You talk the talk, but can you walk the walk? By “you” in this scenario I mean me, and by walk the walk I mean live my truth. Can I live the truth about which I so frequently write? My answer is yes, but it will take practice. I’m not there yet. Is anyone ever really there? I hope so, someday. But not yet. I can recite endless mantras filling me with warm fuzzies when things are going smooth, when things are a-okay. But when it all hits the fan, my mantras are like balloons floating away, the ribbony strings just beyond my desperately grasping fingertips.
“Be the light. Be warmth, be serenity, bathe in the mind’s pool of positivity.”
It sounds so good. I was totally feeling it today, too. Up until about 3pm. At 3pm I was told by my ex that he had a new girlfriend. I’m talking about the love of my life-3 year relationship- met and fell in love in Europe and moved to be closer to him-ex. We technically separated a year ago, and yet the news came to me as gracefully as a punch to the stomach.
It was painful for obvious reasons.
But my mind made it more painful than it needed to be. Rational “Walk the Walk” Sara would have thought, Okay come on now, it’s been a year what did you expect…nothing will ever change the love you two shared and still share, nor will anything ever alter the beautiful memories you made. Everything happens for a reason, timing is everything, and you must trust the process. Send him light and love, and then drop it.
Rational “Walk the Walk” Sara is so wise. So centered. So together.
She was also not present today at 3pm.
So emotional, mind f*ck Sara stepped in to handle the situation.
With “I’m about to have tea with the Queen” enthusiasm, my mind began to take me down a torturous path. What is it about heartache that makes the mind so hellbent on torturing the heart? In reality the details don’t matter. The details change nothing. Our past is firmly rooted in the Universe and it happened exactly as it should. We are not together for reasons that are firmly rooted in the present. But my mind gave no cares. My mind replayed for me, as though I’d not been there for all of this, all of the memories and everything that was said before, during and after our break-up. I’ve dated people since, nothing serious and nothing that termed me anyone’s “girlfriend” (probably the most upsetting part), but that doesn’t matter to me. For some reason my mind has decided that him moving on is unacceptable. I knew it would happen eventually, and yet I also knew it would feel exactly like this when it did. My mind is convinced it’s because he told me he isn’t capable of giving more to a relationship than he gave to me and if he couldn’t make it work with me, the love of his life, then he’d never make it work with anyone else. And that he didn’t want to. Rational me believes those words, and knows that what we had was truly special and could have been it…we’d still be together if I’d not decided I need more…from the relationship, from my partner, from the commitment. The most rational part of all that is it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. He has a new girlfriend and even though it’s been a year it hurts. Even though I left the relationship it hurts. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we were still in love when we separated, choosing to part ways for more logical reasons like the relationship wasn’t allowing us to be our truest Selves anymore. But we were still in love. That seems so senseless, to leave a relationship still in love. I suppose that’s why the closure feels so suspended in space.
And still, it matters not. He’s moved on and so have I. It still hurts. My mind still wants to circle round ‘n round like a damn fair ride, pricking my heart with the needles of “he said” and the prodding of “but we said forever…”
The bottom line is this: I sat down this very morning and wrote about trusting the process. I said,
“It all happens for a reason. Everything we do, don’t do, everyone we meet, don’t meet, every place we go, don’t go…it’s all happening as it should be.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, trust the process.
May we open our hearts and our Awareness to the seemingly serendipitous, but oh so Divine and precise workings of the Universe, so that everyday may be a seamless wave of trust. Trust. Trust. Trust the process.”
Then at 3pm those words, those words that I feel to my very core…floated out of my grasp. Floated up into the sky like balloons, strings slipped from errant fingers, moving listlessly away, growing smaller and smaller.
Why would I let these words, my deepest personal conviction, slip through my fingers when I need them most? Because it’s easier said than done. Most worthwhile things are. Nothing worth having, I mean truly worth having, comes easy. Like a garden, it takes tending. Patience. Passion. Dedication.
“The mind can only hold one thought at a time. Make it a positive one,” my mom said to me tonight. She’s my rock. She also shook my intuition awake by saying,
“Where do all of your powerful mantras go when these things happen?”
She’s right. Where do they go? They’re still in me, but they’re silenced by that dark part of my mind that says, Oh this is too vulnerable a moment to pass up…let’s relive it all, shall we…
There’s something deeply and painfully satisfying about giving in and letting all of the aching memories play through the mind.
Letting the words and the “could have beens” play like a slideshow with audio, behind a veil of tears, it feels good. Good in a masochistic way. It’s so hard to deny the mind this pity party. It’s nearly impossible to say, no…I’m not going to go there…I’m going to rise above and realize that having all of those thoughts won’t make me feel better. They also won’t change my reality.
So, how does one actually implement all of those brilliant, pacifying mantras when struck with a tsunami of negativity? (Pardon my dramatic nature, it must be the moon).
I suppose, like yoga, like healthy eating, like mindful living, it takes practice. It would behoove me to not beat myself up over my reaction today, but rather to respond with gentleness, with kindness, with compassion. I’d be well advised to be understanding of my own heart, and of my masochistic little mind. It seems so satisfying to take that mental route down memory lane, taunting the heart with what might have been, but it turns out it’s just a dead end street. What about changing the channel of the mind right away?
Oh but it’s so much less satisfying! And therefore all the more necessary.
So tonight, as all the tears have dried and rationalism has taken over, I will recite my mantras. This is happening for a reason, as all things are, to teach me that I must get as good at walking the walk as I am at talking the talk. And when my mind wants to start in on the Oh great, Valentine’s Day is coming up and having all sorts of lovely mental images, I will remember this post. I will remember sitting here, at 12:14am, dry eyed, filled with clarity… slightly delirious, totally exhausted, and hellbent on getting this all in writing while it’s still raw.
I will remember this moment, this moment of feeling so intensely human…so not in control…so drained of emotion and left quiet, observing. I will remember feeling like I’ve been smacked on the knuckles with a ruler by some invisible grammar school nun for not having had the strength, the willingness, the ability to constrain my reaction today. I will remember the throbbing ache of compassion I felt for myself. The one I feel right now. I will remember that walking the walk is done in baby steps.
Three steps forward, two steps back.