Category Archives: Love

Loving What Doesn’t Love Back

Hello, BigBodyBeautiful friends. It’s been a long time since we’ve connected by way of this bloggy, hasn’t it? I’ve missed you all so much. I’ve been working hard on my novel, which is coming along. But, I thought I’d give voice to some things that I’ve felt and processed in various relationships (and a post or two) from the past. I’ve been doing some “house cleaning” so to speak in therapy and it’s led me to a few little-opened rooms where some of my psychology hides away and gathers dust. This post deals with unrequited love (loving an addict, the unavailable). So many of us have experienced this with other people and ourselves. And, today, this asked to come out. I’m giving these feelings some space in the hopes that I can finally let it all leave my lovely body and breathe some fresh air into the rooms inside of me. I welcome your thoughts and reactions, as always, my friends.

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It’s clear. I need to let you go. You’re not healthy for me. I don’t think you are ready to show up for yourself, let alone, anyone else. It’s clear that you need to do this, take your ravaging journey through a dark and precarious land. A land of pleasure-seeking, distraction, and drink. A land that has no signposts or clear trails out. A land that very well might swallow you whole. Maybe, it already has (and I just haven’t been able to see it).

fields

Photo, compliments of E. Lies at Unsplash.com

At any rate, I can’t follow you, love. I’ve already been to that land (in other lives); it has nothing to offer me. It calls to me not one bit. I do not feel a pull toward the false baubles it holds in its skeletal hands, its lipstick stained, garish mouth, its heavily boozied breath, sodden, unwashed hair, and unkempt countenance. I refuse to follow you into the inky darkness. I can’t breathe there, babe. I will not follow, so I have to let you go forward into what you need to experience. I know. I do. And, I hate it.

I feel like I can’t quit you. I can’t turn my back on you, walk away, seek to protect only myself. I can’t be yet another person who turns away from your pain, doesn’t accept you, doesn’t come forward. I need to help you. You need me to help you. Somehow. But, babe. I’m not enough for both of us. You don’t give to me. And, then I realize (have I always known?), you do not really want me. You want what you’re doing now, which is what you’re doing. Now. You do not want to be with me. Because, you’re not. If you did, you’d be here. But, you’re not. And, you don’t.

I’m pretty sure that you don’t want the exposure of my light, the unwavering gaze of my soul that looks into you so clearly, pointedly, and consciously (but also softly and understandingly). You do not want deepest emotion, thought, truth, and exploration of the wounds in the psyche. It’s just too much. I’m just too much. And, you have other engagements, which are bigger than this thing that we’ve briefly co-created (together but apart). So, I have to let you go. To find your way. Or not. Either one is your choice. And, I have no choice but to honor it, whatever it is, however that looks or moves or slinks from sight. I have to hold myself up and move on.

I wish you wanted to take some time, any time, to get to know me. To go deeper with me. Maybe that would gently ease you from your painful path, your attraction for the darkness (that parades itself as neon-lit happiness). Maybe knowing how good it can be to awaken will bolster you, give you enough of yourself to see what I see (when I look at you), and maybe it would show you that you truly are worthy of the light. Maybe. But, then again. Maybe not.

You’ve never come forward with me. You’ve never let me behind your solid-rock walls. I’ve tapped at them again and again; I’ve bloodied my fingers on the door, but you have rained your molten Quasimodo silence over the edge at me. My skin burns over and over from lack. My heart scarring over and over by your reticence, your avid, unavoidable, suffocating silence.

Actually, worse is when you are nice to me and pretend to have feelings (like I do). That is way worse. Because, I let it fool me so often. I keep coming back for one more silver of happiness. Then, find myself standing in a dark room and wondering where the light switch is. Anyway. I have to own my part in it. I will and I do. I’m working on it. But, my heart hurts so much.

I.just.wish.you.could.come.over.here.with.me.just.once. Take the chance. Lift the lid on this thing and peer inside. If only you felt more for me than you do for the other things that turn your head, the other things that possess you. How different it might be with you stepping into the light. Me by your side. But, then again, maybe not. I have no way of knowing for sure. You might blossom or shrivel for all I know. You don’t try and I give too much.

