areallygoodman

My spirituality, a true story

2009-10-18T01:09:19Z

As of late, I have been working a couple programs, which involve my spirituality. I am no stranger to Christianity. I was baptized by total immersion in church during my early teens. I was a major playa in my youth group and responsible for getting everyone stoned at the zoo during a non-church function. I have done battle with missionaries and a bishop from the Mormon Church in an effort to explain how fucked up their thinking is during my early years. My first kiss was a beautiful girl in the choir. But through my whole life, I have always known there was more to God. The sense of right and wrong I learned back then, did help me keep my virginity until I was 18. Since then I have worked on my spirituality in one form or the other.

So back to today. I have a God of my understanding. I am currently working with my beloved Roxanne doing tantra practices. This has launched us into a relationship neither one of us thought possible. It’s not all fireworks, puppy dogs and cute bunnies in your email, but I am willing to bet nobody has what we have. True love that can overcome anything with a little help from God and the universe, but I’ll get to that.

Did I mention that I found Jesus the other week? It may be unrelated to my story, but I can’t be sure yet. Roxanne, being an atheist of long standing, was quite ecstatic. She was bouncing and giggling in that gorgeous little girl way of hers when I reported that I had found him behind the flour bin. She respectfully brushed him off, put his paper top hat back on his head and placed him back with the Buddha figurine in the bookcase next to the latest copy of the Watch Tower. At any rate, this week is when I received a text from an unknown number.

“Matt-I am sorry for the confusion. We will take care of this problem tomorrow.” Now this rolled into my cell just before midnight and I had been asleep. I had left the ringer on thinking Roxanne might call. I never heard the ringer. I did hear Roxanne’s email wishing me a good morning at 6 am later. This made things seem a bit odd and I did not recognize the number. I really wasn’t too sure who had sent it. At first I thought it was my human resource guy at work. There was a bit of confusion over whether or not I could take sick time for a car issue. I was upset that I was 200 short on rent. So I thought it was him and that he looked up my number and sent the text. So I replied to the text, “Gilbert, is this you?” No answer all day.

So the angst about the rent, the sudden realization, on closer inspection of my finances, that I was dead wrong about having enough money, the fact there was some friction building between Roxanne and I, and that damned text was really adding to my confusion. I sent another text to the unknown number, “So if this isn’t Gilbert, there is only one person that could know me by name and the current state of my mind. God, is this your cell number?” Again, no answer. Now I was getting pissed so I sent another text to the unknown number, “God, I know you are really busy and that is why you haven’t answered, but I was just wondering if you could hook me up with tonight’s winning lotto numbers?” And then came my answer, “dude, idk, i might have dialed ur # by mistake, leave me alone!” Clearly, not the same writing style as the first message, but I could not help myself. I texted back, “ Well fuck God, that wasn’t very friendly. I will leave you alone then.” I had no idea what was up with all this texting, but it was to be the least of my problems for the day.

As stated, Roxanne and I had been building to what I would learn later was another spiritual truth. Roxanne is a beautiful woman I am so dearly in love with, capable of expressing all her emotions on a moments notice. Crying tears of joy when I have made love to her in a deep and satisfying way, complete with our spiritual connection. Her love and adoration for me is enormous. What I did not know was that these powerful moments covered the entire spectrum. So on this day when I realized I did not have God’s cell phone number, I experienced her expression of anger and pain that was not entirely of my doing. I was perplexed and hurt and did not know what to do. I rolled a cigarette with my fingers, went out on the porch, sat on the bench and looked up into the evening sky. As most men do, I sat there in the dark, trying to figure out a woman. A thought came to mind, that is a bat shit, whacked out, crazy girl. A tiny meteor flashed real quick, very short lived. “Nice!” I heard myself say out loud. Now I am a bit of an astronomy buff and I didn’t remember any meteor showers this time of year. Certainly not one I could see this close to the lights of downtown Seattle. The odds of seeing one were, well, astronomical. As astronomical as a random text that included my name and the current condition of my mind. Another thought came to mind, but I love that bat shit, whacked out, crazy girl. A gigantic streak of red and orange, lined across the sky as another meteor made itself known. “OK, I get it!” I said in the dark. Actually, I was no longer in the dark.

