A letter to Katie,

This is a copy of a letter that I haven't sent to Katie. We have made an agreement not to talk for a month, to give each other the space to dissolve the emotional ties so that one day, maybe, we could be friends. I wanted to attach a copy of the letter she sent me, but shit, without her permission, that wouldn't be cool. So, here's my reply to a letter you will probably never see.



Dear Katie,



it was good to talk to you too. I felt a lightness today that was simply not there yesterday. I felt like I could just lighten up a little bit and play with maia (a seven year old on the land) and just be happy in the moment.

I dreamt about you all night last night. Dream after dream you were there. The last dream I remember, we went to this woman, together, and I signed an agreement to really let you go. You took me to her, and said, maybe this person can help. And she felt like a... spirit guide... sort of binding me to really agree to give you space. She looked at me with these intense eyes like, "Mike, you have to do this." and it penetrated right through me, yet I felt strangely comfortable around her, and she was very familiar. ..... yet, in the midst of my dream I was just so happy you were there, with me. I felt like I could just talk to you and be myself and feel whatever I was feeling, and you were still there, you were still there beside me, and I felt loved by you, like you were in my life to help me, and help me understand that everything's going to be okay.

Just your presence. just your presence.



After I signed that contract, I woke up with the sun. And reality really settled in. Even in my dream I was just happy to be hanging out with you. ANd though it was intense to wake up to not being able to talk to you, I felt this motivation to practice. And to be good to myself. I just talked to Miles, and I was talking to him about how I was dreaming about the ocean. At the end of the conversation, he said, "Stay up, man. Don't let that shit get to you too much. Do what you can do." and I said, "That's all I can do."

I have had mutiple conversations today about how I have these tools... on the one hand, I have this view of real wakefulness through this situation, of a seed of really experiencing my pain, and allowing it to wake me up. It's interesting, because when I feel this intense pain, and analyze it (have you read my blog yet?) and just feel it, let it slow me down, I can feel this awareness, that's not really me, but there's this sense of an observer just watching my life. And at the same time, there's this real sense of lashing out, of acting on these painful emotions, of really feeling overwhelmed by the whole situation. and feeling like I am going to die from it. My point basicly is, is that I have a choice in how to react to a pain that is inevitable. The pain will be there no matter what, but my only choice is how to relate with it. and this, in my view, is the absolute clearest understanding/experience of Buddhism that one could possibly have... maybe. I don't really know, but this seed of wakefulness is always there.


I miss you, and I love you. And I wish that I wasn't afraid that expressing these things just pushes you more away. in this moment, it feels okay to express these things, maybe just because right now I'm not engulfed in my worry to get you back, and I don't want to have to worry about the right things to say to give you space... I just want to be me....

So should I send this to you? Is sending this to you not giving you space? I don't know... But how can I worry about pushing you more away if you're already gone. Somehow, that seed of hope just creates more suffering.

But, I love you, so I want to respect your wishes of space. So maybe I won't send this to you. I'll just put it on my blog. Because I do love you, and I want to give you respect. And I guess, really, the best way of showing that is to give you space. And I honestly don't know if sending you this is doing that.

Ah, Samsara.

I don't want to run away, yet I don't want to really face it.

I want to go to Maui with Miles and Ben. (Seriously. I'm probably going to do this after the end of the summer... dreaming about the vastness of the ocean and that type of freedom of being on a boat).

I want to wake up.

I want to not want anymore and just live and breathe and love it all.

Do what you can do.

That's all you can do.

