Encounters (take two)

Sitting here on the eve of what will be two months to the day…sipping the most delicious hot chocolate, with swirls of underlying dark tastiness (and not too sweet) in NW3, in the Duke of Hamilton pub to be precise. Oh, how the other half live. I love Hampstead, the well-natured-ness of it, free of the middle class fight and angst. Generally, people here have money, lots of it, but what seems to be missing from the air with which I grew up in South West London is that middle class agitation of the ‘get, get, get’, the tunnel vision that ‘want’ and ‘gain’ create, the ‘ag’ etched across everyone’s face as they’ve worked damn hard to get where they want to be in this rat race. But which ultimately, sadly, is in many cases never enough. You can always have more. And then I will be happy. Or so many believe.

Cockapoos reign here. Lovely dogs, but come on, you wouldn’t want to play a Where’s Wally contest with them. They all look the same, dammit.

Anyway, it’s been a while. 70 days, in fact, since my last post. Time flies so quickly. Throughout the past 6 months, it’s been amazing to note just how much things can change, both internally (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) and externally (life itself) in a matter of weeks. In the past 70 days things have most definitely changed. Surprisingly, painfully at times, but mostly, wonderfully, so.

I’m still trying to get through each day, but miracles, they need to be celebrated, don’t they?

So, the eve of two months to the day of what you may ask?

Let me tell you. Better, let my past-self tell you through some quotes of a post I had planned to publish on October 7th. The situation changed as my mind did during those days, and fate it seems decided for me that the post would need to be re-hashed, as things didn’t turn out as I had expected....

My heart won, and looking back, I’m glad it did.

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Encounters, 7th October 2022

I sat at home a week ago, not believing my eyes. The woman I love sat in front of me, listening to my ‘healing manifesto’ as I delved into the whys and wherefores of why we had come together once more, what a Twin Flame relationship is, what our situation is or was, and, how we could move forward, together. Whilst I wrote it, it had flowed, so when that happens I tend to just ‘do’. It came for a reason, so when those moments happen I just try and take that flow of energy forward to its conclusion.

I think back and remembering it feels like recalling a vivid dream, something so real yet so surreal that it couldn’t possibly be. I’ve been doing dream work recently, maybe that’s why a dream is a fitting description. Something that surely can’t have happened.

But it did. It happened. And it was beautiful. ‘Amazing’ (to coin a popular adjective).

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My dreams have improved in their quality recently, my subconscious seems more rested. I’ve had some respite from anxious thoughts than burn around insecure and wounded scenarios. Dreams are actually a strong sign of progress. They are vivid, full of crazy possibilities and happenings, yet most appear to tell a story or send a message. I am now curious before heading to bed as to what my night’s sleep will tell me.

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Ultimately my masterplan to heal the relationship wasn’t applied, there’s simply too much in play and our current states of mind, heart and soul still require us to carry on with the journey that we embarked on, alone, some 4 and a half months ago. It was no failure on my part and nor did the outcome surprise me. Maybe what surprised me most was my own strength in admitting that I too was not ready for a relationship. Progress, again, measurable, real, something to be proud of. I am indeed healing. Day by day, bit by bit, page by page, thought and action by thought and action. My body and nervous system are becoming more regulated, knowing that they have me to look after them now.

……

Our journeys, so vastly different in their form, are, for me, so incredibly similar in their aim. The mirroring of each other continues, even while we’ve been continents apart. Our search continues, in my case within, and in her case, without, for healing, enlightenment, space and time to find one’s own soul. One day I’ll write about it all. It’ll make a great story, I’m sure of it.

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The When

Today is the eve of two months to the day that I reached out and made contact, something which I had promised myself I would never do, firstly, out of a need for self-protection, and secondly, because of my respect for her. The rest, they say, is history, but also a story that is unfolding still, in its own, magical, beautiful way. Infuriating in its unpredictability, however. The joys of letting go and trusting in the Universe. Grrr.

Little was I to know, that our encounter would eventually be three, culminating in 11 days of time together that  allowed us to celebrate our love without much of the mutual baggage that ultimately broke the relationship’s hull during that final storm. These three encounters served as an image, an impressionist’s painting of what life could have been for us, had our stories been different.

Our third and final encounter, which lasted 11 days, finished 11 days before the 11th of November. 11, 11, 11/11. As a twin flame, this, whilst making me laugh out loud by the ridiculousness of it all when I noted the days, came as no surprise. It’s just par for the course. A clear sign from so many, that there is something much larger at work here, and always has been, and seemingly, always will be.

EDIT 4th Dec: ….this is my 11th post. Just noticed.

