Tag Archives: love

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…the week passes…

After the meltdown over the nameless faceless poem, I go
through days of self doubt, questioning everything,
completely letting go of all sense of control, and begin
once again to face my fears.

I make two lists… pros and cons… and consider the good,
the bad, and the ugly of this relationship I work so hard to
maintain.   Am I trying too hard?
One obvious obstacle is distance.  Our lives are so different,
and that alone makes so much out of sync.
It takes will and determination to stay truly in touch, and on
the same wave length, and it has to come from both sides.

Meanwhile, his reality revolved around a sick and aging Aunt,
who he was feeling very responsible for, and the next time
I called him, he’d had little sleep in four days.
Exhaustion and frustration led him to vent at me for
doubting him…  a bunch of rage came at me.

It seems the poem was something he wrote to Me….
before I ever even Came to Brasil… it was his alter self,
fearing all his feelings would culminate in nothing at all,
with my never showing up, and he would be
left with pain and sorrow.
“You Didn’t Come…”

That was the poem, after all.  And why didn’t he Tell me this?
I have no idea. Was he embarrassed to show his fears?
So I had been allowed to stew away, and for some reason
he had felt the need to test me, I guess…

Not much was really said, and all I could do was to
leave him with…”well…call me when you feel like talking.”

Finally, days later, he left a message at my friend’s saying
“I want to talk with you”, and so once again I called.

“I trust No one,” he tells me.
“I have been alone all my life…
This is the first time in my life that I feel like I could
be with someone that is an Equal.

“I am never away from you…
but then you know, if this thing doesn’t work out,
well, I can get another woman…
…maybe not one of the Caliber of you…
but…I can do that”

He gives, and he takes away…

He was drinking bloody marys, relaxing after the Aunt
had finally gotten better and come home from the hospital.

“I think I’m going to have to bury the bitch” he says…
which means he knows he has to stay and take care of her.
“I just keep seeing my Grandmother cringing.”

His Grandmother had been the one person who loved and
cared for him, and it seems that Aunt Maria and she were….
… Companions.
She had been younger, and the Grandmother and
Grandfather adopted her, and gave her a new life, after
living in complete and utter poverty as a child.

Grandma and she were life companions from there forward,
and I guess Grandpa loved Grandma so much, he went along
with it.  An interesting twist in an already convoluted family…

So when Grandma died, Aunt Maria was just Aunt Maria….
she’d been there many many years, and was part of the family.
She had all of Grandma’s dishes, linens, and kept her altar
with all the sacred icons set up in a closet in her house,
which I was privileged to see.
They still cooked with Grandma’s pots, even though they were
old beat up Aluminum,  scratched and poisoning the food…

She and Alcir had Grandma as this huge and mutual bond
together, and it was the mainstay of their relationship.
The rest of it was quite adversarial, competitive, and
they just loved to argue….constantly.
In some ways, it was as though they were siblings…

They would fight over Grandmas things too…even the
little glass dishes, and the forks that kept going back
and forth between kitchens.

Then he made it clear that he wanted me to come back to Brasil….
but while letting him know I planned to, and soon,
I now had commitments and plans, and also needed to
make money for the next ticket…. he certainly
wasn’t offering to pay for it…

“I’m not a very nice person when I don’t drink,” he complained….
“This is me…. you know this me….
I am still here, but I’m trapped inside this shell of a looser….
I want MYSELF back!”

…and then he added one last touching thing…
“I want to remake myself from what’s inside you!”

 

 

by

…june 13 2005…

Today I face my fears.  Today I face creating money,
being on my own, not knowing what the future holds,
and liking what I have created for myself.

Go towards what opens, leave what closes….

Journal…
Last nite after talking with Alcir, I went on his writers’ site
as he had asked… he thought a virus had perhaps affected it…

And there… 4/26/05…. is a new “erotic poem”.  And
what am i to assume?
Is it about me?  how can it be?  Is it about Her…
…whichever her it might be?

How am I to know?  Yet the title is in Portuguese, and it
will not translate for me, and it seems like it’s either
“You Did Not Come”… or “Don’t  Come”…

It’s some sad poem that talks about never her,
not showing up at all, and never knowing his Love…
but something about not coming…. and
one could easily take that in several ways.

