I used to think that having a soulmate meant something, but now I am beginning to think it means neurosis. The romantic notion of a miraculous, kinetic bond between two souls is intoxicating. I know what that feels like. There was a time in my life when I was passionately in love. I abandoned myself to an exhilarating romance that for some reason made me look over my shoulder. It induced a certain paranoia, like I was participating in something criminal. To be consumed in awe and wonderment of another human being felt dangerous. Over the years I have played it off as "love addiction", but now coming from a place of authenticity and curiosity, I ask what exactly was so wrong with that "I got your back" kinda love anyway? Other than that kind of vulnerability can leave me sobbing on the floor, wishing I could somehow trade that pain for something more tolerable. Say, a heard of elephants stampeding across my back.
Today felt like a endless match of emotional rugby. My whole day was saturated with reverberations of signs and signals in relation to last night’s date. I’m finding it hard to be objective. I feel the emotional love crazies bubbling up in my brain. They’re just festering, plotting and contemplating which absurd I idea I will act on next.
Date #6 and I met at a nice restaurant downtown. The caliber of his choice of where we should go for dinner definitely spoke to the fact that he was taking the date seriously. I on the other hand, was preparing for the worst. But date#6 was a truly interesting, solid, upstanding member of society. He’s 36 years old. He is an Ayurvedic Practitioner and and has been living in Santa Cruz for 12 years. He was born in Nepal and practices yoga. He has a masters degree in economics and he is thinking about going back to school to get a Masters in Business Administration. He loves school. I was pleasantly surprised. The conversation was engaging and we connected on some level. We enjoyed our meal and each others company. He asked what I wanted to do after dinner. I suggested walking around downtown. He gave me a surprised look and said, “I walk around San Francisco, but not Santa Cruz, it’s always the same.” Anyone that knows me, would understand that his remark was an affront to my city. It reminded me of an episode of “Sex and The City”, where Carrie sets Miranda up on a blind date with with a man obsessed with Manhattan. He makes a point to never leave the city and Miranda considered that freakish, New Yorker pride. Granted I am not against exploring and leaving Santa Cruz, but the affection I have for downtown is similar to what the episode was parodying. I asked him if he ever watched Sex and the City. To my surprise he had seen every single episode and owns them all on dvd. We walked outside and headed toward the wharf. What happened next challenges my temptation to believe in supernatural explanations conjured up in my mind. Even though part of me thinks I should treat every instance like an experiment stringently following the scientific method.
A few blocks into the walk he asked “Do you think Big was the right man for Carrie?. I was awestruck by the question because, lately (and for the last 10 years) I have considered whether the pain and struggle of romance will ever payoff in the end, or if it could be avoided all together by picking a healthy individual to participate with from the very begining. I paused, and with 100 percent certainty I said “yes”. He asked why? I said “because she was completely in love with him.” Every fiber of her being loved that man. She could never shake it. Their relationship was tumultuous, painful, pathetic at times but it was what pulled at her heartstrings. And in the end, I think we all found out that the feeling was mutual, even though it manifested in ways that often seemed to prove the contrary. Date#6 agreed, then concluded that they we destined to be married.
I said that marriage was just a piece of paper. That there were no guarantees. People change, their feelings fluctuate, and I couldn’t see how marriage was a anything more than a guaranteed opportunity for divorce. He made mention of soulmates. He said, “When you meet your soulmate, the next step is to move toward surrender. A full surrender.” I shuttered at the thought. What would that look like? To put trust and love into someone with blind faith. Especially since my experience with attraction has lead me to people who are labeled “unhealthy”.
My first soulmate was the man who evoked my passionate nature as I mentioned earlier. He brought out my best and my worst. On some level I felt that he loved me, whether he was willing to admit it or not. His name was Garp. At that time, I thought I could drag his true feelings for me out to the surface. I have this mental picture of trying to physically stretch the love right out of him, like silly putty. I thought if I pulled slow he would surrender and give in to my careful yet forceful drawing of his love toward me, without a snap. That was my hook. I had an uncanny ability to be attracted to men who could love me on the inside, but could never expose that love in a way that convinced me I was worth it. My question is, was that experience just carrying out the pattern of the neglect and abuse that infected me as a child? or was that connection between us something that could have been fostered if we were willing to be more present and vulnerable? Could I have waited longer until he came around? Would he ever have come around? I often wonder if I could have saved myself a lot of pain and strife by perhaps letting go entirely and chosen a different person to begin with.
“At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice.”
