Serendipity

As the long hot, humid summer begins to slowly shift into Fall, I find myself in a dreamier state than I would normally have time for. There is not a lot of deviation in my daily tasks and responsibilities, only the rhythmic pace to accomplish everything before the slumber hours set in. Now that darkness gradually descends upon us earlier with each passing day, the forces of nature drive me inside and inward with the calendar season.

Although Fall is my favorite time of the year, I struggle with the love/hate aspect of the shorter days. If truth be known, the reality is that I regard slowing down unfavorably because it awakens the fear of unknown revelations that tend to evade your otherwise busy and emotionless hours. This apprehension is closely similar to a dear friend of mine who keeps her social calendar full simply because she claims she would have to clean her house without personal obligations to tend to…lol!

It should, however, be dually noted that my most rewarding soul searching has derived from the Harvest Moon until Spring equinox. In previous years, responsibilities would still be waiting on you, although you had retreated inside as soon as darkness appeared at 5:30 PM. There would be meals to cook, laundry to do, assist with and/or check homework (more often than not, making certain homework was being done), caring for the homestead, baths to be had, spending a minimum of 2 hours getting tiny humans to bed, etc. Gradually, as the tiny humans were nearing their flight from the nest, this would be a season I would begin journaling, in an attempt to keep from overthinking, worrying and questioning my future without the need for my maternal setting. It was only a year ago that I finally found peace with the otherwise restless season on my hands. Everything finally found a peaceful corner to rest in and I came to terms with how to channel my thoughts, insecurities, fears, mistakes, concerns, restless sleep and lingering darkness. Had I adequately prepared the tiny humans to explore the world on their own?

As I contemplated this question, I suddenly realized my question should be ” have I come to terms with the fact that my tiny humans no longer need me”? I have struggled with this very vulnerable question, as I am a nurturer by nature. I feel as though I am living my life purpose when I am tending to others and caring for their needs. Two weeks into an empty home that was once filled with laughter, teenage arguments, sibling rivalry, empty cupboards, discarded towels trailing the floor, I would get two phone calls approximately 20 minutes apart. The first was from eldest tiny human asking if I could proof read her thesis if she were to email it to me. The second was from the youngest tiny human. This human was not as quick to ask for anything, prompting the immediate questions “are you ok”? “what’s wrong”? “where are you”? Finally, I hear…”I am fine, mom…I just called to see what you are doing”. Ok, admittedly, tears are swelling in my eyes as I type this. After a few moments of reassuring words, I would sink back into the comforts of my bed for the most restful sleep I had had in two weeks. That is when it hit me: You know you have done your job well, when your children feel confident exploring the abounding opportunities awaiting them without you.

Fast forward to this season. With two weeks left before the time changes and we officially return to the Fall season, I ask myself what am I prepared to ponder, seek manifestation for, what goals do I wish to achieve, what grievances do I have to release, what options do I need to consider , etc. Appropriately timed… but encouraging me to step outside of my comfort zone… I have recently been faced with the dilemma of a potential suitor.

Before I begin, allow me to share with you something I recall reading some years ago. I happened upon a statement, or statistic rather, that most people will have 2-3 significant lovers in their lifetime. While I believe all statistics will rise to possible scrutiny and can quite possibly surpass cosmic expectations, the reality is that I have lost 2 long term lovers in my life… 1 to Divorce and 1 to Cancer. My ex husband and I have remained platonic friends to this day, while losing my other companion to terminal disease has been the most heart wrenching challenge in my lifetime. To say that I have not been on the hunt for another relationship is an understatement. After all, the best things in my life have come along when I least expected them.

First and foremost, those who know me well will know that I am quite happy having a single relationship with myself and being a home body…and perfectly content as such. Therefore, I would have to find someone or something extraordinary to sacrifice coming out from the confines of my sanctum during my off time from work to co-exist with someone… even if it should be for an 1 1/2 hour dinner.

Secondly, since I am not one for being on a hunt or chase (except for a bargain at the thrift store), some have told me a brick would have to fall on my head for me to notice a man’s advances…lol! “Wait…what?” is an all too common response when confronted with this affirmation. Don’t get me wrong…although not my style, I can pounce on an object of desire like a lioness…but I prefer to veto that approach and claim discipleship for my own happiness.