I knew then I was to accept Roxanne unconditionally for all that she is. I am to stand with her face to face, holding her close in my arms no matter what she expresses to me. We love each other dearly and know that nothing, absolutely nothing can come between us. In this domain, there is nothing as powerful as our love. I will honor her divine with my strength and love for all of time. God and the universe has said it is so and it is done. I am Roxanne’s warrior forever. I love you sweetheart, with all that is me.

The Highland Lassie and Me

2009-07-16T05:49:07Z

Once upon a time, about ’68 or ’69, my love had been in the third grade at Lake Forest Park elementary. By the fourth grade, the new Horizon View elementary had opened and she was transferred there. I had just moved to Lake Forest Park and started the fourth grade at her old elementary. We missed each other by just a summer. A mere fraction of the forty years that followed.

The next time chance would bring us close was the seventh grade. Kellogg junior high. A time of great change for many of us at that age. Girls were becoming curvy and boys were developing deeper voices. All the trauma and drama of growing up was fast approaching. Many of the things that were so important at the time, I can hardly remember now. Except for a girl named Roxanne who had 4^th period French with Mr. Peer. There came a day I was actually early for my 5^th period class with Harvey Peer and there she was. Roxanne, with two of her friends, conversing with our teacher in what I thought was fluent French.

“Est aujourd'hui non pas une belle journée mister Peer?”

“Le ciel est bleu, le soleil est à vous chers et doivent être à un pique-nique.”

“Allez-vous venir avec nous mister Peer?”

“Souhaits que je pouvais, mais je n'ai plus d'étudiants à venir en classe.”

The girls glanced at me and laughed, slowly walking out of class, but keeping their eyes on Mr Peer, saying goodbye in that language. I was so struck by Roxanne, but I don’t even think she knew I was there. I couldn’t speak hardly a word of French, even after the second quarter and I didn’t have a clue what had been said. I didn’t know if I was the brunt of the laughter and tried to pretend I wasn’t. It was the cool thing to do along with wearing bell bottomed denims and wide striped shirts, big collars and platform shoes. They were more intent on Mr. Peer than me and that just was the way things were back then.

I played football and baseball while Roxanne did the things that she did growing up at Kellogg. There was a Drama class and a play that she had been in, but I only vaguely remember. We never had any classes together and I remember a dance where nobody danced. Her and I stayed on the side lines as did everyone and it was cool. I just remember she was fantastic, but didn’t know what to do. High school came and we were sophomores at Shorecrest. She had grown in to this independent woman who was very outspoken. She had changed her name to Krys and by chance I ran into her in the halls and asked why. She seemed put out by my curiosity and her response was that of someone insulted like I had no business to ask such a thing. I took it in stride and thought what a wonderful person to stand by her guns. I did feel silly and knew I was out classed, but I really liked her, just didn’t know what to do.

Again in high school, we didn’t have any classes together. Had a crush on her even though I dated others with no success. I played sophomore football and then stopped my junior year to work after school. That junior year, she helped manage the football team with friends I had played with. Another near miss. This was also when she became a highland lassie. The school mascot was a crazy Scotsman that kept yelling “hootmon” at all the spirit rallies before big games. The bag pipers would enter the gym with a dozen or so of the highland dancers. Sword dancers actually, beautiful girls brandishing their shiny swords, wearing kilts and bonnets with the school plaid. Roxanne was one of them. She was a wonder to behold. She had the Irish skin with freckles, stout black hair typical of the girls from Scotland. Four girls would place their swords on the ground with points toward the centers. The pipers would strike up again and my beautiful Roxanne would dance around the swords. Tall, proud and so light on her feet. I knew there were other girls dancing, I just couldn’t see them. It was glorious to hear the music and see her dance. Her feet were kicking in time, her skirt bouncing to the rhythm, chin held high, arms held at her side. I still didn’t know what to do. She seemed untouchable. Chance made it seem that way. Then graduation came and the class of ’78 was unleashed into the world. I wouldn’t see her again for thirty years.