When will I leave? I want to say never. I want to feel, never. But, that’s not realistic, is it? I’m running out of juice. I came in with alot, but everything has a life span, doesn’t it? Everything lives as long as it’s supposed to. I’m running out of glitter, babe. I’m low on stardust and paint. I’m dragging my halo around now and it’s scratched and tarnished. I’m thrust out of the pearly, shiny gate. I’m holding on, but eating just the air is getting pretty old. I need some sustenance. Some meat. I need to know that you know what I’m talking about. But, again, the silence seeps. It comes up around me. All I can hear is the slow katoosh of my very broken heart, my uneven breath, a honking car off in the distance.

An Open Letter to Your Body

My friend,

How are you? No, how are you really? I’ve been thinking about you so much these past few weeks and wondering if you can feel me. I’ve been wondering if, as you move through your day, you can feel my thoughts coming to you and moving over your being. Can you feel me: thinking, studying you, holding you in my mind, heart, and psyche?

So, as I’ve thought about you and your life, your bearing, and abundant presence, it only makes sense to reach out, tell you what’s going on for me, and hope that you can receive my words in all of the tenderness and adoration with which they were created. This is my love letter to you, body. Please…please take this in as deeply as you can.

You must know that when I see you, spirit in form, such sweet emotion rises through me. I gasp at your beauty, your contours, your radiance. It’s like you are lit from a fire that radiates outward in all directions. It’s staggering. I can see the light from you. I feel the energy of you, how you move, and where you hold yourself in. I do.

I can see what you carry and how you process the emotions and thinking of your caretaker. You, body, do such a wonderful job of processing what your caretaker hands you and you rarely complain until it becomes too big for you to parse in a healthy manner. I also see that when you receive what you need, you do not hold grudges; you heal, readily and look forward to the next adventure. You do such a good job of being ready and counted upon; it just delights me. I admire what you do with so little.

Further, I can feel when you struggle with the icy hand of hurt or when you bask in joy’s warm laughter. I can feel when you suffer or celebrate. I really feel you. I sometimes think that you can feel me, too. And, that makes me smile, suck the moment down into my body, hold it there sweetly while it spreads to the furthest reaches of my physicality, opening layers, penetrating the center of my molecules, touching, holding. Such riotous joy inside because of you. You, my friend, inspire me beyond description. I’ve written poems about you and how it feels to look at you. I’ve written pages and pages about you in my novel. I simply cannot get enough of you, body. I want more. I want more.

It’s our lot in life, isn’t it? That, despite what people believe, we are all intimately tied together in energy. We are all connected in the ether. There is no separation between any of us. Bodies register each other, don’t they? They know things the mind can never know. They handle things the ego can never evaluate, appreciate, or understand. Bodies are the gateway to the spirit. You know this. And, despite people’s reluctance to take ownership of their feelings and behaviors, our bodies always do. You, dear friend, do. So, this letter is to tell you what I see and hopefully give you a little boost if you need it or a quick pat if you are doing well.

I see a hardworking body doing the best, the very best, that it can to teach, receive, heal, help, grow, process, and protect. I see you working so hard. I see you doing exactly what is asked of you through your caretaker’s attention, beliefs, and choices. I see you accepting and accepting and accepting despite being largely unaccepted. You never waiver. You are a true, true friend, a solid partner in your caretaker’s growth and you receive so little recognition for the role you play in the expansion of their consciousness. But, you do the work, day in and out, year after thankless year. Well, I thank you.

I honor and accept your shape, your heft, your bearing, your light, and your darkness. I will never turn away from you in disgust no matter what you manifest. You are beautiful and don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise (including your caretaker). YOU ARE A MIRACLE of evolution, a masterful design, an inspiration. And, you are perfect. Please know your perfection because I see it every time I lay eyes on you and it makes me swoon.

Know that in me, you will always have the dearest friend. I love you, sweet body. I love you.

