Melissa’s love story continues…
A few week’s ago, my dear friend Lu sent me the card above. She is one of the few people in my life who still sends actual mail and I love her for that. This particular card has been sitting on my desk as a daily reminder.
I suppose the card’s message is always an important one, but for me it is particularly timely and this is also an especially difficult blog post to write. For those of you who have been following us here, you may remember the essence of my post CHANGE: From the Files of “Be Careful What You Wish For” and “Never Say Never”— essentially a love letter to one with whom I had fallen in love. The same one I changed my life for, my “last great love”.
New love is so alluring, folded as it is into hope, delight and discovery. As a then 51-year-old, it also caught me completely by surprise. I am not an impetuous person, but in this case, in middle age, it seemed dangerous to waste time, and so we didn’t. But as with many great loves, the ending is not always happy, and I am sad to report here that we are no longer. I have not wanted to write this not only because it is sad, but also because I feel embarrassed that I put this love out in public and have seemingly failed so miserably. Also it’s hard to put something, anything, out there when I feel as I do that my guts are being ripped out. Read more
Carine Fabius recently watched a romantic comedy in which two smart women behaved like “dimwits” as they searched for love and passion. That got her thinking, once more, on the topic of passion. Here’s an excerpt from her book, currently in progress.
I never recovered from Body Heat, the movie. I’ve seen it 50 times. I love everything about it—the music, the dialogue, the mood. It was all that passion—that hissing, heated, flame orange emotion. Matty Walker snared Ned Racine with it; in no time the man was hooked. His obsession led to murder. The whole thing left me reeling. I like that in a movie.
At the tender age of 18, I’d already been through the wash cycle on hot with passion, and wrung out in a dryer set on high; but that was just a preview. Soon, I’d be dancing on hot coals all over again. And again.
That’s the question I asked myself back then, and now, Read more
I’m 52, so by all rights I should be wise, right? I thought wisdom came with the growing old package, right alongside gracefully. But something got messed up on my order form, because it turns out the gracefully part is a day-to-day challenge that gets harder, not easier, as time goes by!
And, for some reason, I thought by now I would have figured out the answer to the question that’s been nagging at me for years. Are human beings violent by nature, or is our essence the stuff of love? In other words, if love (aka God) is what we are under this physical shell—which is what I believe in my heart and is my experience when I go deep in meditation—then, why, as a friend put it the other day, are people so mean to each other? Why have humans been killing each other with gusto since the dawn of time? Read more
The Sufi’s say, Ya Fattah—May the Way Open. A Sufi said this to me at a gathering about a year ago. I know well enough to know that God’s time, the universe’s time, whatever you want to name it, is frequently different than my time.
What I can say is when the way opens, it REALLY opens and you’d better be ready to walk through.
As has been documented here, I’ve been single for a long while, seven-year cycle to be exact. In August, I met a woman at the behest of an inner voice yelling at me to turn around and go back and meet her, Read more
Keep falling in and out of love
In search for what I’m dreaming of…
sing Diana Ross and the Supremes
The older I get the more often I find wisdom in song lyrics, and because I’m looking at 60, I find them on the oldies station. But I’m actually writing about being married.
My husband and I have been together now for more than twenty years. I am his third wife, and he is my first husband. We lived together for three years before we wed and were middle-aged (he was 51 and I was 40). We are very well-suited to each other and are deeply married. That being said, I find marriage peculiar. Read more
A very strong, courageous woman has shared this poem by Marge Piercy with me. In that we are writing on courage this month, it seemed to address this subject more powerfully than I ever could.
What I would offer to my sisters is that now is the time to let our hearts show, to come forward, to stand in the light where we must be, to make ourselves powerful in numbers, in deeds, and in words. Speak, speak, and speak the truth, always.
For strong women
by Marge Piercy
A strong woman is a woman who is straining.
A strong woman is a woman standing
on tiptoe and lifting a barbell
while trying to sing Boris Godunov. Read more