Tag Archives: being in love

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… where he’s at …

Shortly after I wrote that letter … responding to his approaches…
he wrote me to further explain who and where he was now.
(March 3, 2015 … nearly 9 years after I’d left Brasil.)

“Carol

I did not aged gracefully or for that matter i do not feel that i
deserve to be alive; in especial due to have fulfilled all my dreams;
i do have my sailboat were i am living in and planning to cross the
Northwest passage this summer and become the first brasilian
to do so alone; i was supposed to be happy and distant of the reality
of the world that do crumbles and stagger towards another gigantic
conflict and i am in part responsible for it ; i should had to be more
competent and killed many more iraks in especial from the
intelligence branches that today are the islamic state or isis;

No i am not giving me too much credit, i recognize that actions of
the usa and all other governments involved in the middle east,
afghan and iraq wars since the investments to crush the Soviet
invasion in afghanistan and later after the victory stopped with the
infra-structure build up giving chance to the ignorance of the taliban
to appear and succeed all the way to the twin towers;
Also the corruption and intelligence abandonment of the iraq gave
rise to the excrement’s that we see today with the beheadings and
burning’ s alive;
I, different of those governments assume my responsibility in not
doing enough to stop the madness that did come; I have no post-
traumatic stress disorder ,what I do have is a coherent responsibility
and I do not deny it or try to hide it under the carpet;
I did not watch the movie in question because I was there and do
not need fiction and propaganda in order to know what happened
in combat situations, in especial in the very specific relation that
snipers have with the war scenario due to loneliness and a need
to make god like decisions.

I did look you up again because of my knowledge and regret of what
happened with us when you were in brasil; I do apologize sincerely
for my actions and short comings as a man and as a human being;
I hope that you be well in Point Arena (look in my g+ the video of my
B-Day and see Point Arena in there) and loneliness for me is the best
thing; better alone than in a lousy company) .
I did made my choices and to be alone at this point
is the cherry on the cake .

Again all my best !

Alcir ”  

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… one month in …

Journal, January 31, 2006

“So much has passed this week, big ups, big downs, and I do my
best to take stock.  There are times when I literally write two lists,
positives and negatives, because I am so confused by him.

Today is a new day.  Hes’ UP, he’s moving, and maybe can I say it?
Excited.
Went for a walk last night… our Second evening walk… and I
mentioned why not go to NorCal and do a crop?  We could
buy a boat, doing that.
Also as we walked along the water at the Park, I say that I’m glad
we are too old to do the kid thing…
“Why?” he asks…”I would like to try one more time to do it right”…
and yes, I understand, I tell him, but then we’d just get caught up
in things to argue about , even more than now!
Then I bring up a Project, a Collaboration… and say
“This is what we do instead of a child”  and suggest that we do the
Life Story that he’s brought up so many times, that his life and the
telling is the most viable place to start.

So today he wants to start on it.    He’s washing clothes, organizing
closets….he’s Moving.  I tell him he has to open  his Faucets…
Let the Energy flow.
Money is Energy, open it up!  He’s started walking every 2 or 3 days,
and although he won’t let me walk with him, he is seeming more alive.
Cooking, Eating, Sex, he is into these, so there’s still hope… there’s
always hope, and when I came, I told myself I would stay until there
were no doubts, one way or the other.
Things can change instantly, they can!

The days merge into eachother, and all I can remember are the
issues, which perhaps is as it should be after all.  The progression,
the swings, the ups and downs, as we journey together on this path.

Each good day gives me hope that we are going somewhere together,
and can figure this thing out.”

 

—————————————

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… what is love?…

Ah the eternal question… n’est pas?

What is it that turns stable and sane people, who are
quite able to function and breeze over most of the big
bumps in life…
…into creatures who suddenly find themselves on a
rollercoaster of internal chemicals, unable to
think of much else, and behave like mindless
blubbering idiots?

“Love…an intense feeling of deep affection, a deep romantic
or sexual attachment to someone;
fondness, darling, passion,
to fancy, be fond of, or adore.”