I call him…..  I am confused, as well as potentially angry and jealous.

About all he could offer me was to ask me if I was jealous…
He seems unwilling to give a straight answer, and unable
to just Talk about Anything…
There is no explanation, resolution, or sense made of any of it.

I am left with something akin to everything else right now….
Nothing is sure, and It’s all up to me.

Then I watch a film and I take down a quote…
“God is the principle of simplicity and unity that seems to be
underneath all the complexity at the surface of things.”

I like what i hear…..

…and this is from a group of top scientists and theologians
that had gathered in order to redefine God for the 21st century,
bringing spiritual and scientific value into greater harmony.

and then the Journal …

“She let him go.  He was an aquarian after all…. and what is
anything without freedom…”

This terrible letting go engulfed her, and she realized that
was all she could do.  Let go with Love… because that was
still there with all its prickly holdings.
But letting go of any semblance of Control was the only
path there for her.  It was the high road for both.

Somehow she got in this place, the place of releasing
him and herself from any expectations or obligations…
and then serendipity came along,
and this song kept on going round and round….
..and it was in an Angelina Jolie film she watched,
and it spoke the truth… and as tears fell, she
stood on its ground at that moment.

Love Song

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Home again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Whole again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

And for a Sexier Version… a newer cover by Adelle…

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am young again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am fun again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Free again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Clean again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

 

 

by

…moving along…

On to my next adventure!  It’s time to move to my new
place, and be alone for the first time in three weeks….
something I really enjoy.

I pack lightly, a friend will drive my things to the other
side of the island in a day or two, as weight restrictions
on these interisland flights are limiting.
My friend J meets me, decked out in Fedora and string
tie, looking all island glam, and we pick up where we left
off years ago.  Real friends are like that, aren’t they?

His wife E is on the mainland for a few days, so he and I play
catchup, and he shows me His island life.  The music he shares
is so uplifting and inspirational, very broad based and hip.

Here’s one of his Very Favorites… between Jazz, Classic Rock,
and Alternative stuff I’d never heard, this was the One he
played the most of…
Such an Uplifting Message!


They are staying in a gorgeous, huge place, in the middle of
a papaya farm, with jungle views and distant blues…
They go swimming every day!

He drives his van around the coolest spots, where we swim
in the little lagoons and find the hidden lava pools, where
families gather to embrace the sparkling blue energies from
deep within the island hollows.

We go to a hula show, a Real one at a small bar, with several
members of the same family, all different ages, and the
sweetest voices ever.
My friend has this beautiful awakening to Hawaiian music
and hula, actually grokking its essence and spirituality.
He’s higher than the clouds now, and we are both blissed out.

Alcir called several times, drunk and bummed out about his boat…
or should I say his Not Boat.
One time he’s happy, the next very sad… and what he calls
“Drunk as a Skunk”.
I feel strangely distant, and find myself gaining perspectives
on some of it… at least on the bi-polar aspects of his world.

Journal… Thurs June 9, 2005

“I just begin wondering if it will ever work out.  It all seems so
far away, and he doesn’t seem to be able to break out of his
web of restraints.
I must go on alone, and let things open for me, set up a future
that has no definition.  Shit… I thought alone was done for.
This whole thing seems a little cruel.”

“Can I deal with a drunk who does drugs, hates his mother,
has few friends and major regrets about his life?  That’s a lot.

When he’s straight, he’s Aquarian, cool, controlled, serious
and thought provoking.  He’s brilliant and very sane.

When he’s drunk, he’s funny… then progresses to morbidly
sad and focuses on my ass.  Not really appealing. ”

On Sunday, I will go to the housesitting place, get introduced to
the scene there in Pahoa, and get to know the little animal folk
I will be living with.
The woman will be there a couple days, and then leave for
many weeks.  I’m excited!

 

 

by

…boat dreams…

She watched the sea, a still, steel blue calm of a background
to dry golden hills.  Hills that brought back days of sonoma
and chatsworth, the SoCal days.