It was chance again that I should find her online. Little did I know that the Gods had decided the waiting was over for the both of us. I’d had a pretty hard life to live until now. At forty eight, I had given up on ever finding the one. Marriages that had ended horribly, children from two mothers and I was in a self imposed exile. I was still trying to figure out what I had done wrong for so many years. Several years alone had helped me recover. Helped me understand my choices had not been the best and I had gone through much in my own personal growth. Not so much so that I could find my one true love, but just so I could live with myself in some modicum of comfort and bliss. The hardest thing a man can do is look at himself in the mirror without revulsion having made so many mistakes. But I had grown to like myself again. I was a good man damn it, and I knew it. But I really thought it was too late. I would grow old alone.

So it was agreed we would meet. Just as friends, nothing more. I had no reason to assume that it would be any more than that. History had been hard on my heart and I didn’t want to open up again to anyone. Not even a highland lassie. We met at her place and sat and talked for hours on her couch. I never felt so comfortable in my life with anyone. She was so pretty and I could not believe how little she had changed since high school. Life had been just as hard on her and I was amazed at how our children were of the same ages and similar stories of partners that just didn’t work out. Still, we remained reserved and kept up our guards, but we did have a good time. She needed help with a car and I said I knew a bit about fixing them and volunteered. It gave me the opportunity to come and see her more. She would come out while I worked and bring sandwiches and talk. Sometimes I would hardly get anything done on the car. At some point, our fences began to drop and we really enjoyed ourselves, when there came a time where we had to decide. Would this be just friends or what? She said, I thought that what you wanted was to just be friends. My heart dropped. Had I been so set in my way that I was to never find my one true love and that I was going to miss this chance? I was scared and I knew what I had to do. I said yes it was true that guys like me should be alone, but I didn’t want to be that way any more. I said I had worked very hard to weed out my old behaviors. One of which was making bad choices with mates. But I couldn’t see anything wrong with what was becoming between us. Then she told me about some more of her bad choices in life and could not believe what I was hearing. I hadn’t even guessed that she had gone through a cleansing for the same dysfunctions that I had. Something precious was growing. We needed to look at this closer. We took our time and explored our problems together from past experiences. My own honesty about my past was overwhelming I think. It encouraged trust and she returned that trust. Things began to snowball. We were talking on a personal level that I had never had with anyone. There was a kindness and fondness that was growing between us. Truth led to more truth and we were saying things to each other as if the gods had opened the gates of love themselves.

We had been here before. We knew the dangers and were committed to being cautious. Committed to not jumping into sexual passion. We had started kissing, holding hands. Passionate kissing, but kept talking about our growth as individuals. About being independent and not codependent. About love with detachment. About being friends before lovers. And then we talked about love. And what we wanted as two committed adults. And then being committed for the last and final time. To have a relationship forever. And now it’s here. Deep and passionate. Loving and adoring. Growing spiritually daily. Making leaps and bounds. Our talks have taken on a new form. When we run into dysfunction, we back up the car together knowing it is a dead end. Retracing our steps back to the path that is. The one we both deserve together. Forever. Having waited forty years for this chance, we are free to live in perfect love that is truth. The truth that is. Our bond will be a beacon of light to our children and to others. In this way, they will know the truth that is ours.

The other day I was reading while my love was free dancing to some music. I looked and there was the highland lassie again. I wrote this piece;

My love dances with a freedom like no other, like a child, happy and free, unfettered by humanity's efforts to lock up, analyze, & ship out for storage. She dances in spite of other's desires to imprison that which they don't understand. Light on her feet, airy and smooth with passionate rhythm for life. Life, love, and living in the face of humanity. She lives to be free. She shares that freedom with me, with her love and adoration for me. I am so grateful to be free with her. In love. Forever.

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I love you very much Roxanne with all that is me. I am your warrior and I have worked long and hard, all my life to be this man for you. I pledge as your warrior that no one will ever hurt you again. I trust you with all that is and give my love freely to the one. You will never cry again and only know all my heart and mind instead. I swear this as the most powerful warrior, with my love, and all of my heart, until my last breath of air in this world. I love you.