Well!  that certainly covers a bit of territory.
Me thinks we need about 18 words for love, like the
Eskimo/Inuit with their many words for Snow…
(although Google tells me this is another myth, and that
the European Sami People are the ones with all the words)

No wonder we’re confused. Let’s try going deeper…

“1. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as
for a parent, child, or friend.”

or how bout…

“1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude
toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition
of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person
with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion
of sex and romance.
3. a. Sexual passion.
b. Sexual intercourse.
c. A love affair.”

And it goes on…and on…My Favorite is ….
“a Zero score in tennis.”
OK… now I’m even more confused.
Biologically, they say it’s all about Chemistry.
There are wonderful substances that release when we
‘fall in love’, and these create such pleasure in our brain
centers, it becomes a high very much like cocaine,
and apparently, just as addictive.
But that still doesn’t answer the Why of it…
Why do we ‘fall in love’ with only certain someones…?

For me, I know that I was programmed for it….let’s call it
Romantic Love.
I’m an American, and between the old fairy tales, Disney,
and Hollywood… well, there ya go.

I was also somewhat sheltered, raised on myths, prone to
fantasy, and innocent in the most wholesome way.
I have grown wise to the world, but I am still a fool
when it comes to Love.

But I Do know the difference between “Being in Love”, which
is the Romantic equivalent of idiotic infatuation, and Real Love.
And I don’t think Anyone outgrows the ability to fall in love,
at least for a little while.
Out of mind would be the appropriate phrase.

But as time passes, if you have some genuine aspects there
that hold your interest and continue the attachments, you begin
to have Real Love, which is this deep and abiding feeling of tender
appreciation and attachment,  plus an admiration for parts of
a person, even though you are well aware of their
shortcomings and rotten parts.

This is very different from the first, and much more satisfying.
It is at this phase that you might actually find someone
you can stay with.

Well…?  don’t you honestly in your heart of hearts finally
somewhere believe there is a Someone for you, a someone
that was predestined to find you, or you them,
…someone who will be the mirror to your disposition and the
puzzle piece you’ve been waiting for…
…the perfect fit sexually, of course…..as well as
Someone who will appreciate the little parts of you that
others might find strange and irritating…
…and it really helps if that someone also Real Loves You…

Oh, the Right one will not only Get it, they will Enjoy it…
Relish it, Savor those eccentric, delightful parts of you, that
you Know are wonderful and shareable… and just a little weird.

Come on … admit it.  Even the cynics, the disheartened,
the broken hearted, and the most world weary amongst us…

I am willing to bet that down in the heart of your beaten up little
heart, is that soft little core, that childishly, purely as a child,
sweetly as butterflies, believes there will be someone who will
Understand who we Really are, while also turning us on….

….to the point of mind bending ecstatic transformational
blending of two souls into one magnificent pulsating
glowing being….whilst allowing us to leave our bodies and
become one with the Universe…
…oh wait…am I aiming too high?

Come on…. it’s there, you know it…
otherwise, why would we keep on trying to find it?

I wonder, as I look clearly at it now, if I was up to the task.
I chose not only a Brazilian man, but also a genius…
a Revolutionary, free thinking, well educated wild man,
…who read all the classics while still a child, and dreamed
of being one of those heroes who changed the world.
A man who saw very early that Most of the present world
is basically bullshit, and way off course.
Someone who didn’t fit in, and never wanted to.
And someone who was punished
from day one for being who he was.

And with a primal spirit that chose a physique so enriched and
so blessed, as to be called Special….in the nicest way….

So able and blessed, that he believed on the one hand that
he was able to do Anything, while on the other hand having
been told he was bad, so bad he was not even worth a mother’s love.
Confused, torn, convoluted, lonely, cynical, and hopeful…
…and a complete Romantic.

Do I like challenges….ya think?

So what’s my deal?  And what have I learned from all of this,
this story that is still and yet half-told…?