The Rollercoater Ride of Self

While my last post felt incredibly optomistic, or well, just like the situation might be workable, I am still having to feel these painful emotions pretty much all day, every day. I am no doubt incredibly attached to the presence of Katie, and I can honestly admit that I have become attached to her. After three years, this seems pretty reasonable. And it is pointing to the fact that I was using her somehow to fulfill a part of myself that I normally have repressed. I am attracted to those type of people that have a sense of independence about relating with the world and with their lives, those individuals that value their time alone in such a way that their very identity relies upon creating this space for themself. Artists, it seems, value this like its their food. When I think about how I was raised, it begins to make sense... that I value connection more than space, that I am worried that if I don't have connection, I won't feel loved. When I am close to my family, I have been loved. In those periods of time when I felt like I needed to create space, to be out on my own, I have been punished. Without sounding too much like a victim, I am just trying to acknowledge those vulnerabilities that are at my core, those things that I will probably be dealing with for the rest of my life until I die. And the crazy deal about the whole situation is that I'm not really trying to improve myself, or get rid of these vunerabilities, because they are so deep that they have become a part of my subconscious, and will probably be triggered by various people and situations for the rest of my life. The trick is how I relate to them, how I choose to interact with these incredibly painful emotions and feelings that arise when my vulnerabilities are triggered. I can either repress them, act out on them, or watch them, feel them and really just be there with it... I realize that there are some very dark parts of me that arise when I feel these vulnerabilities get triggered. Fundamentally, I am incredibly scared to not have this type of connection. And so, when this happens I react with either deep sadness or depression, or furious anger and resentment towards the person who is triggering all this painful stuff. It's really like I feel like I am going to die, so there is a part of me that is acting out of survival mode to keep its existence. And this is the closest experience I have of my ego, of that sense of self that needs these very dramas to survive. And so when it is threatened, it becomes more extreme in its intensity, and from this I can totally understand how lovers have killed each other. To feel this type of annihilation, there's a part of me that wants to annihilate whatever is the cause of its own death. And it's true, a part of me has to die, if I am going to go through this, and actually learn from it, and ultimately become more awake. Eckhart Tolle says that the ego only exists in time, and it's so interesting because I find myself constantly worrying about the future and dwelling on the past, when I feel this pain... I think about this summer, and all of the sexual energy that comes with the summer staff, and just thinking about Katie hanging out with, making out with, fucking some other dude, and it creates so much anger, so much resentment, and so much sadness that I feel that I am going to die. Then I think about how, just a few days ago, she was sleeping in my bed on a cold night, and her warmth kept me alive in our cold house. And it's suffering, it's absolute suffering.

And I know that dwelling in these fantasies is suffering. And it's crazy because we all have the experience about thinking about the future and dwelling on the past, but most times, these experiences don't affect me the way they are right now. And really, the only experiences of not suffering these days are when I am taking each experience and just being with that. LOTS of sitting is definately in order. Because it's a practice to be that present, to keep coming back to the present moment,, and yet the more this happens, the more my ego-structure pulls out all these tricks to survive.

At least I have a view of how it could be. I can imagine being able to accept, over and over the realness and reality of my present situation, and actually loving Katie in a way where I don't have to protect myself. I think one of my only experiences of actually doing this has been with my sister, and a few of my close friends. It doesn't matter how my sister acts, what type of life she leads, even if she can't always experess her love toward me, or even always being there for me. I love her, and will continue to love her no matter what, and really I just want her to be happy, however that looks like for her. Why can't I do this with Katie? She needs space, this is what she values and cherishes. She might even need some other guy to create happiness and openness in her life. Why can't I just wish the best for her, no matter what, even if she isn't showing this same love towards me?

I'm being honest when I say that I can't really do that yet. But, somehow, when I aspire to just love her, without conditions, when I choose to focus on how much I really care about this person, some space arises in the situation and in my heart.

I woke up this morning to a clear blue sky, sun shining, warmth on my back. Within an hour heavy winds brought in a snow storm, and now it's cold and snowing. And I look at my window, and the snow is dripping off the roof, melting already into the ground. I can already see the edge of the storm, blue sky on the horizon. How quickly the weather changes up here.

Life is in motion. Born out of motion, sustained through motion, ended by motion.

These feelings have their own life. They arise, burn and burn, but they fall away. And arise, and burn and fall away... and arise and BURN and yeah, fall away. It's just that I on't notice this process. It looks as if it's all just one never-ending BURN right now. But it's not.

I feel.... pain. It comes out as loneliness, depression, anger, resentment. But, it's all the same sensation. pain. Drive all blames into one.

Ah, life. ah, life.

I feel it in my chest.

Even though I haven't written in a long time, I've had a lot going on. And one of the reasons I started this blog, was to write no matter what. Whether my life was exciting, happy, painful, or just plain boring, this practice of writing and creating something, or just recording and processing, is somehow useful, and interesting.

To feel pain and not run away. To accept whatever's happening, just accept it, and keep coming back to the reality of how things are, to the reality of the current situation, to the feelings and sensations in my body. To know the difference between feeling a sensation and letting your thoughts run away with it, interpreting it, creating stories, fantasies, nightmares, and instead just feeling it, feel that sensation in your body, and when thoughts come, when tears come, stay with it, and see if it kills you, or see if it just flares up and burns out like a match.

