Ok, so apparently there are quite a few women (and maybe some men, you guys were a little silent on yesterday’s blog) that this one resonated with. And I think it is because when you reach middle age, after a life time of giving yourself away, you finally realize that there is actually something about you worth holding onto, even if no one else really seems to appreciate it.
I think I am amazing. Sometimes I am amazingly stupid, and dense. But regardless, still amazing.
And I think the grand gestures go both ways. I am not sitting here demanding anything from a man that I am not willing to also give...I too will make grand gestures, but first, first you have to show that you are gonna match my effort. Otherwise, I am out. O-U-T.
Here is how I see it:
I have been dating at life, trying to wrest some satisfaction in relationships with men for decades, like at least four. And I was always giving when I shouldn’t and taking when I shouldn’t. Largely fucking up the whole process. But I did, start a revolution. Well, something started a revolution, it was much more likely God then me, but I like to take credit where I totally shouldn’t have it. We call that ego...Edging God Out. Do it all the damn time. Sorry about that God. I really am working on it.
Back to dating....
I have historically been all too willing to take so much at face value, believe whatever they say, grant passage when they fall way short of the mark, and then stay way longer than I should. And I do that, have done that, because I was really unsure of my worth. I didn’t know that I was amazing. I didn’t know that at all. My ego told me wild stories that boosted me up. But that was just a load of crap designed to keep me from ever really feeling or living. I was not able to do that. Be real AND be in relations with others.
Over here all alone, super fucking real. You join me, suddenly I am trying to be what you want me to be and losing complete sight of who and what I am really am. So terrified that you won’t understand me, or love me, or get me. And guess what? You didn’t.
Grand gestures are a thing. Going above and beyond to let someone know you care, are interested, are paying attention. I mean why the fuck not? Really?? This is our one life (at least that we know of). Are we going to be content on our death beds with the following:
I am so glad I didn’t bring her flowers more often!
I am so glad that I treated the women that I really loved with disdain and kept her at arm’s length - totally good call.
I am so glad I didn’t tell her she was beautiful, sexy, kind, that she lit my world on fire.
I am so glad that I risked little and got the same back, playing it safe really paid off!
Fuck all of that.
And turning it back to myself, I do not want the female version:
I am so glad that I didn’t tell him how I felt about him.
I am so glad that I didn’t touch him, hold him, fuck him every chance I got.
I am so glad that I played it safe, and was aloof and distant.
I am so glad that he never knew just how very much I loved him.
I am so glad that I risked so little, until it was all I had left.
Fuck all of that.
Seems to me that one of the greatest things about middle age is that we begin lose the delusion that there is more time. There isn’t more time. We are more than half way through. Really. We are. And so what we do with the time that is left is quite critically important. Because, and maybe this is just me, but when I am dying, I want to look back on my life and I want to smile. I want to smile from the belly of my soul, all the way out of me. I want to laugh at the way I did things, not regret them. I want to be proud of who I loved and how. I want to be content with the versions of myself that evolved over time. I want to feel like I didn’t waste this life. This life that I got to live when so many others didn’t.
And so in the romance department, it is the age of grand gestures. Go big, or go fucking home. For them and for me. I have a big life, an amazing life and I do not want to dole it out piecemeal to whatever idiot happens to show up in my life. I want to hold out for the worthy one. The one that will match my effort, the one that can and will appreciate the nuances of my being. The one that can marvel, desire, worship (at least a little) and join me in tripping the light fandango. Anything less seems like a waste of time, and life, and soul.
I want to fade out of this world on fire, burning brightly and illuminating the path for others. I want to give, while I learn to take, which has always been hard for me. But I see now that life is always about balance, and there are those moments that are pretty fucking close to perfect. Had one of those last night and they are the things we are granted for living walking hand and hand with the universe. Allowing God to guide us, lead us and shape us into whatever it is we are destined to become. It never happens without our cooperation but sometimes happens in spite of us.
Grand fucking gestures. Let’s make it about that as we grow older. Eccentric, wild abandon to this waning of life. Growing older required, growing stale optional.
I love my life. I love the beings in it. The people, the furry masses of joy that delight and vex me daily. I love the pain, the beauty, the grace, the disgust. I love the heartache and heartbreak. For that is how I have finally been released from the prison of my own making. It required a jailbreak of epic proportions...me escaping me. Not in the self destructive spiral to the grave, no, in the self evolving ascent towards whatever it is that God has in store for me. And finally having faith that I am worth all that I demand, and that whatever I insist, I give back ten fold. And finally understanding that this is likely too much for many. And that is ok. But my life, living this life, is always going to demand that I give more, that I open more, that I grow more. And painful as it may be, it is my life unfurling itself onto myself, and some others, and it is truly amazing.
What will you do with your one wild and precious human life?
Mine is going to be about grand gestures...giving and receiving. And attempting to own that I truly have no idea what I am doing, but always with the faith, that God totally has this, and me.