One…. Sometimes Love is not enough.
Two…. we know not what the goal or outcome is, or might be.
Three… let go and let…(insert the name of whomever you choose
as your source of wisdom, life and trust.)
Oh, and don’t forget
Four…. shit happens, the Universe decides, and shit happens.
Stuff floats into life…and we call it, even if we deny it.

That, and making Art of Life… is my project, my path, and
my choice… deal with it, process it, and enrich Life itself.

And make your wishes known to the Universe, visualize what
you’d like, and then…..choose what comes…

 

 

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… the journal continues …

It seemed a continual pendulum swing, from highs to lows,
from close to push away, from together to alone, and
obviously that was what it was.
Why the mystery?  Onion layers…

Two people, old enough to know too much, to think they’ve
seen it all and enough more to sink a goat, now thinking
they can each transform themselves into the Fool stepping
into the Abyss, as he called it.  And why not?
What more was there to do, but complete the circle,
and begin again.

But new borns cry a lot.  They throw tantrems, they are
afraid.  Nothing makes any sense, and they want to be held
and rocked.
They want soothing songs and nonsense stories
to swim them into themselves, where being is
a Dolphin dance of knowing without words.

The Issues…….and the Methods…
She thought deeply on this one, because just now it seemed
like the “fight” wasn’t about the issues at all.  It was about
the style used to prove a point, about winning, about being right.
At least to her it was, and that was all she knew, of course,
like all of of, each of us.

Consider the life of the man.  Beaten as a young child by
both parents, isolating himself for protection, proving
himself again and again, yet the only answer he ever
got was from himself, like when the father threw him
into the ocean to teach him to swim.  Sinking to the bottom
revealed his abilities to hold his breath, and the complete
and utter joy he felt when he realized he was at last safe
and in his element.  Alone now seemed a strength.

And War.  Always at war with all  of it, but when the real
thing came with the Legion, he saw a path to rightousness,
recognition, and power.  He could be a true Hero.
He hadn’t figured on what it would do to his heart.

So fucking alone.. he was completely alone, wrought with
past cobwebs, ropes, the scars from war…the hardest fucking
plastic known to man wrapped around his heart.

Old ways are not set in concrete, but they Are set in neurons,
pathways, grooves so deep, so repetitiously run.
And new tracks can be near impossible to dig out.

 

________________________________

 

_______________________________-

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… reflections on a week …

Journal musings…. January  2006 in Rio

“You have to really Want this, for this to work,”  he says,
and the words echo through the convolutions of brain cells,
concentric circles from a center…. created by a leaden heart.

It felt so heavy.  All of it.  Sad….. Dark.

Confusion had set in, and too much thinking could be dangerous.
Yet to not-think was unthinkable…. Hmmmm.

She’d been given the front veranda upon which to sit, to get
away from him, from the constant TV, and his moods.
….which actually was quite remarkable, amazing really,
and she could view the wandering streets and flashing
cloud storms and island comings amidst the constant breezes
with a sort of detachment that she needed… desperately.

“This is My House”, he would announce to no one in particular,
at no particularly special moment…except
to her I guess, and the dog, and his Mother upstairs,
and to himself most of all.

His stubborn willfulness had served him well at one time,
most of his life more likely.  But now it felt like stacks of
concrete pillows, between the two bodies lying side by side.

Was she to be like the desolate dog, if you could call him a dog,
that was allotted two small spaces within which to eat, do his
duties, be quiet and cower.

He addressed him as “Get the Fuck….” as the poor wretch
jumped up, desperate for a touch, for tenderness… and the
man would cringe, because he hated the dog.
It was the most disturbing thing she’d witnessed so far, the
distain he held for this shit eating dog who had so thoroughly
disappointed him and his visions of what a dog should be.

Maybe the dog was just trying to clean up his jail cell,
she thought, maybe he’s really trying to be a good dog…

Was she to be the “other twin”, protruding from his ribs, ever
connected, never her own, never as large or as individuated?
“Be by my side” now had it’s double meaning.