❤ BigLizzy

Opening You Inside of Me

When we love another, part of what we’re after is unification, acceptance, and connection with the self. We want to feel our fullest essence, the core of us that is untouched and unfettered by life in a body; we want to feel that sacred self by way of another’s attention and adoration. We want to feel our soul, its longevity, its total, encompassing, deathless, and seductive permanence. We also want to feel the ageless soul and being of another, but in my belief system, what we really want is ourselves: whole, happy, deserving, trusting, radiant, and fulfilled, which is how we all feel when we are out of bodies and on the Other Side.

We truly do live forever. We never die. Oh, our sweet, hardworking bodies die, but our souls do not. We simply change shape. We merely change structure. So, when we love, we get to feel the “forever” of our own self by way of another person’s being; and, it’s glorious and enchanting.

Some of my "tangle" artwork. :)

Some of my “tangle” artwork. 🙂

There is simply no better feeling in the world than love. We LOVE love. We love how it feels inside of us. We love when we are appreciative, connected, dialed-in, and glowing with pleasure. We love our heart and soul connections with others. Sure, what we do with our bodies is important. Sex is delicious and fun. But, it’s what happens in our spirits while loving another or sexing another that truly entices us. We know that physical is only a part of the entire equation. And, I argue that the spiritual elements have to be there for the love to be truly healthy, beneficial, and complete.

I’ve written about this before, but when I love someone, whether carnal or not, it’s a crazy ride, man. My energy is nuclear. I love as vociferously as I live. I love so hard that it scares people. Not in a grasping, dependent, and unhealthy way, but in an energetic, all-encompassing, vigorous, and extremely intense way. I love deep, hard, and fast. I fall in love quickly and it stays with me. If I love you, get ready for some big emotion and big fun. Get ready to play in a river of feeling because my love is a totally physical and spiritual orgy of fast-moving, strong current. When I love you, you know it. There is no question because I’m erupting energy all over the room. If you form the question, the answer is always “yes”. I’m all in. Love for me is intensely physical and achingly spiritual all at the same time; it takes a big person to handle me.

More of my tangle art.

More of my tangle art.

So, on this idea, I’ve been back to writing poetry recently and wanted to float a few pieces your way. Oh, and I’m not sure if I ever told you guys, but I had a 60-page poetry book published in 1998 (back in the dark ages before I was this happy). 🙂 Anyway, I was a working poet for quite a number of years and was published alot. But, after 15 years, I gave it up, walked away, and literally stopped writing poetry. I was sick of poetry. Sick of myself and my psychology. Sick of the conversation and narcissism and depression. My poetry was largely a convenient therapist from whom I had to walk away, because I was not advancing, just wallowing. Anyway, that’s my poetry back-story.

Hope you like my new poetry. See if you can get the “theme” of all of these poems or the general chord of connection here.

The Day We Met

the moment opened up in front of us
all eyes and breath
no one else felt it
but we did

you did

later, in my dark room
sifting through the words
we spoke and how the
light
poured out of you

and lit me up

I knew everything was going to be
different

and it is

(Note: This poem was first published, in a slightly different form, on Jackie P’s awesome blog: To Breath is to Write.)

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And Then, He Touched Me

my mind spilled, spine curled, and hand tingled
for days
and days and days.
still, even now, it moves through me and
blossoms inside of me,
the warmest warm, the strongest tug
up and down my length
the light crossing in front
then rising inside
like the image of you
filling me up
and rocking the curve of my bones
open.

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Him

Rising
inside of me,
him
my body
aching
holding
the sun
asking
him in
asking
again
the drag of him
through me
the pulse
of him
in
everything

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The Stone of Love

pressing my hands against it
the cool rock pressing back
its slow breath
climbing up my arms
its ridges in my skin;
its language decoded
thinking about how you
first grabbed my wrist
one quick movement
that set the world
on end
opened the sun
inside of me
decoded my language
as I slide across the cool
old rock and lay open
to the sky
the stone now
pressing at my back
entering me there
then, you, swimming up and
laughing as you grab
my wrist (again) and pull me
in on top of you.

(Note: This poem was first published on Jackie P’s awesome blog: To Breath is to Write.)