The thing is, I was powerless over the events that transpired between Garp and I. Regardless of the reason I was in love with him, the power it had over me was unstoppable. I would do anything for him. Including letting him go, even though the pain was excruciating. If what we had was true love, could I have behaved in any other way? It didn’t matter how much I intellectualized the relationship. In the end, I surrendered to the fact that I was head over heals in love with him. It made me do crazy things. I danced for him and his friends, we had sex in bar bathrooms, I married him in Vegas. I have contemplated the loss of that relationship for over a decade. My one regret was that I couldn’t find a way to stay in his life. The sense of loss and sadness I felt was insurmountable .
My therapist alludes to the existence of “healthy” relationships that might lead to a different outcome, but at this point I thinks she’s pulling my leg. I have suspicions that the individuals who would participate in such relationships are the Lochness Monsters of human emotional availability. In effort to steer myself toward discovering these believed mythical creatures, I have been trying to control where my desires lead me. Sometimes I just get so tired of calculating my motives. Deep down I don't believe in free will. I have trouble managing my impulses. I am pursuing a career in psychology and yet, I seem to be progressively falling victim to irrational thinking. Simply for the sake of romance. I have spent so many years trying to undo the hurt and learn ways to behave in a healthier manner. However the calling to read superstitiously into patterns and random events is so strong. I want control. I want to be safe.
They say love is a universal truth. So how come I feel so uncomfortable right now, my world feels upside down. I’m lonely. I want things to go the way I want them to. How can I love in a way that doesn't hurt? I slide down a scale of contrasting emotions; feeling scared, jaded, trusting, hopeless and unselfishly loving. I have no right answers. It has to exist, true love, it must. I feel like a little girl wondering if god will answer my prayers. I don’t believe in god, but I believe in love; at least I want to.
My heart is open right now but I’m feeling so much pain, it’s all consuming. I can’t think, I can’t concentrate. I feel overwhelmed. I feel vulnerable, fragile and scared that I’ll always be alone. All I crave is that connection. A true connection of wholeness and comfort. Where I can say I love you and have it said back. And I don’t want it from just anyone, I want if from my soulmate. I believe there is more than one. Even as I’m writing this I feel like I have entered some ridiculous loveless vortex of women in their thirties who become obsessed with being in the perfect relationship. Is that a myth? I’m so sad. No matter how I set it up, inevitably I come back to loneliness. I can’t let go. I cant let go of control.
“All of our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.”
This date triggered so many thoughts, concepts and emotions that the morning after, I was still in a haze of confusion inspired by our conversation concerning, marriage, commitment, true love, soulmates, surrender and vulnerability. I began writing about our date and visions of graphs, pictures and possibilities of how to organize my feelings came flooding into my consciousness. Our conversation challenged my fears and exposed how terrifying it is to admit that I am yearning for stable, secure, committed relationship. That morning I felt like I had cracked the code. I found a visual analogy, a logical explanation as to how a permanent commitment was possible. I even jumped up down and did a little victory dance in celebration of my new found hypothesis.
When the connection between two people is strong,
(a strong connection is defined as an eternal, mutual kinetic bond that is not dependent on life's circumstances)
A strong connection is represented by a clothesline secured between two points
(a point is defined as each person or each person’s soul)
A heavy blanket is folded in half over the clothesline.
Each person is designated one half of the blanket.
(The heavy blanket is defined as the “amount of surrender” by each person)
The bigger the blanket, the bigger the representation of vulnerability and surrender.
If the blanket is big enough, wide enough and long enough, at some point the proportion of the blanket (vulnerability and surrender) to the speed of the wind and gravity (challenges to the commitment and relationship), will reach a point where it is no longer physically possible for the wind to ever blow the blanket off the clothes line.
(i.e secure commitment)
size of blanket (width,height) = depth of each persons vulnerability and surrender
rate of the wind challenges to the commitment and relationship
In other words the greater the capacity for vulnerability in each person, the greater the chance of their marriage remaining intact. The two essential conditions are that 1) there must be a strong mutual connection and 2) they must at their core have willingness to change and evolve (this increases each persons own vulnerability and surrender and deepens their commitment).
Now granted that does not guarantee an outcome of “married forever” for everyone always. As the outcome is deprndent on the level of each persons capability of surrender. However it does allow for the possibility of plasticity, increasing the chances of physical presence in each others lives.
I keep looking over the picture of Garp and I on our wedding night standing in front of the counter, waiting for our marriage license in Las vegas. We will always have a connection. We were both too young and alcoholic to be capable of that kind of surrender, but the connection will never be severed.
I would like to thank all of my friends who helped me process this week’s date and material. I couldn't have done without your love and support. Your love, kindness and understanding always makes this work worth it, I love you.
Your analogy/hypothesis is super easy to understand! It makes a ton of sense... I feel like in trying times I might say to myself "bigger blanket, bigger blanket" :)
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