Did he even begin to know how to let anyone in, even one
he claimed to love?  Was he even in control of the little door
that swung open and closed, daily…
There’s the light, and wait…. oh, and now it’s gone…

Did the most courageous man she’d ever known cower
at the possibility of real love?
For this was love becoming real, going far beyond the
fantasy he loved so well and could keep in control.
Beyond the heroes in books he’d emulated, the ones
who would run off to fight another dragon.

No pretense holding distance… This was so real it was
palpable, in the air and sifting like dust to the surfaces
of everything he touched in this cell he shared with her.

“I’m going over the Abyss”, he had sighed one morning,
a couple of days ago.
……………..”and do you know Why?”

She looked long and hard at his face, now miserable
with confusion, yet here he was, the little door opening
just a bit once again …

She motioned to herself…. and slowly he nodded,
…. sadly, tenuously, as though for that moment he had
risen out of his automatic self and was viewing it all
with clarity and a mildly puzzled perspective.

“What do I do?” …..

After a moment, her own answer came, as it always had,
since more years than she cared to remember.

“Jump and Trust…. that’s all you can do…….

“OK….”, he nodded, and it was done.

 

____________________

Aside by

It’s now Thursday, five days into my visit to Rio, to Alcir,
and we’re home, and he’s drinking.  I have never known
anyone who can drink like he can, and yes I know it’s a
bad sign, and yes I know Brasilians drink more beer than
any other country, and yes in that tropical heat, that half
frozen freezer stored refreshment cannot be beat, but…

This man has such high tolerance to everything, since
maybe birth, and so it’s a gift and a curse.  I have seen
him put away liter after liter, go to the store, buy eight
more, I drink one, he drinks the rest, and while he’s out
he’s done shots of Scotch at the local garage bar.

Yes, along those winding urban streets there are countless
bars in garages, little gatherings of men sitting on cheap
plastic chairs, smoking and bullshitting.  It’s a part of
Brasilian culture, the men just go out at night and drink.

So Thursday he drinks, we cuddle, he asks me not to
let him go, and then sneaks out when I fall asleep.
Friday there’s the usual hangovers, denials, and Mr
Bad Mood.  Sullen isolated shit head.
We go grocery shopping at the giant Mercado that we
usually walk to, sometimes holding hands, but this day
he drives us, because his elderly Aunt Maria needs to
go too.  He goes to a chair at one of the little mall stops,
and Maria and I go in with our separate carts and get
what we need.  She is not a happy person in general,
but when neither speaks the other’s language, it’s pretty
lonely.  She cooks, and I can’t even ask her about
ingredients or where something is.  And he’s back in the
mall drinking beer, and beginning to refer to
us as “you people”.    This does not bode well.

I’d so looked forward to getting out and shopping for
things, finding new fruits and vegetables, people watching,
and now he’s just mean and doesn’t want to be there.

When I’m in line, which is always endless… I mean, take
a book or some playing cards when you shop here…
he comes by long enough to load the cart up with beer,
and a big Scotch.  Oh, and I’m buying.
Of course I’m buying… I’m a rich American and I’ve
intruded upon his space, and I will pay.

Maria and I are now pretty much the same, in his eyes.
Irritating women who want something from him.
Never fall in love with a man who hates his Mother.

 

_____________________________________

… not even a week ….

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Here I Am…………

Trust.  What a word…. encompassing so much.  I have always
tried to Trust… people, intuition, feelings…..  it is something that
comes naturally to me, idiot that I am….and that precisely
is how I got myself into this conflagration…. the Fire in Rio…
a Fire of the Heart.

I come, hat, heart and lingerie in hand, sure of myself and the feelings that were put on ice for the year we were apart.
I was the Keeper of Love, but I have such bizarre assurance of
what I know and feel, that comes somehow from within…..

I go to Rio, I hold to that Feel that is US… Us… and oh my
what a feeling, a knowing, a fire that could blaze through all of our visions, and onward to a future that has no boundaries.

