Long, long ago a lover said to me:
"Loving you is like putting the wind in a box"
at the end of our torrid affair. That statement affected me deeply, with a sense of shame or disbelonging; if I couldn't figure out how to tame my wild windy heart, who would be able to love me? Would I, in my fickleness, be able to stand still long enough to allow it?
Many years later, I found myself coming full circle. This urging for freedom somehow, this need to spread my wings, to fly, let go, dance and soar and see where it takes me. This is in my blood. As another romance comes to an end- this one the most gentle, kind, loving and considerate breakup I have ever had the grace to experience- I looked into my lover's eyes as he began to articulate the same concept. I filled in for him:
"You mean, loving me is like trying to put the wind in a box."
"Yes! Exactly, and beautifully put!"
I had a momentary spasm of despair. Ah, still unloveable because I'm so much fire and air! Is that so?
Then, suddenly I was struck by a realization. Why is this something to be changed? Is it not a gift somehow, some way? No it does not fit the conventional notion of settling down, putting in roots, making babies and home life and so on. Perhaps I have been trying too hard to force myself into a role my soul does not want. I have fought and tried, cried and stretched and reached to the deepest parts of myself to find the way through so I could keep this love, learn to settle down and enjoy home life and that sort of domestic partnership.
My heart will not have it. The more I tried to force it, the more depressed I got. I felt flawed somehow, broken, because I could not come to a conclusion as to whether I felt I was capable of having babies; whether I was comfortable sacrificing so much of my creativity and time, my art and solitude which is required for such an undertaking.
What if I have been fighting what my soul IS, what my soul WANTS, all this time? Trying to learn to love in this way, learn to be loveable in this way. I am meant for other things. I like the freedom of wandering where I will, of deciding on a whim to change my entire afternoon on an adventure. I love being so close to community that I can touch them anytime, but have large amounts of sacred and romantic solitude that bring me bliss. Am I not a mother to many creative "children"? Are there not more to come? There are many ways to birth consciousness into the world. In our state of overpopulation, it is not necessary to birth love and peace in the way of more human beings. I can have a great impact on those already inhabiting this planet, in taking joy in the beautiful children of my friends.
I am not ruling children out. What has happened recently though gave me pause; my beautiful and wonderful partner, a man with an exquisitely open and generous heart, desires children in a clear and positive way. I cannot find that same clarity, as much as I love him and our connection. This issue of babies brings me great stress, sorrow and anguish. I still feel I have growing to do before they could be an option; at my age, that growing could very well outlast my reproductive years. And so I release him. My heart aches. It is a difficult decision, as I have never met anyone as suited to me as he. But I love him, and his happiness, and so I let him go. I wish for him that he finds a beautiful and wonderful partner who cannot imagine not having his babies with him, in cheerful messy chaos and noise. It is not for me.
I am doing what my ancestors could not, or did not- heal the rage and long abuse and sorrow in our line. So much pain handed down! The fear is- I heal this line, does it not need blood children to carry it on? I don't know, but I do know that each person who commits to healing further heals the planet, in enormous degrees. I want to see more children raised with non violence and compassion. I want to see more wanted babies, not those born by accident into stress, misgivings, or worse- violence and poverty.
I don't know what I am meant to do. It is more than just vet med and dancing, playing with my friends. I open my Self to whatever this is, so that I can find the peace that lies within knowing the true nature of the soul. Why is it I am so "flighty" and free? Why is it that on one hand, I can commit with an iron will, but desire freedom from shackles so much I cry with the pain of them? What freedom am I longing for? I want to know. I commit to knowing this.