Hainke Painke

I have started dating again. 

It is strange to date when you still love another. It, in fact, feels like you are cheating. 

It is even stranger to have to tell the one you love that you are going out with another man. 

To his credit, he said he was jealous - which was very confusing to me! I never considered that to be a possibility! Reeling, I made the mistake of responding that I wished it was him and I going instead. It took me a few minutes to realize that I didn't really mean that...

I really have to stop saying those kinds of things.

My first date (Sunday Man) pulled up in an old beat up jalopy ... with a door that had to be opened from the inside only. He was fun, but not enough for me to overlook his 39 years of backwards upbringing. I requested a return trip home due to an early morning at work. 

My second date (Thursday Man) turned out to be a little easier to manage as I had become smarter over the previous three days and learned to arrange a meeting place. He was a full decade older than me, very nice, handsome for an older man - and totally uninteresting to me. I felt very mean as he hugged me goodbye and asked for a second date. I knew there would not be another. And I did not say so. 

My third date (Friday Man) I also met on location - although on the way there, I was followed by a car that housed a man that vaguely fit my date's description. But not in a good way. I prayed so hard that it was NOT my date - and breathed a sigh of relief when he turned left and I turned right. My date turned out to be pleasant, handsome, well educated, well traveled, interesting - and a long-winded braggart. I truly did not get to say four words in about 3 hours while I listened to scores of anecdotes relating to his travel, his riches, his possessions...and then to top it all off, he took me up on my offer to pay half for our meal! Ha! When he hugged me goodbye, he assured me that he would be in touch. I am not sure I will be reachable...we will see.

My fourth date (Saturday Man) was the one I was really looking forward to. A manicure and pedicure, a new pair of shoes, and a new flush in my cheeks meant that we were to have a great evening! I had talked to him a few times on the phone, and enjoyed his repartee tremendously. The only red flag that I could see was his sudden and deep penetration into my social media life...he knew my personal email addresses, found my facebook page, my blog - it just felt a bit strange. As the time approached for me to leave to meet him in Denver, I received an odd text: " Looking forward to seeing you - don't come too late." To which I queried playfully what exactly too late would be. As texts went back and forth a few more times it became clear that he and I had different ideas of what our date was going to look like, and he was frustrated. And then - he stopped responding all together when I asked if maybe we shouldn't call the whole thing off! Twice I texted, twice I called, and then, remembering what D used to say about giving the non-responding party the benefit of the doubt (noone can be on their phones as much as I need them to be!), I kept our arrangement plans and assured myself that there would be a good explanation.

There wasn't. 

There was, however, an email that arrived on my phone an hour later. The part that stands out the most to me: "I am sorry that you came to Denver - you shouldn't have. If I had wanted you to, I would have called you back."

I am so very blessed that my God looks out for me. I am so grateful that this guy showed his character so early. I had no idea that I was dealing with that kind of personality. 


I did respond, though...just a short note, letting him know that I was glad that it wasn't because something horrible happened and that had kept him from answering his phone. (I honestly thought maybe his ailing dog had suffered an episode, as that is what he had been dealing with all week.)


His response? "Are you being sarcastic? I didn't know that Christian Republicans were smart enough for that?"


After my friends and I laughed at his ridiculousness, I privately took great pleasure in the fact that I held myself back from retorting that maybe we weren't smart enough for sarcasm, but we sure as HELL know that you don't end a statement with a question mark.

D never told me that dating was this...this...weird. I hope it gets better.

Sellur's Market

I have been doing crazy things to my phone lately. It is almost as if it senses my imbalance and translates all of my negative energy into random internal commands. 

For two weeks I tried unsuccessfully to reach my mother. I was so desperate to talk to her, so needy, and so distraught that my poor little phone freaked out. Twice, instead of calling my mom, it called D's mom! Very awkward...especially when sobbing. Three times it disconnected as soon as someone answered on the other end. One time it just refused to dial the number at all. (Are phones allowed to be that disobedient??) Finally, my mom called ME. 

And as soon as I heard her voice the tears started. 

Now, I don't get to talk to my mother a whole lot - I would like to say that we are the kind of family that calls each other once or twice a day or even a week - but the truth is, we aren't. I have gone for months without talking to my mom or dad. (Determined to change that, by the way...) So I am sure that it was a bit bewildering to have me launch into a full blown sob with sniffles and garbled words. Like a trooper, she listened until I was all done, asked a few pertinent questions, and did the only right thing to do in such a situation: she went online and procured a plane ticket for her crazy daughter to come visit her little piece of heaven in NH. 

I am going to see my mom in early Sept. YAY! :) 


Let's all say it together one. More. Time -  It's going to be okay. 


...right?

Stupid Girl

That's right. I said it.

Dumb, dumb, dumb, stupid girl.

