“Let’s be honest, open and brave!”
“Soul on the Run” available everywhere (Balboa Press)
“I’ll talk to you later, my friend,” I said as I was pulling up to the front of my house. I’d been on a call with a man named Tony. We’d been getting to know one another for the last week or so through phone calls and a bit of texting. He was a nice man with an easy laugh who had just helped me with the purchase of some new tools at the big box home store. We’d had fun on the phone as we discussed my choices for 10-in-one screw drivers and combination packages of vise-grip and channel-lock pliers.
I sat there in my driveway looking out the car window contemplating the breeze-tossed trees as the word “friend” echoed in my head. The echo told me that I did not want to hear from Tony again. I knew he was interested in our just-starting relationship and wanted it to be more, but I didn’t. My wishful thinking that he might be “the man” had dropped into soul-honest clarity when I had spoken those words, “my friend.” In that moment I also knew that I was done with this long-held behavior of mine—I was not interested in the “search” anymore. As night began to fold around me, I understood that I had changed in a primal way. There was a sliding-into-place sense of wholeness within me—I was no longer “alone.” I was “all one” and I was at home with myself. I had become partially aware of this heart-change just the night before as I settled into the middle of the bed and realized I was totally comfortable sleeping alone.
The funny thing about changing on the inside—at least for me—is I don’t notice that I have been needing or wanting something at a deep level, until I no longer do. Then, the sense of relief and release that comes flowing into me tunes me into the fact that I have not been at peace, that I have been unsettled . . .