What a strange time in her life, a time of throwing herself
to the wind literally.  A kite without a string.
Exhilarating and terrifying.
She longed for her man, the male counterpart she’d
waited for, for so long… in general, yes, but
also quite specifically.
She’d called him this morning, and he’d been napping…

“Oh, I hate it when someone takes me out of my dream.
When I go to sleep, I always think I may dream of my boat.
And when I do, and a call takes me away…”

“Well….Sorry!” she mocked…
She knew it wasn’t just that way with her call…

“Oh Nooo…but to trade a dream for a dream, that’s ok…”
he soothed, coming more into the present.

“So…you were dreaming of your boat?”

“Yes…. it was so goooood…”

The longing tide that crouched in her belly sang songs
of sun and warm skin.
Soft brown warm skin there for the touching.
She loved reaching out for him in the the night, and just
resting her fingertips against his borders.
The borders of him, inside him, him really there…

Now she could not succumb to it…… No..
The tide must rest, like some pacing tiger
in the closet of her heart…
Can’t come out yet, she thought….
……..or it will surely Eat me.

 

 

by

…the fight…

So now there were plans in place, the ticket was bought,
the house situation was settled, and she had only to finalize
a few things, and it was off to the Big Island…!

Meanwhile, on his end, he seemed to be having more than
several crises…

He tells her that he was sitting on his own steps, when three
guys came over and beat him up.  This obviously had some
sort of history, but she couldn’t quite get the story straight.
He was still drinking, wound up from the whole drama, and
said the guy was going to Die.  …. oh great.

It was a terrible night for her, and an anxious morning,
but she finally got him on the phone, and he hadn’t killed
anyone yet.  Oy!
He was very sad, but he’d gone to a boat show, and his
spirit was lifted somewhat from thinking about his boat.

Journal… May 9th

“So he went back and kicked the guy’s ass… a good whoopin’
he said.  His hand was sore, and he said he loved it when he
heard the ambulance coming for the guy.

He took someone along, gave him his pistol, and after the
fight had started, after the guy was bleeding, the same two
sons who had joined in before, made moves to get into it.

So the guy with the pistol put it to the older brother’s head,
and let him know in no uncertain terms that he’d better just
step back, and leave it to the two of them.
And added that if anything more happened, there would be
serious consequences for him, his wife, his mother,
and all the rest of his family, friends and relations…
That seemed to cool them off, and it remained one on one,
the way it should be.
He said he felt a lot better after that….”

Geeeeeesh!  Men!  and Brasil!  He really has to get out of there.
Could their lives be any more Different right now?

All this did was to make her even more certain that he
needed to leave; and she, for now, needed the islands.

Fresh air, clean outdoor living, swims in the ocean with
the turtles, the farmers’ markets with fresh fruits and
vegetables, and friends who liked to live the way she did.

 

 

by

…a total review of the heart…

It was time to look at the big picture once again.
There were feelings, but just what were they?
Was she delusionary?  Spell bound?  Captivated?
Caught up in her own fantasy world?

How Long this had gone on, certainly lent a large piece to
this pie, and she looked back in time, to the beginnings,
to the feelings, to who she was and who he was.

Certainly in the very beginning, he caught her off guard.
He possessed aspects and abilities that he’d obviously honed
all his life, and confidence gleamed off his flanks.

A good looking man learns early that he has advantages over
more ordinary ones, and the whole dance of seduction comes
so easily, and quickly offers rewards.

Yes, he easily got her attention, and they say… if the fellow gets
to show her his act, that means she is already interested.
But such confidence from such a young fellow, someone
she’d just met, who had just walked into her home, aroused
a certain caution in her, and rightfully so…
And yet, as the curiosity peaked, so did the
red flags start to fly…

Curious would be the key word here.  At first mildly, then
progressively more intently….and as he unfolded his kit of
charming tricks, she began to be fascinated.

Still, caution took the lead, and there was this gnawing fear
attached to the fascination, and she held him at arms length
for over a week, looking askance at him, checking him out
in a way that kept him from knowing that he was, and
How he was,  being measured.

When at last she decided to let him in, the terror turned to a
thrill of the unknown but with great promise, and … well…
he didn’t let her down.

