Another morning, another day. The cool air of morning blows through the apartment cooling things off. I feel less hesitant to open the windows having treated the window screens with pyrethrum, and all the door jams, window frames, carpets, nooks, crannies and anything else that seemed treatable, and potentially spider housing. I did much of it last evening, then went for a walk while the vapor hazard dissipated somewhat. Yes, multiple spider bites itch so much that I chose to suspend my preference to avoid household poisons. Now it is a matter of time, and the bites I already have will stop itching and heal.

This itching isn’t inconsequential; it makes me ferociously cross, and almost mad with distraction. I repeatedly consider cancelling my weekend plans, knowing how hard it will be to focus on anything else but this itching…but I am feeling moody, horny, lonely, and the itching itself would benefit from something that could distract me from it. Connecting with human beings outside the office would do me good – I enjoy solitude, but once it cross over to the dark side (loneliness), it becomes a very different experience.

Actual rejection, or mistreatment, may move me to put distance between myself and another human being – but it doesn’t change the very real human need for social contact that I have. The desire to avoid hurting someone who matters greatly to me may also move me to put some distance between me, and that dear one, if I don’t know another course of action, or lack skill at managing whatever the issue is (in this case, for example, this infernal itching). That’s very different from walking away from poor treatment, though, and now that my traveling partner and I live quite separately, maintaining a ‘long distance connection’ skillfully becomes urgently important to me. I know what my needs are…but I would be a fool to assume I know his, aside from what he has explicitly shared. At this particular time in our lives, our differences seem to be more profound that our common ground. This would seem to require careful expectation setting, clear communication, openness, good-natured acceptance, honesty, frankness, humor…and generous helpings of love and encouragement. We’ve both changed over the years, each picked up some baggage of our own – some shared, some very individual. Words on a page don’t do justice to the complex beauty of love. We seem, for now, to need things we are not able to provide for each other. Love needs what it needs to thrive – and so do I, and so does my traveling partner. We’re both very human.

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. ❤
Detail of “Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

My traveling partner matters too much to me to treat him poorly by design, or even predictably; I actively avoid behavior and choices that have that outcome. This weekend that seems to suggest postponing plans to hang out would be wise…and still needing human contact, connection, and companionship I chose to keep plans to have brunch with an old friend, and go to the Farmer’s Market later with a friend who is newer in my experience, both far less likely to be hurt by any irritability or distraction on my part. I managed, somehow, to screw up managing my social life such that my traveling partner may have felt hurt or rejected, instead of valued and respected. I find myself, as a result, teetering on the edge of cancelling all my plans – because hurting someone so dear to me is so uncomfortable I would rather inflict that pain on myself, and simply endure the loneliness.  What are the best practices to practice here?  I know one thing – I am staring directly into the heart of one reason I moved into my own place; I have become so attached to my traveling partner that I have difficulty taking care of me, and this continues to stall my progress in therapy (and life) as I fight myself for control of my experience while I simultaneously try to hand it over to someone who loves me so dearly that he doesn’t want that kind of power. These are issues that are in no way about him, as a person, or about love as an experience – they are at the heart of my chaos and damage, constructs that have existed for so long within my messed up programming that I am often unaware of them as they play out again and again to my detriment. At long last, I am standing on the edge of real wellness, but to get there I am going to have to fight some heavy weight demons, without a sidekick, without a hero riding in to save me, without magical weapons, and probably in incredibly shitty conditions. (Oh, hey, cue the spiders!!)

So…I keep turning the puzzle over in my head…how do I best take care of me today? How do I best take care of love? How do I nurture a long distance connection with consideration and gracious acceptance of circumstances, and still treating myself well? What is enough communication? What is too little? We travel the same distance to see each other, when we do; for me that’s 90 minutes on public transportation, for him that’s 30 minutes in the car. When I consider going to see him, the time and distance have little importance to me. He cautions me in a practical way that he isn’t always going to want to spend half an hour driving to see me, when we discuss making plans for regular time together. I need the planning. He needs the flexibility. We are different people. Hell, he pointed out, himself, that I would benefit from spending more time with other friends, getting out into the world more, doing the things I love more – and all that is true. The truth of it has nothing to do with his emotional experience of not being part of it. He is also having his own experience.

Some of the most important questions I ask myself are questions that he asked me first… Mortality being what it is, I experience doubt – and my demons do their happy dance, and my brain turns the immense power it has to create on me directly.  I worry that these precious minutes are lost, and I grieve with my whole heart for what I don’t have right now…but damn…perspective has its moment to shine, too, and I recognize the incredible wonder and joy I have experienced thus far. It’s a journey. Keeping in mind I am making the map as I go, it’s no great surprise that I have doubts, fears, worries, concerns, heartache…and all in equal and reciprocal measure to the capacity I also have for joy, delight, love, wonder, passion, creativity, and all of it leading me on a student’s path through life’s curriculum. It’s a journey. There is distance to travel, and distance to experience. There is a hearty helping of verbs – and I have to choose those wisely and act upon them with my will. My results are absolutely going to vary – and I’m not in it alone, although I am having my own experience.

…with what matters most.
“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

Today I am taking care of me, and hoping that love can be nurtured across distance and that I can learn to do it skillfully. Taking care of me also means allowing my dear ones their own experience, their own emotions, their own choices – without resistance. Taking care of me requires that I experience my own emotions with self-compassion, respect, and consideration, and make my own choices in the best way I can, myself, that meet my needs over time.  A shared journey is not indentured servitude, bondage, or a sentence – it is a choice, made with love. So…now I need to learn not to punish myself for experiences that are not mine. That’s going to take some practice. Learning to listen deeply is critical, and figuring out how to master some control over my injury is tied for first place.

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. 🙂

Today is a good day to practice. Today is a good day to smile in the sunshine and have brunch with a friend. Today is a good day to love from afar and trust that love is, and that loving myself matters, too.