While there have been the casual dates thru the years, my mother used to say, “you don’t have to marry the guy to go out with him”. To me, anything less was invasion of my time, effort, vulnerabilities, creative endeavors or sleep. I know my values, morals, attributes, intellect and flaws better than anyone else…and the real raw depth of my soul is not for the feint of heart. Intuitive by nature, once I sense a compatible match, I will then come out of my shell…but more out of intrigue than one of obligation.

Fast forward to a few months prior… a guy I have known for 5-6 years, who I have always admired and respected as a friend, suddenly began exhibiting subtle warning signs of interest. Now, mind you, I am not one to usually pick up on these clues; therefore, the signs I began reading were more than just subtle. This is not someone I would encounter often so I would simply dismiss the attempts as a misreading on my part. After all, he is married….OR…is he still married?

After a few more of these chance encounters, I found myself trying to evade his presence for the fear of encouraging his behavior that defies my firm belief in the honor code system. I began questioning whether or not I had done or said something to him that would lead him to believe that I was flirting with him? Admittedly, I was flattered by his attempts to get my attention but I would feel embarrassed and ashamed that I may be succumbing to feelings or emotions for a married man. Eventually, I found myself tending to scraped knees from evading the otherwise, would-be subject of interest.

The thought did occur to me to ask him, if he was still married. However, the mere thought sounded too much like an invasion of one’s privacy. I know from personal experience, that even if he was in the process of divorce or already divorced, it becomes a matter of time before one is ready to discuss what they may perceive as a failure (at least it was that way for me).

In the meantime, I would find my mind wandering to the previous encounters where he would display his masters degree in seduction with all the right moves. Did he have this impact on all the ladies or was I the only one that felt like a wet noodle when he smiled at me? He not only brought in those pesky little butterflies with him…but he brought in the whole damn zoo! Just when I thought I could suppress the sensations, I would think, “OMG, there go the knees” to “forget the knees…there goes the lump in the throat and then the electric surges through my entire being.” I could not help but wonder if he would catch me when I fell? Had he always had those sleek eyes and seductive and dangerous smile and I had not noticed before now? Where did he suddenly appear from…I was not expecting him at all…but suddenly I found myself totally enamored by him?

As my knee scrapes continued to get deeper, I figured that tending to my knees was better than tending to a broken heart, especially when it involved a married man. Additionally, I have too much respect for myself to invite a situation where I am an option left on the sidelines….not to mention being a home wrecker.

Only my closest friend would know about this experience, as I did not dare not share this with anyone within the circle of our common acquaintances. I not only faced the fear in approaching him with the inevitable question but the possible disappointment with what I feared his answer would be. Additionally, I take pride in the fact that I keep my “situationships” private, where they belong. My nearest and dearest friend would say, “this is not the Trina I know…the Trina I know does not know fear of the unknown, as she treads where most mortals dare not enter.” She was right…why was I so scared?

A few days later, on another chance encounter, I would suddenly notice he had retreated back to his serious, cautious, reserved nature. Perhaps it was the unsightly knee bandages…OR…perhaps he was growing weary from his admirable but unsuccessful attempts to swoon me over to the dark side of a marital affair.

Finally, I bit the bullet and asked another nearest and dearest friend (inside our circle but completely trustworthy) if she knew if our mutual friend was still married. If there had been a status update, I would be the last to know since I generally do not travel in the gossip lane. This policy has served me well through the years; however, this piece of knowledge may have proved beneficial in this particular case. Much to my dismay, she DID know and replied, “he is divorced…it was final this summer.”

This answer came at me like a double edged sword. In one sense, I was relieved but on the other hand, I felt like I was having the worst case of assumption versus reality ever! OMG would not even begin to describe how horrified I felt…kind of like thinking you had taken the last step to suddenly realizing there was one more step. My response to my source was “can you still run away with the circus?…asking for a friend.” Her laughter in response began to fade as I retreated, notifying my friend that I was going home to alcohol…some for my scraped knees and some for my internal regret…so that I can overthink and internalize, as the listless night begins to set in.