I had a dream… No, really! I literally had a dream of an ex of mine; haven’t thought about him in years. I woke up thinking how very strange and random. Why would I all the sudden dream of a person who has been out of my life for at least 7-8 years?
So all day the next day I am driving around, doing my errands. I am working and writing and all day this sense has come over my body… As if I am there again. Back to that time and I am starting to feel as I felt and remember how open my heart was to this guy. How I was a dam of flooding emotions, acceptance, chances and well, stupidity. But good stupidity!
The one who would follow to the ends of the earth if it meant just one more kiss.
I have a really good friend who used to refer to this guy as cement head. My friend is a sports writer and this “cement head” was a hockey player. My friend had told me over and over not to fall for this guy. I used to get mad at him because although this “cement head” had broken my heart, I didn’t have a harsh thought of him or harsh word to say of him. I was so moved by my experience of him I didn’t date for close to three years after. All my close friends and family can attest to that.
And it wasn’t exactly the essence of him, but rather the way in which my heart opened in ways it had never experienced before. And I remember meeting men after that and being pursued but not one ounce of me was interested at all.
It was this open hearted experience that lured me into myself for three years, beginning the excavation process of finding that love in me. Because I thought to myself, if I can feel this for him, a person outside of me, then there must be a place in me that will make me feel the same way, without the outer dependence of someone else.
So in actuality, I owed this “cement head” a bit of credit for helping place me on a path that was leading me back to my heart.
Now somewhere, in the last four years I have gotten off that path here and there along the way; gotten lost. Forgot my heart and the times when I remembered it, closed off my heart.
In fact, there have been times through the harshness of the past four years and the path that I have been on, that I have forgotten I have a heart at all. Times when I wonder how I can feel so callous. So disconnected from the soft flesh of my own existence. Has there been pain? Yes. Devastation? Yes… Has there been enough to bury my heart forever? I don’t believe so.
I believe there is a time to heal. And sometimes during that healing process you have moments of numbness. There are choices that might even be considered mistakes and experiences that seem to deepen the wound. But sometimes, the wound is so far scabbed over that it needs to be reopened to be able to get out what has been trapped underneath.
Sometimes we live life upside down; judging every person and choice in black and white vision when no human being or touch by another could ever be black and white. So cut and dry. There is no such thing in the human existence. There is only us fooling ourselves in order to feel some security in believing we actually have control over matters of the heart.
So the day after my dream I allowed myself to walk down memory lane. Of a summer where I found myself with my arms and my heart wide open. Willing to show and give every part of myself; willing to leap into the unknown. Willing to fall… And even though I knew he would be leaving I took it one moment at a time. One touch at a time; one smile at a time; one tear at a time.
One of the fondest memories I hold.
I had a dream…
And this dream came to remind me to be still… and listen. Remember my heart, come back to my heart.
Reminding me to be open to the fool inside of me again… to not forget the possibility of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
And if I leap into the unknown and there is no soft landing or arms to catch me as I fall…
Maybe even hell to pay…
At least I have flown in that moment. The moment I leapt and left the safety of sure grounding behind me in order to follow my heart.