Have you ever been with someone who you Know you can do
Anything with?  I mean, the two of you are such a nuclear fission,
fusion, crashing of dreams and raw energies…  and somehow in
your heart you just know it is fate and it was agreed upon so long ago, that there was no way this prior agreement
cannot be fulfilled.

So Here I was, after nearly a year of waiting and holding and keeping close to him and the agreement… to return to Rio, be together, find a way to co-create our life, and learn just who
WE Are together…
For when two blend into one, a new Entity is created…

So it’s Morning, and our NewYears’Eve has turned to a dawn
of Reality, neither of us had dreamed of or imagined.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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Back but Not …

This blog started as a running commentary on Dating sites.
Then it went in a direction that was not planned, yet one
that was in the card catalogue…
You know… that thing that you know some day you will write about………Someday.

And then that Someday became a train that I hitched a ride on
for quite a while….

Time was,  it was Time to get off that train… for a while at least.

Perspective.   That is what matters in life.  And perspective
depends on your locale, no matter the Bardot, the Time Zone,
the Chakrah….

So here I am, listening to Brasilian Jazz for the first time
in a long time…
I have avoided it… I did not want to go back to it….
go Back to it, to the emotions that the music lead me to. 
For many years, I used Brasilian music of all sorts to
take me back to that magical place that I had attained with
this person who had come into my life. 
And now, for years, I have pushed all of it away….

It’s called Survival.  It’s called Healing…
It’s also called something … oh,
and Right Now as I write, Jobim has come on Pandora, the
station that will be my slave and play whatever mode I choose…
And like I said, I am allowing Brasil to re-enter my reality,
because… although it represents Him… it also represents
the culture that I fell in love with many years ago, and
opened such beauty and rhythms and sweet language sounds to me.

Please…. I am a girl from the sixties, and I loved those days
when Samba entered our culture, and became a part of Movies that
are Dated by the Samba notes that are played as Party background.
I mean, check out Peter Sellers, and an early film… “The Party”…
which, if you haven’t Seen it… oh you Must!
It’s one of his Best, and Samba and those times just envelope
the film. It was a heady, sweet and naïve time, before Reality
struck. I am so glad I got to be there… But…
I am a girl of the times, and all those notes, those feels
go straight to my soul and to my Netherparts as well…

So now Jobim … and his brilliance, his iconic purity…
reminds me that Brasil is more… so much More than Alcir and
all he happened to bring to me….. I fell in Love with Brasil,
and was lucky, privileged enough to really get a taste of a
culture that mesmerized me for so, so long.

So I guess I am saying a few things… I still love Brasil. 
I am still in love with the Music that falling in love with a
Brasilian took me to…. and now I seek to, on one note,
Separate one from the other, and on another level, Allow me
to feel some positivity towards finishing my story about
my love affair with Brasil, and with this crazy Brasilian
who really in all honesty, fucked me over big time…
whilst bringing what I wanted, which was a true real visceral
experience of uniting with this culture.

And yes, still, I feel there are things that need to be
confronted, completed, shared, and yes, even enjoyed,
before this tale is over.

OH… and ps… I am now Listening to DEAD MAN WALKING
soundtrack, and yes, You Alcir know what that means…

 

————————————————————–

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… the we of it …

The islands have always been good to me.
From the first breath I took when in 1987 I visited for
the first time…flowers suspended in moist clear air…
I knew I was home.  It was the Garden.

The body knew too, and health and peaceful days always
followed me there, even when Hurricane Iniki in 1992
included me, and devastated Kauai…. still it was all a gift.

This time, in the summer of 2005, was no different.
Things fell into place, and the inundation of nature only
proceeded to lead me to the core, to the very soul of my
existence, and my heart, mind and body followed.

By being on my own path, separating myself from the
attachment I was feeling for Alcir and our life together,
my vision cleared, and I knew what I wanted in my life
besides him.
I could see clearly what was him and what was me….
…and isn’t this something that is Always needed
in a relationship?
We All need our Man Cave, so to speak, and it needs to
be OK to want that, and to take that…. for Each of us.