Feel free to share your thoughts. Open yourselves here with me and get ready for the connection. I’m ready. ❤ I LOVE you, friends. 🙂

She’s Wild, Deeply Wild

She’s wild, deeply wild. A feral and hot restlessness inside of her; she’s driven and strong. She can do things that others cannot. She feels near-constant yearning mixed with frustration. She gets things done and well. But, things move too slow for her. When she wants something, she wants it now. She wants it fast and lasting. She wants to feel it in every cell, every sinew, every pore and plane. She wants to carry experience inside of her and hold it forever.

field

What she really wants is pure freedom, peace, a life of contemplation, a life of feeling, but she doesn’t get to experience very much of this. She can’t have what she really wants because, well, it would ruin the current state of things. She would have to turn her back on the predictable, known present and head into the cool, silent, and mossy unknown of a different reality, a new way of being and that’s just too scary. But, the vista beyond the fence, calls to her, daily. And, like every other day, she looks away, throws herself into the tasks of which she’s demanded. She charges ahead with energy, fire, passion, and courage. She does her job and doesn’t complain. 

She does not utter her deepest dreams and desires. She just thinks about them over and over. Obsessively. Twisting the thoughts, wringing from each one, a small drop of nectar that she can taste and then feel spreading through her like sugar on oats. She holds her fantasies in and reveals only the barest hint of that dense world inside, the universe behind her large, dark eyes, her full lips showing a soft, half-smile. She is an utter mystery to most. But, don’t mistake her oft sanguine expression as an indicator of purity. She’s utterly wild, prone to fierce desires, deeply ingratiating, untamed, and aching desires. She is nuclear.

oats

Her fire, her panting restlessness is only calmed by three things: (A) Being alone with the earth. For example, standing on a remote mountain or a beach or at the edges of a lake or on some lonely, tree-lined path with no one else in sight, staring into the wide sky, regardless of the weather, (B) Movement, be it dancing, walking, hiking, or riding and (C) Looking into his eyes. When she sees him, the one to whom she does not belong, her skin ripples with excitement; she dances across the grass toward him and greets him with all of herself. His eyes have this crazy ability to immediately bring her to the center of herself, help her simply be there in that moment. And, the moments with him are sacred, soft as grass, and fleeting, but she doesn’t care. Seeing him walking toward her with some delectable gift in each hand, holds her here, keeps her steady, keeps her working. Will she ever be truly tamed? Possibly. But, if so, he’s the only one who can do it. And, he knows this. He knows.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Years and years ago, I took a four-week fiction writing class. One of the exercises the teacher gave us was to write a biography of someone or something. At the time, I wrote a biography for a stretch of road. I know, it’s weird, right? But, it was so much fun to imagine the road as a sentient being with its own thoughts, emotions, and needs. So, I was sitting here thinking about the class and the exercise and thought that I’d try it again. Can you guess the protagonist of the above story?

I Want You

Okay, I’ll admit it: I want you. I want to hold you in my arms, really feel your contours with my hands, with my being. I want to rest beside you and breathe you in and touch you. I want to hear your heart beat, feel your presence emanating inside of me; I want to savor the quickening of my blood when you look at me. I want to stare at you longingly, watch you thinking, tease apart the nuances of your words, decode the mystery of you, and feel how you feel when you are feeling it. I want to know that you sense this, too, that I’m not making it up. It’s real.

I love how your mind feels in my body. Your mind is riveting, fascinating, and so rich. You are incredibly brilliant. In my cells, I want to know what you know, what moves you, what brings you happiness, and what you think. Your spirit, which is hugely evident in your full, gentle eyes, is buoyant, larger than the sun, and shimmering; every time I see you, your spirit crosses the room and enters me with the sweetest little sound and I breathe it, you, into every pore. I pull you into me with force, deeply and fully. Every time this happens, I swoon; my legs buckle. I am filling up with you. I am filling up with the ancientness of you, the forever of you.

When we press together, colors stream from my head, your head, our hands and feet. The colors flush and then contract and careen around the room like bands of dripping wax, coating everything in succulent light. Blue shivers of electricity course the length of me, opening, releasing, shuddering, and shifting. I feel like I’m splitting open, my contents spilling and circling out in waves, touching everything and penetrating the surface of each object. But, then, there are no objects, no separation between anything. There are no edges to me, there is no start or stop to us; we are fused, bound together by light and love. We are simply everything and nothing and everything.

