I recently helped my partner finish packing up his place in Bushwick, where he lived for the last eight years with one of his best friends. It doesn’t take as long as I anticipate to pack and load the boxes, all of which are pure, unlabeled chaos. Nonetheless, his car loads easily and before I know it we’re standing under the sun, sweaty and winded, my eyes growing wet. This is the last time I’ll be in the Castlebraid parking lot with him. The end of an era is always a particularly emotional time for me, I suppose even if it’s not exactly mine to be emotional over. But in a sense, the end of his 8 year stint in Bushwick is the end of an era for us, too. No more slow cooked eggs and pour over coffee in his kitchen. No more baths (I only have a shower, and this is the real travesty). No more sleepy, cuddly mornings in his brightly lit room, the reaching of branches as our view. In all of these instances, I was unaware as they happened that it was the last time they would. *soft cry*
This place that is now no longer where my beloved resides is where we had our very first date, where he howled from his rooftop per my request, and first planted his lips on mine shortly thereafter. I was surprisingly pleased as I left our first meeting, a good first Hinge date? Wtf! It felt natural although electric and nervey. By the second date some days later, I was elated to see him again. We lied face to face in a warm, shady park kissing and sharing ourselves in a way I hadn’t ever experienced so quickly. After feeling his erection through my thin, red skirt, I knew I was in trouble. I’m in love.
Here we are (eternally now) almost a year later, and he’s moving back to his hometown in Connecticut to regroup. In this time, him and I traversed what may normally appear as rocky terrain for newly lovers. There’s been unemployment, health concerns (mental and otherwise), the usual neurosis of being alive and in partnership, and now a further move away from one another. I wouldn’t quite call it long distance, it’s only an hour train ride or drive, but it’s a bit longer and more annoying to get to than before. Navigating all of these “things” has been no walk in the park, but it absolutely has been a joyride. Even when I find myself annoyed by him, and at myself in relation to him, I remain enamored. And not just towards him, but the us we are creating. His spirit is the most patient, uplifting, and playful I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he teaches me so much about living and loving in the present, and my capacities to withstand and be with living and loving. We have curiously dug into the depths of our gore, grave by grave, and come out smiling through red eyes and wet faces. Laughing and laughing and laughing.
Life has its many ups which are followed by its downs; its irritants and wishful thinking’s—that it could be better if only [insert desire for things to be other than how they are here]. Before meeting my partner I asked the Universe for two things. I said I wanted a sexual revolution and unconventional relationships. Boy, did I get what I asked for. That’s the trick to asking for what you want, you want to know what you want, but you want it to be somewhat vague so the Universe can surprise you. And then once you get it, you have to decide each day if it is in fact what you want—just like all things in the living Universe, desires are subject to change and sometimes what we think we want isn’t. And sometimes what we think we want is what we want, and is also its own living, breathing entity with its own desires and needs.
I would be lying if I didn’t confess there are moments I consider throwing in the towel and going life alone as single Sam. It’s simpler this way; less stressful seemingly being with my own complexities without those of another human. But then I remember how all of these “things” (see: events that happen while alive to all of us at varying times) are just life’s things, and why wouldn’t we want to go through these “life things” together, instead of allowing them be the ground that tears us apart? Why retreat further into our narcissism—a spectrum we all exist on, giving aid to the myth that we’re better off alone, which only reinforces the falsity that we are safest when we wall our hearts off from those of others with all their neurosis, short-comings, failures, and even successes?
I want to be clear I am not implying that certain couples/relationships should not break up/end or divorce, certain ones absolutely should. And we need to consider the effects of what it means to live in a throw-away culture where we deserve everything we want, don’t tolerate what we don’t want, and demand all of it now. I’ve heard Esther Perel (psychoanalyst) put it, people in “good” relationships will leave these relationships, not because things are bad, but because things could ideally be better. And that’s the thing with ideals, they never end, because ideally everything can always be better.
There were times in my life I knew it was time to leave the relationship, sometimes for no other reason than a strong whim that wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m grateful I honored those instincts because the’ve never led me somewhere that doesn’t get me closer to what I want in life. And now I’m at a point where I want to build a culture of appreciation, with the world, myself, and with others, and it requires me to slow down and surrender my overly critical mind to be able to notice what is working.
I am reminded of a forgivingly insightful essay by Alain de Botton called, Why You Will Marry the Wrong Person. In it he says, “Compatibility is an achievement of love; it shouldn’t be it’s precondition.” With this in mind, I probably could’ve worked it out with a couple of my exes had we just communicated better or maybe done X instead of Y. Except we couldn’t have worked out—it simply wasn’t my time to be ready for the intimate depths I realize now I was yearning for. I was still too caught in the trap of being me without surrender. I was still too right. And everyone was else was still too wrong.
Being in an aligned, intimate relationship with someone who is capable of and wishes to co-create this experience with me has been revealing to say the least; of the most fascinating is just how flawed I am—and what a gift this has been to see (and be witnessed in)! Becoming aware of my own inflexibility, be it pertaining to compassion or forgiveness or what have you, is truly its own marvel as someone willing to face and improve upon, or at the very least accept these realizations. It’s as if he’s helped broaden my senses; become a mirror for so much of what I couldn’t yet perceive.
My partner told me recently he’s a difficult person to date, but I had to stop him there and remind him no one is easy to date. Myself included. In fact, “dating” may actually be the easiest part. It’s the truly getting to know someone—the building of life and sharing of goals as well as messes, that is not so easy. Intimacy is not easy—at least not in my mind, at least not all of the time. But to say it’s just hard, the beautiful gift of loving another and letting them love you, does it no justice either.
