A Place like Home
Being with my humble love, so open, so close, so reflective, so nonjudgmental, staying in his self-worth, unbreakable, strong and loving is not only humbling me but after a long time truly showing me the mirror of who I am and how I behave. Expecting from him to feel me, to see me, to know me and act accordingly when I show no whatsoever sensitivity for his side, for his feelings, for his world, raising myself above him and his perspective, acting as if I knew it all when this was exactly what I accuse everyone else of doing. The Kashmiri Muslims, the yogis, the bubbles, do I exactly practice the same thing by projecting my convictions, values and beliefs on them. Blindly trying to achieve understanding and connection when in reality I only want them to enter into my bubble. Heal me, care for me, me the center of the world, fill my holes, my neglect. My scarcity in being loved, seen and understood, crying like a child, my inner child, running hurt, projecting it on the next best person telling them to catch me.
With these freshly integrating insights about my own behaviors I go into the yoga session, ending in tears running out of my eyes when the relaxation time starts. V is again massaging my face, my heart is pouring. „Be happy. Smile. Everything is ok“. He passes by me two times. Closing the session, holding each other’s hands, chanting mantras, I’m moved inside.
I feel so much love for J and so much shame for my behavior although he never blamed me, even appreciated the way I was communicating with him; I blame myself. I want to be near him and apologize, hug him, make myself vulnerable as well. My head down to hide my tears, his once again insensitive comment: „What? Are you sleeping?“. It’s like the universe slapped me in my face. Wake up call? For me this time?
With the slap in my face, going to get a shower he does not try in any way to communicate with me, no smile, no look at me, all the warmth from before, gone as if I’d become a stranger again. My heart is cramping again. The same going back and forth game, ignoring me or not finding the motivational courage to communicate with me.
My heart is heavy, clouded. I don’t know what to make of it. This kind heart swinging between all the care in the world, seeing me, supporting me, holding me and behaving like I’m a ghost that he cannot see.
My sad energy, visible for everyone except him. I’m quiet, I lie down. Even the happiest soul of the house can see that something is wrong with me. I’m tired. Everyone is. My friend offers me to talk. We speak for an hour and I get to the understanding that no matter how well we both mean and no matter how much we like each other that I have to understand and accept how different our backgrounds and worlds we’re living in are. That there are personalities which are simply not compatible or only were to work with a lot of effort and energy which I’ve been ready to invest most of the times, without always analyzing if it was worth my time and love.
With this in my mind and truly wanting the best for him, I send him a message asking him why he’s avoiding me. He comes to my room.
A scenario I know from a few days before starts. „I’m not avoiding you babe. I was with friends“. I can hardly control my anger, my disappointment having him back in icy cold mode, blind passenger, blind for his own fear, hiding from me again, making me feel stupid. I raise my voice as I don’t feel heard or understood in any way, feeling his wall built up strongly. He repeats the same things like a robot three times, driving me deeper into my mad zone. I start yelling at him. Telling him that he was just like all the other guys before, lying, hiding, not seeing himself, protecting himself for the price of hurting me. I’m so upset. Feeling like again all my words have been going into empty space, I become frantic, communicating into nowhere, I throw words at him and tell him that at least he makes it easy for me that way, that this was literally all I needed to know, to let go of him. Between my speech and yelling, he’s trying to leave the room. „Ok. Good night“. It pushes me to my top form. Explaining to him that I just have wished to know all this before, being all the reason for me to speak to him in the first place, to at least have a reflected, honest answer about his motivation toward me. Slowly I see the ice melting from his heart. The room is becoming warmer. He’s kneeling down next to my bed, listening. He’s bowing his head down.
„Can I hug you?“. He breaks the spell. The storm has passed. We’re together again, with one another instead of pushing our worlds on each other.
„I’m so sorry I cannot treat you right. I don’t know how to make you happy. I’m still learning , I’m confused sometimes. You’re so perfect. You say all the right things. I don’t deserve you. I’m so sorry for being so stupid. I just don’t know how to behave right so you don’t get angry. You’re such a gem I don’t want to lose you in my life. I never met anyone like you“.
