleep in your arms
Fur warming our feet
Everything was quiet
We were dead while the world was alive
But then I woke up
U weren’t there
It was just a dream
Telling me to be free
I liked u so much I wanted to be u
Forgot who I was
A fairy morphing into a worm
But u wanted the opposite
U missed the original me
Who used to be free
Not an appendage of u and u and u
I just needed a boost
And a shove in the right direction
It wasn’t parallel 2 u
A perpendicular turn
That wrenched my heart
To a bloody pulp
Later that day I introduced myself to Shiva Rea.
“I never heard someone call herself an energy activist,” I say. “I’m the Miami Yogi and I work for a non profit that researches energy efficiency. What we do here with yoga is a metaphor for managing energy.”
Her face lights up. She is genuinely interested. I know I should probably stick around and make friends with her. But I don’t want to schmooze. I just wanted to plant a seed.
I am connected to her thru my teacher at Flow Yoga. And it is too soon to pitch. I need a presentation. A demo.
What’s my style?
Subliminal messages. Lots of words.
Fast? Slow? Fav music has always been drum and bass.
Why am I trying to sing? Or rap? Is it just for fun? Yes. Absolutely. It’s good artistic exercise. And good to listen to my own voice. This is part of getting to know ME.
Coming to DC has allowed me to expand personally. It is empowering me. I have been paying off my karmic debt, getting much needed space from people, enjoying new experiences and urban life…I am really thriving.
But I can’t get caught up in it. I still have Miami. As I was going through all my “junk mail,” I realized I could be posting these events and flyers to my various blogs. I could pay my employee to do this. Would it be worth it?
I meet the Sexy Activist at the bus stop to attend the Shiva Rea Yoga Class on the Mall to open up DCYogaWeek. She is 40. She is dating priest. She is in the making out stage of the courtship. I remember when I met my soul mate we talked about the phases of relationships and that they all follow the same course regardless of the partner. And we agreed that we both find this existence boring.
Since then we have both been exploring our alternatives. I know that I have no desire to restart the whole silly process with yet another man only to end up 40, less attractive and desperate to find the perfect mate.
I don’t need to. I’ve got the eggs that are left in my ovaries in multiple baskets. Yoga, my clients, my family, my soul mate, the Freedom Figther, swimming, art, the Southern Belle with a British Accent, my gay boyfriends….they are all fertilizing my eggs which are hatching into beautiful creations that don’t poop and cry.
As I practiced yoga in front of the Washington Monument, I thought maybe I will end up like a modern-day nun, which is essentially a yogi traveling the world to help make the world a better place.
But I need a boat. Not eco to fly. I need a nice boat to sail around the world. Maybe that’s what my soul mate and I will end up doing after August.