He made her laugh all the time.  He told her tales of slaying
dragons and rescuing maidens… His accent was adorable, and
we all know how much American girls love accents.
And he was more than a little bit dangerous, mysterious.
The love making was other worldly, and for both.
She could tell.

Now this last part was just a continuation of her love of bad boys.
She had always been a good girl, so it was only a natural attraction.
Early Brando and James Dean films clued her in to what more
convoluted characters might bring to the
Very Interesting table.

She’d checked out enough good guys to know that a goodly
percentage of them were boring as shit, and frequently
control freaks as well.

This guy was so different on so many fronts, and she knew that
she’d not only have fun… she’d learn a bunch.
And believe it or not, this was, and always has been,
a big priority in her life.

Their time together was brief, limited, coming in dashes
and spurts (no pun intended, unless you’d prefer it that way)
and the adrenalin highs and seratonin bliss Moments
solidified, for her,  into attachment.

Once he was gone, and she knew he was Gone, things quieted
down, but he never quite left.  There was always this haunting
feeling that he could show up at any moment, and although this
had certainly been reinforced by past actions, it was also backed
up with that Call from Brasil two years after their last meeting.

Completely off the wall, Completely unexpected, and
a Completely Perfect movie.
The mere fact that he’d kept her card and number,
even after being in the Legion… in the Iraqi war…
…oh, actions, my darlings, actions…

His words in that conversation… “I’ve never forgotten”..
and……” a time of peace in a life of war”…
and for her, the sweetest and best of all ……..
“it is not often that a man can find peace.”

By then, It all was Ink, Deep Under Skin.

Still, 18 years passed in all, 16 since their last melding, and
when they actually began courting eachother via internet
and phone, it somehow just picked up where it had been left,
and somehow just intensified.
It was 2004, yet There it was…….still…

They actually talked…for hours.  Bodies no longer interfered with conversation… it was their only means, and they used it well.

Being there… in Brasil… feeling the trueness of not just
the Chemistry, but
the Mind Melds… ..music, movies, jokes, attitudes,
twists and turns of thought… it was all there and more.

Sleeping next to him was pure Peace.  No other word…peace.
She was stepping into it fully, looking at it fully….
And it held up under scrutiny.

And after a month with him, after lots of reality and moods,
tests and turns…
still he was growing on her, in her, with her.

There just came a point where this thing…right here…
was something so unique, so beloved, and
there was No Way she was going to pass it up.

As she reviewed the phases and stages they’d gone through
together, she came to the conclusion that this was Real.

She’d seen a great deal of him, inside and out, and still
She loved him … she really did…
and in new and altogether deeper ways.

The unfolding stories of his life…  touched her heart.
She understood him, not all, but a lot, enough to know that
he was something so unique, so brave and beautiful.
And she wanted to understand him completely.

Yet the newness of him, every day, not only amused her…
…it gave her great hope.  He was ready to grow, to change.

The move from Romantic love to Real love… for her anyway…
was a genuine and trackable progress, and no, she could not
doubt its validity now, no matter how confusing it became
at certain times, no matter how many times he …. perhaps…
…tested her….

Now realize, this was just inside of her.
She had no Real idea of what he was Really feeling.

Because of his mood swings…. and we’ll talk about those later…
she wondered how this man could span such a dichotomy
of reports… from brilliant reflection to romantic insight,
to the most vile and hateful rhetoric….

He was trying, that was evident.
And it was not effortless…
that was also evident.

But the words… how could anyone say the Words that he
came up with sometimes….  How…?
without their being Real…

She trusted and prayed that she could believe in his Love…
for the expression of his love for her was beyond this realm…
it had a certain mark of eternity.

 

 

by

…making a move…

The weeks turned into months, with no solution.
She’d been living with a daughter, helping her settle into
a new house, but now the daughter was helping her, to
the point of exhaustion.  It was time to leave.

A direction was beckoning, with friends, work, and places
to stay…. Hawaii.  The tropics agreed with her.

She loved the way her skin felt after a day with sand and sea…
loved the shade she turned as the days turned to weeks.
The brilliant colors fed her eyes and inspired her to new
directions in her art.   It all made sense.
To just breathe…

Need Nothing…Desire Everything…Choose What Shows Up.

