Saturn Returns.

Every twenty-eight years, the planet Saturn returns in its orbit around the sun to place it had been when we were born. Every 28 to approximately 30 years, there is a window of time which some people call “Saturn Returns.” According to some, this period of time is ripe with change and opportunity. Usually there are major life changes in this period, either positive or negative, and according to legend, the lessons that we do not learn during this first period of Saturn Returns around our 30^th birthday, we have the opportunity to learn again as we approach 60; and if we’re lucky enough to be healthy for it, again around our mid to late 80s.

In what is proving to be one of the most uncomfortable changes I’m making in this, my period of Saturn Returns, I cancelled my date with the Catholic for tonight, and am finally, after many f’ing years of debate, accepting that a Jewish partner is not only important to me, but necessary.

What makes this choice hard? Or this admittance? Well, it feels like I’m closing a very large shiny door behind which are many large shiny non-Jews. I also have debated whether this is “self-will,” me attempting to shoe-horn myself into a belief that isn’t true or fair, one that says I’ll only date Jews. How closed off is that?

But, the truth, the very hard truth of it is, that it’s the only thing for me to do. I have been down the relationship path with men who are not Jewish (in fact, no serious relationship I’ve ever had has been with someone Jewish). What inevitably happens is that I spend a very large amount of time while in the relationship debating whether it is a “deal-breaker,” until my brain feels like an out of shape yoga participant. Achy, cranky, tired.

Ironically enough, on my date with this Catholic gentleman on Monday, we’d been talking briefly about tattoos, and I said how I’d been delaying my next one, as it’d be a large commitment. That I carry a quote from a Starbucks coffee cup in my wallet which says something like, To commit to something, in work, or in play, is to remove our brain as a barrier to our life.

To commit to this decision, to set down this whirling dervish of questioning … could be a relief. I have never dated women – do I lament that I’ve “cut off” an entire portion of the population? No. I’ve finally come to admit that dating someone taller than me is actually really important to me. And that’s felt like a sacrifice too. But, it’s funny, I’ve been noticing a lot more cute tall men over the last two months...

Because what it all comes down to isn’t about religion or self-will, it’s about abundance. Can I actually let myself believe that if I really do, in my heart of hearts, want to spend a romantic life with someone Jewish, can I believe that there is a tall, attractive, employed, happy, funny, Jewish man out there? Seems like a tall order! (uh, no pun intended.) But, is it? I mean, when I think about the kinds of miracles that I’ve witnessed in my life and in the lives of others, am I still willing to debate the power of what’s possible in this world? When I look at the majority of the community I know as people who have been pulled back from the gates of insanity and death to become working members of society with entirely incredible things to contribute – am I still unwilling to allow myself to believe?

The painful answer is no. I am not unwilling anymore. I have been beaten into a state of reasonableness, I have suffered under the pain of my manic debating society, and I have resigned from that committee. I am willing to commit to the belief that my needs are important. Haven’t I been saying that here for a while? Haven’t I run into places in my professional life where I’ve agreed to things I don’t want, only to have to back out? Haven’t I made a conscious and kind-to-myself decision to not do that anymore?

Isn’t this the same thing? Isn’t this the same cosmic lesson? To listen to myself. To allow my needs to be heard. To be responsible to myself with care, not dismissal. Yes. It is.

And so, here I sit, willing to allow the same consideration to my romantic life that I am newly showing myself in the areas of my professional and creative life, to allow that faith, that sense of fun, and play, and direction, and the firm belief that wherever these bits in the cement are coming from, I can trust that I am being led to a life worth living.

It feels so uncomfortable. Which sort of points out to me that it’s the “right” thing. I’ve resigned before to the "easy" route of accepting whatever’s in front of me, only to end up in pain. This is making a resolute decision to groove a new path. 

A good girl friend reminded me yesterday that crazy things happen when people are supposed to be together, so if this particular gentleman or another non-Jew is actually supposed to be it, he will be. “If it’s meant to be, you can’t fuck it up; if it’s not meant to be, you can’t fix it.”

But ultimately, she also said that she sees this decision as me letting go of the rock in the middle of the river, and allowing myself to float. 

So, here’s to learning the lessons this orbit around. Bring on the miracles.