So, Katie moved out. She's pretty much gone. The house feels, well a bit odd, things are missing on the walls, on the shelves, in the closet. There's all of this negative space in the house where Katie and her stuff used to be, like a constant reminder of that void I feel in myself, but also, reminding me of the reality of the situation. I am finding that when I struggle with it, when I wish things were different, when I begin to wish that Katie was still here, lying in bed with me, it makes existence incredibly hard, and I feel like I really am going to die. Yet, in feeling the same pain, that is created from the same situation, the same house, the same empty space on the walls, the same coldness in bed, and actually accepting the situation, I can live. I can actually live well, and slowly, somehow ease the struggle.

I am incredibly sad. I feel tightness in my chest. The house needs work, now. I am now living by myself. I am single again. I haven't kissed another girl in over three years. I feel insecure about attracting other women. There is mystery all around. Can I accept this? Can I accept all of this? ????................................

Well, yeah, I can. If I look at my life with open eyes, that's what I see, this is what I'm feeling. And while it hurts, I don't actually have to suffer. Crazy. There is so much space now, that I don't know how to feel it. Yet, when I think about the dunes, or think about traveling through India, or think about just living here, all there is is open space, and you can either freak out and try to gain some reference points, or you can just fuckin let go, and feel what it feels like to be engulfed in a mystery.

It's a practice, however. It takes a certain amount of discipline. Because no matter what, I'm going to run into Katie EVERYDAY. I'm going to be living in the house that we shared, EVERYDAY. And I am no doubt going to feel pain and sadness, and probably a slew of other painful emotions for a while, and the initial knee-jerk reaction is to go a bit crazy and struggle struggle struggle. So, it takes a little bit of effort, well probably a whole lot of effort at first, to feel this pain, to accept this situation, and still live live live, and somehow, still be grateful for this life. Just feel it, and let it teach you something. Just feel it, and see if it really kills you. Just feel it, and keep coming back to the sensation itself. See it arise and fall.... unpredicatable as the weather. We can really adapt.

I think the hardest part is accepting that I have to break down this emotional connection I have with Katie so we can eventually be friends. So that means, I really can't rely on her for the type of connection that we shared before. I have to regain that sense of independence. Bring out that sense of actually wanting to be separate. This could be fun.

So, I want to keep writing, because this felt really fuckin good.

I love you, Mike. I love you, too.

Peace.

I don't know what to say...

But I guess I'll just start writing anyway...

Spring is coming, and everything seems to be waking up around me. Trees seem to breathe more, fuller breaths.... buds on every bush, and today, I'm comfortably wearing a warm-up jacket. It smells like soccer season.

I can remember when I first moved up here that I would really feel the seasons. Growing up in Colorado, each season is usually pretty tangible, you can feel the momentum of the earth's rotation, and watch the stars in the sky change, disappear and reappear. I've always been excited about winter because Orion makes his appearance. And in the summer, he's gone. There are soooo many stars up here, even more than you can see at The Ranch. And I really didn't even know the extent until I put my friend's glasses on. I was missing out on so many little pockets of the universe. So much so, that I am going to drop a few bills just so I can look at the stars through a pair of glasses. I can truly function in pretty much every other part of my life without glasses... but to miss out on see the depths of the sky here... I can't miss out on that.

I think I tend to be a pretty spacey dude sometimes. And I feel so at home with just kinda zoning out and looking at the stars till you get a crick in your neck. It's like all my crazy thoughts and neouses, all my worries and weight of just being alive get pulled into the night sky when I look at its vastness. And it doesn't happen when I'm looking at anything in particular, not when I'm admiring Orion, but when I'm just staring at the whole thing, and feeling like the whole thing is staring right back at me.

I think my most vivid experience of this was at the Dunes.

I want to take some of my new friends there. Which is somehow kind of conflicting because that place is so special to me, and my childhood buddies. It's like I want to get permission from Ben and Boomer to actually take people that they don't know to the bowl. But I've been thinking about that spot a lot lately. That is the greatest church I've ever been to. That place is my Sun Dance tree, it's my Vatican, it's my Mecca. And yet, ultimately, why can't every place be like that? Why do we as humans have to distinguish one place from another as more special. I don't know, but it makes sense, somehow, because hanging out in a bar in Boulder, smoking cigarettes and getting drunk is simply not the same, or as meaningful to me, as smoking cigarettes and getting drunk at the dunes.

Winter in Yin... inward, cold, nurturing, honesty... Summer is Yang... extension, outward, bloom.

It's not even Spring time yet, but the past few days have been a taste. It's not so fucking cold every day.

I think it's supposed to snow tomorrow.

Cool.

Here's to the neverending seasons. I appreciate you all.