I’ve had this thing going on lately…since early January,
( if, like Deep Woods, you prefer my stories contain some facts. )
maybe it goes back further…i reckon it does.
when Jorge moved to his sweet-ass house in downtown Jackson (early winter 2013), i brought him over a little painting as a housewarming gift. i hung it inside the front door.
i hated him being over there. but i understood and supported. always. i supported.
One day…as with many days…i had missed calls from him both at home and on my cell. he was desperate to tell me that he thought i should consider getting a both at an Art Fair in Jackson and selling my little paintings. He tried to assure me that people would buy them. He claimed to have enjoyed a great deal of time staring at the painting of the badlands near his front door.
and i attached myself to that. and i practice attaching myself to the bare minimum. i try to limit my attachments and absorb myself in non-permanence. i spend much of my time in “quality time zone” with nothing to show for it.
i stack rocks to watch them tumble
i plant seeds in hopes of harvesting the crop
we walk up hills to walk back down
we prep our meals and clean our dishes
we make our crafts and send them off
our footprint is little
My ego responded when Jorge offered me that nugget. Of all nuggets to attach to…
for a decade, i comfortably deflected attachment to his negativity. every. single. time.
its what kept us tight. i was a strong kind of resilient…and so was he.
…..and so, blah-blah-blah i wanted my paintings back in a non-familiar way.
Non-familiar in that it was on my mind a great deal. i kept inhaling detach-detach-detach, exhaling LET-IT-GO
but it lingered.
i got one at Easter…but the other was still out there.
and then i did let it go. when i got back from the desert i went deeper and it felt better. i was confident that it would make its way back. i was sincere in practicing not-attaching to it….
and i learned today that it is, indeed, coming back. and i am relieved. and i feel weird about that a little. but not really. my self-awareness is genuine enough to know that my love language is QUALITY TIME and second to that, words-of-affirmation. those two paintings will always provide me the safe feeling of being embraced by Jorge within the language of love.
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