In 1975, somewhere early spring, I was hugging my soon to be ex boy friend as hard as I could. He packed his car and was moving back to his parents.
I was sobbing. I told him I loved him.
When his car disappeared around the curve, I wiped my tears and sighed a sigh of freedom.
I asked him to leave. And I cried.
I didn’t make sense to myself, but often you don’t, and you shouldn’t.
Making sense means: your past is defining your future.
Loving someone doesn’t mean that staying with them is the best path for you.
You might be like me, your path will be long and arduous.
I had to go deeper, I had to go lower, I had to lose a lot more than just the security of a loving relationship, for me to find my own path.
You cannot do it while trying to match steps with another human… maybe even if that other human is your parent, or your child.
You need to feel that you are ruining only your life, because the path to your own path is riddled with places where it feels like you need to die. The abyss.
The higher you aim the more abyss you need to risk falling into.
Most of you don’t have to worry: you have set your eyes on the second floor… not the stars. Not many abysses on your way to the second floor, even if you are starting in the basement.
I am OK with that, it is your life. Who am I to tell you what to be up to?
My job is to help you maneuver to where YOU want to go.
I am here to show you that you can aim higher, but not to push you to aim higher.