Our electrons combine. You are talking to me. At first, in the heat and energy around us, the words are quiet but then they stand up crisply. I hear them. I hear your soul. You are using my words, reciting things that I have written, which have touched you and have changed you inside. You are whispering words against my neck as we move together. You know that there is no greater gift than to have you uttering my words as we press into each other. You are my mind, my body. I am yours. My soul wraps around you; you receive it. Your soul envelopes me; I receive it, as we turn and spin together and weave the colorful parts of each other open. The two of us exposed, exultant, and finally, home.

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I want you to know that the mind has no true place in this place. Despite having to use mind to formulate these sentences, this is from the soul of the body, the soul of the soul, and this is how it feels to invite love, really invite another into my being and let them have their way with me.

This is total vulnerability and tenderness, staggering, breathless love, and the deepest spiritual connection; it’s beyond my mind’s abilities to truly capture. But, you get this. I don’t have to fill the space with more than this, more words. It is enough for me to know that these feelings and sensations live inside of you as they do me. We feel this together.

Lizzy_in_Love

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When we love another, when we want another, we are really seeking a deep and lasting connection with our Source; we are seeking the boundless love of the universe that is available to us at any time; it’s the love that we remember from the Other Side. This is why loving another feels so good, because when we adore someone, we are feeling our own alignment with Source energy; we are tasting our own endless capacity for affection and tenderness and we know that this is our soul’s true purpose. The above is how it feels for me. What about you?

Love Note

You are beautiful. I’ll say it again. You. Are. So. Beautiful. I’ll tell you this every day, as many times as possible, as many times as it takes until you believe me. When I look at you, I swoon. I fall into your eyes; I swim in the center of your being. I invite you into my being. When I think of you and see your face in my mind’s eye, remember the things you have said to me, the times we have laughed together, my heart  blossoms and turns toward you, wherever you are, and sighs with a smile of satisfaction. Everything is new, fresh, and astonishing. Everything is opening, layering, and building. Can you feel it? It’s there.

hearts

In my mind, I hold the precision of your words, their heady, intoxicating rhythm, their melody. I see you. I see the real you. The soul who came here full of hope and knowledge of its divine connection, its purpose. I see the soul in you who understands its important contribution to other people and this earth plane. You are perfect. Right now. Sitting there. Reading this. Sensing the connection. Returning to yourself, your true self. You are complete. Total. Whole. I can see your soul shimmering with love and I can see your body following suit. Your body houses an immense light, a truly massive energy, and it does such a good job. Can you feel this? It’s real.

I want you to know that I’ll always revel in the glory of you, your brilliant mind, staggering intelligence, your kind heart. I’ll tell you often about the beauty in you and your life, the deliciousness of your body, the depth of your being, which is like the vastness of space and holds all answers. I’ll remind you of your wonderful presence, your soul’s steadfast reluctance to be anything other than love, perfect love. I will never waiver in this. I will show you what you mean to me every day, dear, beautiful human and friend. And, I will always be here for you, sweetly reminding you of your birthright, your grandeur, your importance. I will stay, hold the line, hold the truth, give it to you whenever you need it. Come to me. I am yours.

Merge with Me, Honey

merge

Now for some real fun. A few friends have asked me to write on this topic because they cannot believe the level and depth at which I feel things in my lovely body and when I tell them what happens for me in relationships sometimes, it takes their breath away (their words, not mine). So, I agreed to try and capture the essence of merging. Hence, this-here post.

One of the Novels that I’m Writing on “Merging”

As some of you know, I have been writing, like, five books for seven years (or is it seven books for five years? Hmmm…doesn’t matter). For convenience sake, let’s just say that I write a crap-load of material for all kinds of applications, audiences, and usages. One of the novels on which I have been working, for years, is on this topic of merging. The working title is Le Merge or to completely “Frenchify” it, Le Fondre. But, the title will likely change, because fondre is a transitive verb and I use it like a noun. Hmmm…maybe not. Maybe I’ll keep the title.