There is no judgement here.  We each have our path, and
things we must do, promises to ourselves that we must keep.
The problem is our expectations, and our programming,
particularly when it comes to relationships.

We have been told that when you are in love, you blend,
merge, combine, and fall into roles that have worked for
millennia….  but is this truth?

Respect for self and other demands the together
AND the Apart…

And because of these histories, teachings, beliefs and
outdated roles, we are caught in guilt and confusion.
The options are not made clear to ourselves, or to society
as a whole, and so we bang our heads against these walls,
while trying against hope to fit between them.

When it doesn’t fit, doesn’t feel good, isn’t working like
we Think it should, it falls apart or blows up.
But shouldn’t we be Creating other ways of being with another?
And shouldn’t this creative endeavor be a Good Thing,
even a commendable one?

This is what I was thinking about, and had been thinking
about for many years.
And this is the gift that the islands gave to me….

Space to create anew…..

 

——————-

 

 

 

 

by

…the plan…

“I Love you for your Intelligence,
your Temperament,
the way you Carry yourself,
and your Elephant Memory.”

…what a lovely picture he paints of me today.

After seeing Ibicui, our vision of the future began to
formulate for both of us.
Our number one priority became Happiness, and once
we had seen what we could build upon, what we could
create living in peace, and with our love for eachother,
well, our ideas just fell into place.

“Journal, March 1, 2005

I am engaged. We proposed to eachother today, before we
went out to see the city…we have at last Said the Words,
taken the giant step of faith and truth.
We just can’t decide if I should be Carol Souza, or
he Alcir Williams…hahahaa!
He likes the sound of it, and the custom of incorporating
eachother’s names into the other is certainly
amusing at the least.

“I can’t believe it…I’m getting married again!”, he thrilled
to me.  “Are we going to Die together?
Is this going to be IT?”

We are going to get a place in Ibicui.  A place with a nice
big backyard.
He will get a little boat, and run tours on the weekends.
His heaven!

He wants to make one of those big barbeques using a
trash can, and we can go to town, get big cashes of chicken
and beef, and have Barbeques in our backyard on the
weekends… and sell to the tourists and locals.

He can make soups, and I breads…
The tourists come every weekend, so there you have it.
I could even sell my jewelry from a cart on the beach.
Here, it’s all like the sixties, things easy and local,
and not all the regulations and limitations.

We can take foods to parties…
As well, we can scout around for things to Export …
On our trips we saw so many beautiful things that would
fill a container bound for the US.
Fantastic carvings, large ship models, little tables
and chairs sets…
Amazing precious hardwood chairs, the designs are
brilliant, and the exchange is so excellent right now.”

The ideas were immense, and flowing.  So many possibilities.

Journal continues…

“She shook her proverbial head, her mind reeling with
the truths of the moment.
Where had she been but four months ago?

Her birthday was a good, but sad relief from the efforts
of a year and a half of trying to make it work with the
son, out in the woods she loved.
A month of complete breakdown, sadness…and then
…the Dec 7th connection.

And now… to be married …the Fiancee…
the Intended…!
Still there were big questions for her,
especially regards the consumption of alcohol..

It was seeming that he would rather get wasted than make love…
over the past three weeks, she could likely count the
number of actual encounters on little over one hand, maybe…
this reality puzzled her… He was a sexy and sexual man.
And yet, it was not a priority, and getting Drunk was.

She had never known anyone who could drink the quantities
that he could, and every night.
If this was the reality ongoing, there would be trouble.

“Your drinking is your business…how it affects me
is My business.” she said.  ” I’m concerned with your health,
and that’s what really worries me.”

The problem for her was that she was already committed.
He was the man she had wanted, and no one would ever be able
to touch this place in her heart…

So it was a done deal.  The had to solve the quandary of
this terrible addiction that had hurt her so many times before…

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand… she did,
and all too well… it’s just that it was
a Now What…? situation.