I look at him. „It’s not that you are bad or I am good or the other way around. We’re just too different that’s all. We may as well rather keep each other in our lives, close to our hearts, instead of trying something that at best turns out to be difficult, making each other unhappy, ending up disliking the other person. It’s good we know now so we can be friends without expecting the impossible from one another and enjoy the time we have together“.
The air is clear, the clouds have moved, my heart is light again. We’re at peace, calm, in complete acceptance. I tell him to come lie with me, he’s crawling into me like a child, looking for love and shelter, squeezing me so tightly like he never wants to let me go. I feel safe. I feel his love.
We fall asleep together, him holding me all night long. Throughout the day he’s trying to be close to me and so am I. Smiling happily at each other, hugging, kissing, holding hands, sitting together, cutting veggies in the kitchen, eating together like we’re two new souls meeting each other. He’s looking for me, checking if I’m ok with such softness, as I’ve seen all this time in him. I tell him he can sleep with me. And so he does. It seems taking the expectations of anything from the relationship also moves us physically closer, rolling around on the floor, not wanting to let the other one go.
Our energy has shifted to respect, acceptance and the intention of being happy.
Starting into this day with the sacrifice of a sheep, costing me many tears and a broken heart, he’s holding me in his lap, caressing my head, kissing my forehead, sitting with the others. No fear of touching, not emotionally or physically.
I’m laying on his lap, he bends down to kiss me. „I have to do something“. He’s communicating. Directly, to me, in empathy quite in opposite to the days before.
He’s walking towards me, holding up coconut oil, a branch in his mouth. He’s smiling, coming up the stairs, bringing me things to clean my teeth. I lost my coconut oil I had said in the morning, waking up and there he stands in front of me. He sits down, takes the bandage off my hand that he’s been giving me during yoga before when he saw that I didn’t do the exercises but rotating my wrists instead. Interrupting his own class, taking care of me, changing around the movements so I can take part in the class with all my aching, wound muscles and joints from the hard training the last days. I gave my all, my best, pushing myself into arm balances on my weak wrists, into strong warriors with my fragile hips, stretching deeper, building muscles and memories. It is time for rest. I cannot push myself into even the most basic positions anymore. Rest. Restoring. Realizing that not only him but all the beautiful souls around here take my every move, every notion, every feeling or need seriously. I am being taken seriously. My biggest wound. Being heard, being seen.
No more yoga for this day or the following ones. Instead more love and compassion. More attention, more rolling on the floor together, melting into one another, smiling eyes and connection. No hiding, no childish games, no insults, no hurt feelings.
Cooking apples for the full moon in the kitchen, he’s chatting with our kitchen friend. They’re laughing, he’s putting his arm around me, touching his face against mine. I want to know what they’re talking about. „He asked if you were going back to Ladakh but I said you’re not leaving, you’re staying here with us.“
Closing the day after our Apple Kheer, a mantra from my past starts playing, slowly I start chanting along, becoming light inside. My friend says: „my mom used to play that for me when I felt sad, angry or in a bad mood“. I go back in my memories. Sakartvelo. It was full moon. Yoga. The Mantra. I open the back of my phone. The mantra is inside. Reconnection. Nine months ago, returning in a new safe space where my heart is healing, closing with him, coming into my room, smiling, hugging me, holding me, kissing me. „It’s like someone has exchanged you two days ago“ I say. It literally feels that way. He’s become from reserved and hiding to proactive and romantic. That shift in energy that I wanted but didn’t expect.
Having thought that, he comes climbing up the balcony like Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. I feel myself smiling across my entire face for three days now. I still cannot believe how he’s been melting instantaneously since we’ve had our last conversation, completely evolving around me. I’m happy. Surprised. Grateful. This place feels like home. A home that every day some friends are leaving. After lunch, she’s turning to me: „Thank yogi for everything. Really. I’ve learned so much from you and I felt so connected, not only in yoga. Every conversation we had. You will be an amazing yoga teacher. Really. I know that.“ I’m touched. Again. Honored.
It’s astonishing how when you give freedom and only your best intentions into a relationship instead of expectations on how someone should act or function around you, it can transform into its true nature. Love itself.
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