I didn't make it over the last hurdle without falling flat on my face. The skinned elbows and knees pale in comparison to the gouges I caused on the inside.

You know, I wanted to break up because I didn't want either one of us to settle for less.

Instead, I became worse than less. I became the proverbial "booty call". 

Willingly. Over and over.

I am so ashamed. 

I am not as healthy now as I was even three years ago. 

I am less respectable today than I was three years ago, too.

...stupid girl.

Mercurial

 Do you ever feel like one of those roulette wheels? Like someone just grabbed hold of a peg on your emotions and gave a hard spin?

I went to bed last night in a very resolute mood - a wise, no nonsense, almost hardened spirit in me for sure. I woke up with the desire to bring sacredness in to our home throughout our day. I have since digressed into a bit of chaos and muddled thoughts, tinged with a bit of panic.

I am committed to using the practice of mindfulness to be aware of where I am and how my thought life is affecting my actions and the persona that I am portraying. But, good grief - who knew how much I think?? And who knew how much of those thoughts are just me translating others' actions, writing stories about who they are in relation to me? It is a bit exhausting to say the least!

In other news - I get to have "super week" (dubbed so by my youngest because it is one week plus an extra three days) with my kids. It is also the first week of school. Seeing how I missed it last year because it wasn't MY week, I am thrilled and feeling doubly blessed because it is Taylor's senior year. What a huge milestone.

I am so excited in fact that I am trading my Pool Time for more School Supply and Clothes Shopping. Now, that's a big deal!

Before I go, I want to ask you one thing: How do YOU bring sacredness into your everyday activities? What is one way you perform ritual in honoring yourself and your home?

Emergence

Emergence
Originally uploaded by tielji

What an unusual day. What a fantastical, magical, unusual and wonderful day.

Everything is just as it should be. I am overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude. Not sure how long it will last or how the intensity can sustain itself, but ohmygawd, I will take it!

My neighbor next door is a shaman of sorts. Maybe not a shaman - but definitely a strong woman of medicine and spirit. Her knowledge of herbs, meditation, spiritual access, reflexology and physical/emotional relations is astounding. I am in awe of her - and sometimes intimidated.

But not yesterday. Yesterday, my neighbor took me in to her home. She brought me into a room of muted purples and greens with soft music and fabrics and smells and a carefully prepared environment for ministering to my body. My poor, sad, ravaged and heart broken body.

As I climbed under the sheet on the table, feeling uncharacteristically comfortable with being naked, I marveled at the level of vulnerability that I was willing to achieve just to feel anything differently than how I have been feeling.

Before she even laid her hands on me, I started to weep. Silent tears streaming down both sides of my head, dampening the the hair at my temples and the lilac sheet I rested on. Searching for words to explain the tears (in case I needed to explain), I realized that these were not tears of pain or loneliness or heartbreak. These were tears of gratitude. Gratitude for the kindness I was being shown. Gratitude that I was safe and being cared for. Gratitude that I am going to be okay...

She massaged and kneaded and coaxed the muscles in my body for over two hours. Lingering on those places that seemed to want to hold on to hurt. Persistent with those areas that tried to hide the poisons that want to infiltrate the quiet places of the heart and mind.

It was wonderful.

She called me last night to check on me - sometimes breaking all of that loose can cause severe reactions in a person. But it seems that she took the brunt of it, as I had a wonderful and productive evening, and she ended up taking a three hour nap that left her disoriented and shook up upon awakening. Somehow, she took all of my "yuckiness"...

I don't know how all of that works, but she assures me that it happened just the way it is supposed to. This is her ministry. This is her gift. To me.

I feel like a brand new person. And I am so VERY grateful. :)

Big Sunglasses and Waterproof Mascara

So. Beginning of August, ah? Wow. Time seems to be speeding up as I get older...seems unfair! The kids are registered for school, my lawn is starting to green up again after the brutal heat of July, and I am doing things during the day other than floating around in the pool for relief. I better pay attention or the next post will be about how I am shoveling snow off of my front porch!

Things are getting easier...better...clearer. I am not struggling to breathe anymore, and honestly, I am saddened to know that some people live with that overdose of adrenaline every day. I can't even imagine. That pit in the belly, that clenching of the guts, that winded feeling from just a thought - what a killer. I read somewhere that our minds grant us the gift of amnesia when our hearts are broken so that we are willing to take a chance on love again in the future, to risk going through all of that dreadfulness.

 I am not there yet.

Just to be very clear - D did nothing to break my heart. There was just something missing inside of him - or a wall that needed some dynamite - and it kept him from being able to create a future with me. He was always a great boyfriend, and he kept me safe from myself when I was so destructive (especially after my divorce), and I am so very grateful to have had him while it was our time. And now it isn't our time anymore.

My next big hurdle will be to figure out how to keep us from landing in bed together - in that tangled, delicious heap of frenzy - every time I see him...