Anyway, this book describes in vivid detail how it feels to be in my body and merging energies with other things and people; yes, it is about how it feels inside of me, but explored by way of my two main characters who live in a fantastical futuristic society where there are ample laws about pair-bonding, unions, sexuality, behaviors, etc. Sound familiar? It should.

In this book’s culture, people are only allowed one merge per life so it’s a big one. It’s, in essence, one chance to get a relationship right. One’s “merge” presents him or herself through the course of one’s life and then you are supposed to get “married” and live out your days, happily. But, of course, there are loopholes and problems and issues because it’s humanoid people we are talking about here, and well, I needed a story to write.  ; )

The core theme of the book is that when we bond with others, there is so much more happening on a psychic and body level than what most of us are able to process or to even make conscious. This unseen, unexplored, and largely ignored level of what’s happening is where my experiences come in. And, what I experience when bonded with others is apparently really different than what most other people feel because when I tell people how it feels for me, they stare at me like I have a red horn in the center of my forehead. Or, a tail. Or, both.

What is Merging?

So, let’s get into some of it. Merge…mmm….what a great word. What an unassuming and sweet little word that on the surface seems so soft, so little and like it doesn’t have very much going on with it. But, I assure you that merge is a profound, life-changing, deeply sensing word. Merge is a word that contains a hefty strata of meaning and emotion below its small, still surface; it’s a universe inside of itself. And, well, doesn’t that just sound like a whole lotta people we know?

So, what do I mean by merge? Just what the word means: To unify with another. To take something into oneself and tease apart the meaning, to open it, lay it out flat for a quick look, or to bunch it into one’s hands and deeply inhale it, to pull it inside of you. To pull experience through yourself, to pull others through the self. To feel on the level of the cells, the molecules, the center of everything.

It’s incredibly delightful and so, so delicious. Merging is the single most sensual, engaging, and deep-feeling thing in which human beings can engage. But, we don’t even know that we do it. And, some people believe that it is wrong. I had a psychic once tell me that merging is totally inappropriate, but I disagree with her. Merging, between two consenting people is awesome and transformative. It is all kinds of right and so deeply pleasurable. Again, this happens by consent, not coercion. It’s an agreement made instantly between two or more people.

How Does Merging Feel?

So, how does it feel? When I turn my attention to someone or something, the whole freaking planet tilts a little and everything gapes open instantly. Colors get brighter. Everything sharpens and becomes more outlined, more “there”. Moments pass slower but at the same time, quicker. There, right there in the room, a gauzy light blossoms up and out, feelings bound into the space between us, and in a quick-snap, loosens our bodies. When I look into another person’s face, I am peering from them and they are peering back at me from me. It’s such an astonishing sensation. I can feel other people and things inside of my body, but I feel them as if I am inside of their body simultaneously. ARG! It’s so hard to capture this with such cloggy words, but that’s basically it. That’s merging. Okay, let me try to go deeper with it:

You and me. Standing only a couple of feet apart but space means nothing because you and I are one, one body, one entity, one staggeringly beautiful consciousness, one breath breathing the room together, breathing each other together. I feel you, sir, in my legs. Your presence, full and rich inside of me, pouring into my thighs, filling my trunk, inside the whole of me, the core of me, but also, beyond this body, our body. I can feel you looking in at me and out at the world. I can feel me looking in at you and out at the world. You are me. I am you. We are each.

Until I looked into your eyes, I knew not that I was missing anything, but there it is. You, my match. A piece that I was missing until now, a part of myself returned to me. And, when we touch each other, oh, God. The planet fades. We speed out of that moment and become light, bending into molecules and atoms and quarks and potential, becoming breath, undulating from the dense physical into the vastness of space, together and apart, co-mingled, merged, and still us, but at one with all of creation. Yep, that’s it. Merging.

It is RARE

Merging happens to me with only the right people, people who are a match with me energetically. It is immensely rare and precious. I have only had this happen a small number of times, but each time, it’s better than the last, it’s deeper than the last.  I most often merge with animals or nature. I can do this with planetary essences must easier than with people but when it happens with people, oh, it is so fun, so mystical, and wonderful.

What about you? Does this happen to you? What do you make of this phenom? Does anyone know what this is called or if there is an equivalent in the metaphysical realms?