When they leave, it doesn't mean you lose. A contemplation on break-ups, winnings, and losings in love.

When they leave, it doesn't mean you lose.

 

You lose when you roll up the windows of your truth. When you pace paranoid in your own darkness, afraid that if they knew what was in there, they couldn't possibly be interested in staying.

You lose when you prioritize "keeping things easy" for them, over believing that your heart's real expression is worth the work of understanding.

You lose when getting them to stay becomes more important than how relaxed or happy or in-love you feel when you're with them.

You lose when you do all the work. When you process and coach and coax things into surviving. When you deny creative destruction. When you don't let what's sinking, sink, and you drown yourself in the process.

You lose when you decide stubbornly that if they don't stay, you're not staying. What about standing in the truth of your love, either way? What about saying "I'm not done here," without demands, without overextending. But with gentle knowing trust that it's okay to let love flow its natural desiring course. Vulnerable, and completely okay.

You lose when you've convinced yourself that you couldn't possibly do it without her, without him. Because you could. You can. The truth is, everyone eventually loses everyone. We all go home, to the Big Home, alone. Even the truest loves between two people are mortal. But the best loves help us remember the infinite love that's beyond us.

Which brings us to winning...

You win when you heed your intuition about what will make you happy in a healthy, expansive way, rather than clinging to the attachments of your heart. 

You win when you let the leaving happen honorably; no fake-outs or fold-ins. The true you stays true. 

You win when you respect yourself and your desire for capital L-love, rather than fearing the loss of a nice-and-easy Like.

You win when you trust that Love is infinite. That everyone, everyone, wants to give and receive Love. That there is really, truly always more Love to go around.

You win when you realize there's a spiritual love within your body, your being, your very sweet soul--and you can access it at any time. It's inconvenient for our hopes of a constant material expression of love from another, but it's still true. You Are Nothing But Love. And you win when you can tap into that truth, breathe in it, bathe and dance and sing and weep in it. That's the biggest win of all.

“Don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens - The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.” - John Steinbeck

Becoming Fire

It's the night before Independence Day and I'm in Colorado alone. I technically have a home waiting for me, but we all know how that goes--the things that wait we don't always want. I can feel my dreams screaming with urgency not to get off track, but to ride the train hard and fast as far as it will take me and at the cliff fly, let what wants to die, die--trust that the stuff of spirit floats.

Last year, this time, I was walking the streets of a small city in Maryland watching families gather on blankets, sharing mosquito spray, popcicles, beer. I remember keeping my eyes peeled for anyone, anyone at all who was also alone and ready to sweep me away from my terrible solitude. The ice-cream man gave me a free a bottle of water and his phone number. I never called. I sat cross-legged on the grass and watched the moon stand steady behind exploding fireworks. I prayed that I'd somehow recover, feel sane, happy even, given the chance to sit alone again watching the world explode.

Tonight I'm going out solo on an out-of-town friend's cruiser bike. I don't know what I'll find. But it's almost Independence Day, and no coincidence that I'm alone.

It's become clear over the year that the hidden gift of solitude is you only have to please yourself; let the most alive and fearless part of you choose what you really want to do, go do it.

Tonight, I want to feel something new; be out in the world, become fire.