It’s not easy and it’s not hard. It’s not words. It’s red like blood as it touches oxygen from torn skin. It’s long nights in a warm bed with little sleep even though there are places to be in the morning. It’s saying hello and goodbye to someone who you both never want to change nor let go of, and who you would do anything to help become whoever they need to be, even if that being needs to move beyond you. Intimacy… the slow revealing of one to another met with the acceptance of oneself with another, which in turn helps us love ourselves as well as the beyond-ness of our individual, small existences—is IT.
I don’t know why we’re here (on Earth, now) exactly. But I know that relationships are the threads that keep any of it remotely functioning. And they are the most important achievements above money, fame, and wild blinding success—who we are being in relation to one another is the most important undertaking on Earth. And even if certain relationships don’t “last” which is to say: don’t stand the test of time (a rather narrow measuring stick if you ask me), how we transition or deescalate and/or choose to shut people out of our lives is as valuable as how we allow them in. Nothing on Earth is done perfectly, and it can all be done with care—with the other’s best interest at heart.
“We need to swap the Romantic view for a tragic (and at points comedic) awareness that every human will frustrate, anger, annoy, madden and disappoint us — and we will (without any malice) do the same to them. There can be no end to our sense of emptiness and incompleteness. But none of this is unusual or grounds for divorce. Choosing whom to commit ourselves to is merely a case of identifying which particular variety of suffering we would most like to sacrifice ourselves for.” - Alain de Botton
I am weary of the greater space that will be created between my partner and I, and I am making equal room to be inspired, too. Since our dawn we’ve never rushed too quickly into anything. Each (sometimes agonizing) step we’ve taken to expand our relationship has been at our own personalized pace, this new circumstance will be no different.
One day at a time the story of being in relationship (to ourselves, others, and the universe/god/gob) unfolds, every instance (no matter how mundane) offers new life and new death. It is both hard and easy, and it is neither because it is so much more than either of those words can convey. I am here, now, lucky and in love, and that is enough. I am surrendering to the unfolding mystery. I am learning that love is everywhere, all around and within, and it isn’t going anywhere. I think it’s just getting started.
Here is a post I wrote after mine and my partner’s first date. And here is another shortly thereafter. How sweet I am in all of my heart’s spinning. How tender to look back nearly a year ago to the words “What if it works out? Even for a time? Even just for now?” And here is now, and there was now then, and him and I still are. And we will always be, not because we know what is to come; when we will die, have children, marriage, part ways—who knows! We will always be because we were at all. In all of space and time at the very exact, precise moment(s) we decided to meet and stay meeting. I am so grateful. (And I extend this gratitude to all who have ever loved me and known me, whether we still speak or not. Every single character who’s entered my life has enriched it far greater than I could ever have imagined for myself—thank you thank you thank you).
ON MY MIND :)
I am offering this substack you are reading as a paid subscription! Go me! All of my writing will remain free and accessible, and if you want the extra’s (ie podcasts, ask/tell column, and upcoming workshop projects) consider the paid option! And/or, if you just like what I’m saying sometimes and wanna buy me a coffee, that’s also what the paid option is for. My goal is to continue with two solid pieces of writing/month, bi-weekly feels doable and good. Around the weekend they’ll be sent. All of this means I am further committing to my creative practice. Thank you for being here and helping me along this journey of mine.
This piece by Freddie deBoer titled No One is Kenough, and who is one of the more interesting writers I’m noticing lately, even if I don’t necessarily agree with all of their viewpoints. The piece I share of theirs here is a counter-perspective of the new Barbie movie, and it helped inspire me to write this piece.
Look, I know I said I wanna talk more about manifesting, but by that I mean to include how conflicted I feel about manifesting. Reading the work of Sophie Strand makes me question the “cult of self” and our conquest to be the most self-sufficient human possible at all times. She asks, “What does is mean to be well in a sick society?” She also offers as someone who has battled chronic, unhealed illness almost her whole life, “Health is the amount of joy you can feel in your relationships in the moment.” What if the majority of the health and wellness industry is mostly a topical delusion to keep us busy perfecting ourselves while the planet burns? What if wellness solely focused on the individual perpetuates the rugged individual narrative, rather than the truth of how we are all in a shared web of interconnectedness. And if the web is fucked, we’re all fucked no matter how glowing our skin looks, and how do we go about treating and engaging with ourselves in this fucked web?
Then again sometimes I think the web is not fucked—the web is the web and we are able to perceive the web how we choose—with awe or with terror, and likely oscillations of both. We are not the first humans to be worried over the end of the world (see: the bible, all of human history). There’s enough science now to back that mindset absolutely shapes how we perceive reality—just google it, there’s like 10,000 articles you could read. But what if the mindset that “I can get what I want” should always be in service to the collective? I’m not here to say what is absolute fact/truth, nor what is morally right or wrong regarding manifesting. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m exploring my own notion of it that leaves room for me to have enough (to be rooted from here), want more, be aware of scarcity and true inequity, and care about how all of this relates to the rest of the beings I share this world with. So stay tuned for that if that intrigues you—I learn as I go.
I can’t stop listening to near death experiences (NDE’s). There’s a spotify podcast called The Other Side (NDE) and I 10/10 recommend if you’d like to be unafraid to die. Ha.
Marlee Grace is offering a how to create your own paid substack and I think everyone should check it out! I believe their substack is paywalled, but it is absolutely worth it. Enjoy!
And here is a small mediation for you to try this week if you’re into it. Imagine you are not a body but a collection of rain droplets in whatever color you like—or maybe don’t like. Imagine you can hover all throughout the galaxy as this floating, colorful droplet pile. What comes up? What comes down? And ya move it all around!
I love you, even when your shit stinks and you’re sad.
*soft cry* beautiful babe 🫶🏻