She liked that outlook.  OK…. the islands it would be.
As well, this would take the pressure off of him, leave him to
himself, without the pull of her needs, her emotional stress,
her questions.  Maybe that would allow him to relax and
figure out things, for he was still stuck.

He had vacillated continually, was often drunk when they
talked, frequently contradicting himself .
Getting away from all of this was just what she needed.
Taking action out of limbo land was the proper tack.

Her friend Eileen had an idea, and a good one.  A friend of hers
needed a house sitter for a month or two, there was a dog and
cat to watch, and perhaps even a car… a necessity on the big
island with its expanses.
The woman friend was nice enough at the onset, but seemed
intent on not only having her house and animals taken care of,
but also making money in the deal…
She wanted all her rent paid, and reneged on the car unless it
was rented at a separate rate.
Funny thing was, it became known that the woman received
most of her rent from government subsidies, only paying a small
amount herself.
This all began to feel uncomfortable, a certain used car salesman
aspect to an otherwise lovely adventure…
The Real funny thing was she went by one of those super cosmic
spiritual names, and did her very best to appear a super spiritual
gypsy, always dressing as if going to some reunion with
Swami Sensational and the Maha Rootietootie, and she was to be
their dancing girl, and crystal ball advisor.

Way too much jewelry, blackened Kole eyes, and … of course,
as it turned out… Pachouli.

… Goddess Beyondananda, she smiled to herself…..Perfect….

It became problematic at the onset, but eventually the woman
put away her sales talk about how special it was to be on the island,
and how lucky the girl would be, and realized she had the best deal
going to get a little bit of her rent paid, the amount she Actually
paid, and throw the car in the deal.
It would just be sitting there anyway!

She also knew very well that a great recommendation, a referral
with trust, and an animal person, was a priceless commodity.
There was just no other way for either of them.

She began to get excited.  Friends, places to go, nature everywhere,
a mellow dog for company, and her little monthly income covering
the basics.
She’d worked with Eileen before, so that might fit in as well… cool!

Now there were three things:  her stuff, her animals, and money.

The stuff got packed into storage.  The animals were to stay with the
daughter, and with her son in the woods.  The money came in…

As the time neared, Alcir seemed to be more receptive, even
leaning in as she pulled back… and isn’t that a typical response in
relationships?  the old dance of energies.

Journal…May 5, 2006

Alcir proposed on the phone tonite.  He said he wants to adopt
a black boy, to give one the advantages, to make up for the things
he’d done in war.  She thought that was sweet, and also knew that
tomorrow the thought would be replaced with another…
both curse and blessing with ADD…

“Do you know what I want?” he began.  “I want Peace.
I want to wake up every morning, and kiss you on the mouth,
and tell  you I love you.”
That made her smile…

He’s looking for a place in Ibicui… July is the goal.
“Sell your ticket…!  When are you coming?”…
But she says ‘no…you don’t have a place for me yet.’

Journal entry… May 7

She was scared…scared shitless.. scared beyond scared…
It was big…biggest…A change of life beyond what she’d ever
known, or imagined.
She drank Vodka tonics… she’d never drank like this.
And he?  He was a drunk.  The last two talks were impossible.

He couldn’t talk about reality at all… only bullshit.
His ups and downs were exhausting.

There were two things he said stuck in her mind, made her
laugh, and she noted them in her journal…

“I’m a mixture of Homer Simpson and Melvin Udall…
most men are…”  he said one night …
…”and I’m the only one who’ll admit it.”
She pictured Jack Nicholson in As Good as it Gets…

…and the best of all …

“I can never be someone else, because I will fail”

So it’s off to the healing balm of the islands, to clear the
mind and find center.

Maybe in a month or two, there will be a clearer path to him
and Brasil.  He had to find himself and his way, before he could
ever be fully with her, but she admitted to being eager to begin
this new chapter in their mutual life.

 

 

by

…ten days later…

She was feeling a little more like herself now, a bit more like
she was pulling her molecules together to become a whole,
after the presence of someone’s strong and compelling aura.
Like moving out of the influence of another planetary pull.
A month was a long long time….

