Holding the High Watch

The best laid plans, right? I had grand ones for this week, then I got sick. I am on the mend, past the worst I think (insert ad for Airborne here [despite others’ nay-saying about its efficacy, I swear by it, and finally stocked up yesterday]).

It has given me the opportunity to nest a little bit; I haven’t cleared my NJ boxes, but I have put up the revised “vision of love” collage. It’s so much better than the last – I wish I’d taken a before photo of the beige yawn it had been! And I have another decorating project I might get to.

I think I know why I got sick – what tipped the scales from ‘minor winter ill-health’ to full-blown ‘duuuude, I don’t feel so good.’ I made out with someone. -- Not that this is karmic retribution or anything, but that he must have been sick too. 

A few days ago, I was in the car with a guy friend of mine. We have a teeny bit of history having been involved for a full 4 hours ;) a few years ago but have remained pretty good friends, sort of sweeping it under the rug. We often talk about our dating lives and such, and as he’s giving me a ride home, we begin to talk about it again, what’s going on, etc, lighthearted, etc.

Except…

I begin to say that I am of two minds lately. The one mind that knows I’m “holding the high watch” as it were for something real, potentially lasting, and ultimately revolutionizing. (Realistic… right? [I do think so actually!]) I tell him about the work I’d been doing via Calling in The One, and about how I am attempting to create my best life, so when I meet someone, I’m fully present and accountable for myself, I’m engaged in a life that makes me happy, and I’m not seeking for someone else to make me happy or to take care of the needs within myself that are actually my responsibility.

This is basically the aim of the book, and of a lot of the spiritual work I do. To become my authentic and most available and active self.

That said,

I am also of another mind. Which says, I’m 30 years old, my bones and ligaments only getting older and less nimble, and these are prime sex years that I feel I’m wasting! It feels like a tragedy to let each day go by without engaging in one of life’s greatest pleasures.

My guy friend says that it sounds like my body is saying one thing and my head is saying another – but I really think it’s everything all at once, to use that phrase again. My heart & head know what I’m doing, holding the high watch, creating space, making room, expanding my life in positive ways. They/I know that this “lull” is temporary, and perhaps in fact necessary to sort of flush the system, or simply not clog it with anything less than awesome.

In his car out front of my apartment, I ask, Has this whole conversation been your way of saying you want to make out? and he laughs, I'm not that transparent, am I?

But, being a hot-blooded human and woman, and knowing the course of the conversation had been headed here, and having actively participated in it, we make out.

And it’s fun and hot for a full ten minutes or so, and then I know I have to leave. I don’t want to sleep with him, though, surely it would be fun, but I am very familiar with fun of this sort, this particular sort, which looks like neither of us actually being romantically attracted to each other whatsoever, and I am also very familiar with the … blasé sort of let-down feeling as you each pick up your discarded socks and clunk through some small talk and try to figure out how quickly you can get out of there.

Sex is temporary. Love is not.

So, despite the “tragedy” of “wasted sex years,” I am clear on what I am heading toward. I am clear on the woman and partner I want to be. Clear-ish. I know it’s fluid. But I also know I am very much done (she says, knowing things may always change) with vapid sex.

Besides, Good Vibrations appreciates my business.