You know the type, the incredibly fit and vivacious person of interest who is slightly too amazed by themselves. In their babble of bliss they slip in a few zingers that become BIG RED FLAGS. Here’s an example.
Yada yada, my son’s dealing with some addiction problems.
“Oh that whole AA thing is a cult.”
Um, lights out for that yogini. I was tempted to follow up with, “What is your experience with the 12 steps?” I kept my composure of fascination at how smart and lively she was. Errr. She’s been all over the map, and today she left me a voice message on text. Okay.
Here’s the thing, we want others to do well. I never like being the “no” in the partnership, but I have learned my lesson on so many fronts about this fact of LOVE and RELATIONSHIPS:
People will not change by request. People change because their old patterns and defense mechanisms no longer provide comfort. More likely, they exacerbate the isolation and loneliness.
Yesterday was an amazing adventure. Here’s what happened.
I woke up at 8 am and had a tennis match across town at 8:30. I was five minutes late. When you’ve got three other people waiting for you, counting on you, you learn how to get your priorities straight. Sure, I’ve missed one or two, but some of these men I’ve been playing tennis with for the better part of 30 years. And you know one of the main things increasing our human longevity, is healthy on-going relationships.
Sure, I’d like to say my previous girlfriend was THE ONE. But, you know what else I’ve learned, “There is no one.”
In fact, the second “I’m late” moment came shortly after the tennis. I was in my friend’s pool and we were talking about lunch when my watch reminding me my best friend’s father-in-law was being buried today and not Sunday, as I mentally recorded. I was late again. This time I missed some of the opening ceremony. I made it in plenty of time to show up for my best friend.
The man giving the service was one of these “higher vibration” people. Fifteen years ago, we shared some social circles and he was dating this absolutely amazing woman. He was very spiritual. He was gorgeous and fit. A fine male spiritually awakened specimen. And there was something not quite right. He talked a lot about his spiritual journey. Too much. The enlightened just go about their daily lives. No need to promote or preach about their path or their journey or their whatever.
When this woman, Linda, broke up with him, fifteen or so years ago, the walls began to collapse in his sand castle of God. He entered the Episcopal Seminary. Yesterday we were reunited at a service he was leading.
Note: in this universe, there are no coincidences.
Later, during the reception and food portion of the service, I sat watching the photo graphic show of this man I didn’t really know. He seemed amazing, though. All FOUR of his wives were in attendance. And you know what, they all still loved him.
The part that struck me, personally, was how little I knew about my best friend’s relationship to this cool man. I recall that my friend was very enamoured by Dr. B. He was a Ph.D who lived in the present world as well as in the hippie world. He was a full-on hippie. If I could’ve looked at these photos from a different perspective, I’d have wanted to hang out with this guy.
And I was in almost as many of the pictures of this man as my best friend. He was in ONE memorial photo of his very cool father-in-law. There were tons of photos of dad and my friend’s wife. In fact, I think Dr. B is who got my friend to actually apply himself and GO TO MEDICAL SCHOOL. He had recently started dating the daughter who was finishing her first semester at medical school.
So my friend pulled some alumni strings, some “dad was a track start at UT” strings, and he go into Texas Tech Medical School along side his future wife. It was the quickest about-face I’d ever seen in my life. And here’s the thing, he did it. He made it. He is practicing medicine off the grid from a Sprinter van hooked up with Elon’s Starlink so he can do his job from within the deep isolation of the piney woods or the desert.
I asked him yesterday, “Did you ever read Desert Solitare?”
“I think I bounced after a bit. The Monkey Wrench Gang was amazing though.”
Later, I asked his wife, “So, how are you doing living out of a van for months at a time.”
“I say in the house,” she said. “He’s all over the place.”
Okay, so back to the man with four wives at his funeral. As I was watching and listening to the service, the family saying a few words about this amazing man, I thought about how I wanted to be “this amazing man” to a limited number of people. First, to my kids and close family. Second, to one woman.
Since my divorce in 2010 I’ve had three real attempts at long-term cohabitation and co-creative journey making. Guess what? They all failed.
The good news: I am still young and optimistic about my future partner. I have new information about my needs and wants. And I’m not sure I’ll ever have another wife. So, perhaps, my two wives will attend my funeral some thirty or so years from now. But I’m not counting on that, or on my rapid reconnection with another woman.
I’m taking a break. Following a musical journey up to the upper reaches of New York state. A pause. A namasté moment for myself. Alone and dreaming. Alone and happy. Alone and self-reliant. Musical. Ecstatic. Spiritual.
What struck me as I was listening to the man from the ashram speak at the funeral of the man with four wives I was most touched by how little I knew of my best friend’s life. How was it he was not closer to his “other dad,” the one who got him fired up about medical school? How was it that I didn’t know this amazing man, doctor, musician, writer, poet? How is it that my best friend and I share so little these days?
I guess he’s avoidant as well. Many of us are.
When the minister sat at my table for food later, we were talking about the old times. “Did you go to Rose Mountain?” I asked. “Is that how we met?”
“I know about Rose Mountain, but I was at an ashram in Santa Fe when you guys were at the retreat.”
In a very odd series of events, about an hour later, I was driving over to my tennis buddy’s house to pick up a large flat-panel TV I loaned him for our annual Wimbledon party. I passed right by Linda’s house. The woman who sent this minister up to the seven-story mountain of his life. The house was for sale.
I had one moment with Linda. I recall being in the living room of this house, in Tarrytown and probably worth a cool 2 million, thinking, “Wow, this woman is amazing and amazingly damaged.” She held so many aces in her hand, yet appeared to not understand the basic rules of the game.
Life is like that.
If you don’t pay attention to what you want, put effort into getting there, and continue to evolve and strive for YOUR goal, you might get left behind.
In my dating profile on Bumble I have my opening move, “What is the song that is on repeat in your car this summer?” Here’s mine.
I Wanna Know Girls – by Portastic
I wanna know girls who want to know men
I’m already stuck inside the head of one of them
I’m so loosely defined
I wanna draw your outline
On a fresh yard of snow
The burning leaf held by the stem
I wanna know girls, yeah every one I can
And mostly I’m not stupid, but I love what I can learn from them
Sometimes knowledge is a shock
Don’t push stuff by sharing rocks
You are my only sweetness and you know it
When you let yourself see it
That vibrating halo of tin
And let yourself be known
Let yourself be known
Don’t use words, we’re never alone
No, we’re never alone
And let yourself be known
Yeah, let yourself be known
We don’t need words, we’re never alone
No, we’re never alone
I wanna know girls that give me hope
That float by through the air
I love your feet and your legs
And everything going up from there
I was one thing I can always be had
But real love’s not up for grabs
You know men ruin everything, it’s true
But you and I, we can’t be spoiled so let’s be fair
I wanna know girls, but only love one
You’re my source of energy
Hook a panel up to me
And shine down on me like the sun
Now, you and your friends say love is blind
But I think it’s easy and kind
Or anyhow it could be
You buzzed me like it would be
You think we’re in the movies
But movies never move me
Don’t think that you can lose me
‘Cause love is like an uzi
It weighs a ton. Oh yeah, my love weighs a ton – Hey!
And just to bring the story fill circle, the woman of interest said some interesting things in her debrief last week about why she was tired of putting in the effort only to have men disappoint her. Um. Well, we could stay there, but I’ll move to the original idea.
“I know you’re dealing with a lot. Your son… What’s his name again?” We’ve been talking for months.
Lights out.
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