The What

As the days passed, enveloped in each other once more, we were both able to not only discuss but see and experience in the flesh the effects of our journeys so far. I, was certainly surprised, more than that, amazed by how there were suddenly spaces and moments that I had never envisaged possible when we were together – spaces where I could express both boundaries and needs, where they were not only listened to, but accepted and fulfilled with love. What the fuck??? I’d never had this before; needs and boundaries to me were a petrifying thought and by connection things that I had simply never permitted myself, principally because of the historical consequences of them that were scored into my psyche: rejection, punishment or emotional withdrawal and anger.

I feel I mirrored many changes for her too. Offering things I had not been able to previously: freedoms, understanding, security and emotional maturity that seemed so far off only some months ago.

The How

So how did it come about?

I’ll let my past-self explain once more:

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….. Simply put – the Universe did its thing and I was its tool. Energies and signs that built up in me to a crescendo of emotion, static and eventual action. I’m glad they did. I’m glad the Universe did what it did. It had to happen, of that I have no doubt.

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It was pretty crazy how it all came about.

I’ve thought about this a lot over the past two months and now, from a calmer and more centred view, I simply put it down to two souls calling out to each other. I, in this case, was more attuned to my higher-self/soul calling and effectively played out what needed to happen.

The message. The contact.

Looking back, it was a pretty stressful (and sleepless) experience; that week or so where my soul broke through my rationale, my fears, my promises, my mental barriers and took action, with me trailing behind like a man being dragged by a horse through his reality. Pretty savage, and it felt like I was going mad. The only thing I can compare it to was my night on the tobacco, which cracked me open and released the energy that would make me leave it all behind, cross an ocean, and return home once more.

The Why

Two souls calling to each other because of love? Yes, without doubt. Love was the catalyst. Strange to say, but I felt more love for her now than I had ever before, so instead of waning during her absence it only grew, maybe due to the fact that as the capacity to love ourselves grows, so does the capacity to love another grow too. Yeah. I love her more than ever. WTF?

To share in love, though, wasn’t the only reason.  

For me at least (I can only speak for myself in terms of what I feel the ‘Why?’ to be), the whole ‘interlude’, as I’ve come to call it, was the perfect marker for me to incorporate and live the changes I’ve been going through. Pages flowed out of me when I sat down and reflected on all the things that had changed in me that I could now see and prove. Real progress, real change, undeniable, tested and true. My therapist and I have dissected it, a perfect context and source of material. It’s been enormous, a clear line in the sand that has filled me with hope and resolve to see this through. ‘It’s working’, I’ve been able to tell myself. It is. It makes me so fucking happy that I can say now without any doubt whatsoever, the changes I’ve perceived to be happening are real, true, and the result of my hard work.

I have no doubt that this interlude proved as valuable to her in its own way, for her soul, for her journey, for her process, for her healing. We needed it, our souls called for it and we just played it out. Who knows if the play ends here, or if there are more acts to follow. The Universe is our playwright and my imagination falls short of what could be.

I bury hope. Very deep down inside of me, but it’s there.

Trust. Surrender.

The What Now

This all may seem like rainbows and roses, but in separation there is no joy. At least not for me. Just a realisation that the journey is part done and there is more to go, for both of us, in our own, individual ways. Parted once more by continents, by time, by space, but thankfully a soul’s connection recognises neither, that at least I know now for certain. Love also transcends time and space. And there’s plenty.

There has been a price to pay for connection. My anxious attachment has been tested and is being tested every day, but I went into this with my eyes open, I’m a big boy and I knew what I was getting myself into, and I know where my focus has to be right now. As hard as it’s been, it was worth it, for everything.

And that’s it. It was beautiful. Sacred. Divine.

11:11

22

Everywhere. Bloody everywhere. ‘Ok, ok’, I tell myself. Hope and dreams have a little peek every time I see a sign.

Focus, Juan, focus.

I’m ready to crack on once more.  

Other News

I’ve nearly finished the Self-Love journal. This interlude has been a rich vein of work for me, not a delay, more a necessary diversion, before I revert back to my core work. Inner-Child beckons. So do mushrooms. I feel a great urge to crack my mind open once more with these magical fungi. More on that as it unfolds.

I had a powerful experience with one of the exercises, around the Divine Inner Parent. We have infinite, divine love within us, enough to never, ever, need love from outside. I saw and felt and understood that. Believing it, though, is a daily practise that requires discipline. Like many of these things, it’s a discipline of thoughts, of practices, of re-writing the subconscious narrative.

The last leaves are falling as the world changes. Less sun. A time to rest, recuperate, explore, discover and understand as winter takes hold.

I haven’t wanted to write, there’s been so much energy, emotion and heaviness that I’ve had to deal with first. I’m not a robot.

I’ve been told that I must write, so I will, as much as I am able.

Thank you for being here with me, I love you all.

J