Still fighting the bladder infection that had attacked her in
Brasil, her skin was hived and the body did its best to rid itself
of toxins by sweats and exhaustion.
Medications were in order…

Meanwhile, the questions just compounded themselves, one
upon another, and the more they stacked up, the more confusing
her future looked.  How could she even make plans for anything?

Every Two Days he changed his thoughts of how
this should proceed:
First… she was going back, as soon as her life was processed
and in order … and the house in Ibicui beckoned sweetly…

Then …he decided he would just get the hell out of Brasil,
and come to her and the States.  She loved that idea.

It was obvious he needed to leave that prison he resided in,
the place of his birth, with the presence of parents and all the
hated and hateful memories the place embodied…
…and all the negative habits and connections that were
so easy for him to fall back to…

He had loved it here… she could easily set up a life in her little
seaport of that NorCal coastal town… she was well established
there, lots of friends and contacts, and moving back was a dream
of hers anyway.   He could get back into diving, get his boat…

But then!… Now…. he has decided he needs to get a boat, and
sail here …and it will take time… two years maybe, he says!
What ?  Some sort of odyssey that he now must fulfill?
This was getting crazy making, and her head spun.

What his motivations were, how sound his thinking was, how
clear his mind…or unclear… was out of reach and unknowable.
She wondered if legalities, the wars, the extreme way the US
was behaving, what with Little Bush and the Terrorism Fiasco.
Maybe he was thinking he wouldn’t be able to get into the
US, with his past history in the Legion, and his
Revolutionary actions as a youth…

It seemed like he was loosing faith in all of it, and once she
was gone, it was like he slipped back into confused whirlpools
of old ghost shadows.
Of course he needed to do whatever he needed to do, and she
was quite willing to wait for his own personal resolutions…
But… things had become so unclear…

Journal, March 22…
“Two Years?  What the heck does that mean?  I feel he’s leaving
it all up to me, I feel like he’s not really done anything he said
he’d do… I don’t know how I feel about marriage anymore, as
now, from what he has said, I think he has been married several
times, and never divorced!

I have no idea what the truth is.  I feel manipulated again, and
I cannot allow that to happen.
I need to write clearly what I need to ask and say,  as my life
hangs in the balance… I literally cannot move left or right
until we have some sort of a plan. ”

She had been in a temporary situation when she’d found him, and
now that she was back, it was time to make a move of some sort.
But how could she decide, when all this hung in the balance?

She made a giant list of all the questions raging in her mind …
Basically she wanted the Plan… if he had one.  Something tangible.
When she’d left, he had told her his plans…

*We’d each find out information about marriages such as theirs.
*He’d stop drinking, swim everyday, and loose weight.
*He’d start to create a new way of thinking…

She spoke to him in her mind…
“I don’t see anything of this from you…. I feel like it’s now
all up to me…
You are thinking in the old way, stuck in a defeatist place,
in the toxic environment that you’re used to…
Has anything changed at all…?

I feel like You’re thinking like a LONER, and like,
I can come along if I want…
But you set no timeline, nor make any real commitment…
What has changed for you, since I left…?

I still feel you need to get out of there, to clear your mind…
I need you to meet me halfway, and think in new ways …

We could make money here, convert to Twice that in Brasilian
Reis, and buy our fantasy place, boat, whatever we want…

Three months is my limit to float and wait… beyond that I will
have to set up my own place here, and my income will go for that,
and not our future….

My entire life is on hold, in limbo, and completely confusing…

What do you want?  How do you want that to happen…and
Can you make a plan and hold to it?”

She waited for his answer… in whatever form it might come.

 

 

by

…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…

 

 

by

…ah, milton, angel…

Seller of dreams
I have the profession Traveler
the clerk who brings in baggage
life and repertoire of songs

And of hope
more stubborn than a child
I invade the rooms, the rooms
windows and hearts

Phrases I invent
they fly aimlessly in the wind
looking for place and time
where someone also wants to sing them

Seeing my dreams
and in return the faith walking
I have at the end of the trip
a stone path happy

So many years telling hitória
love the place I was born
many years singing my time
my people of faith I smile
many years of voice on the roads
so many dreams that I’ve lived