It was a nice way to start the day, and I was feeling mushy about Pinko. Really mushy. You don’t fall in love like you fall in a hole. You fall like falling through space. It’s like you jump off your own private planet to visit someone else’s planet. And when you get there it all looks different: the flowers, the animals, the colours people wear.
It is a big surprise falling in love because you thought you had everything just right on your own planet, and that was true, in a way, but then somebody signaled to you across space and the only way you could visit was to take a giant jump. Away you go, falling into someone else’s orbit and after a while you might decide to pull your two planets together and call it home.
And you can bring your dog. Or your cat. Your goldfish, hamster, collection of stones, all your odd socks. (The ones you lost, including the holes, are on the new planet you found.)
And you can bring your friends to visit. And read your favourite stories to each other. And the falling was really the big jump that you had to make to be with someone you don’t want to be without. That’s it.
P.S. You have to be brave.
Since we had been internet buddies for a couple of years before I went to Burning Man, I already knew I loved Pinko before I ever went out there. I love all my internet friends. The primary difference between Pinko and my other colleagues at Roundtree7, or Punk Patriot or Comrade Kevin or any of my blogging buddies is that I never had a romantic agenda with any of the other internet friends.
Pinko and I seem to get along like a house on fire, which is great, but since I finally shifted my romantic patterns and am not looking to a man as an authority figure to forgive and heal ancient wounds, define my identity and all that mishigas people load onto romantic relationships, this thing with Pinko feels very different from relationships in the past. Given that those relationships were generally unhealthy, there's a reason to celebrate, but I didn't recognize any of my feelings or responses as they are unfamiliar. "Falling in Love," helped clarify something I suspected was developing around Love.
Now, Love is a very loaded vocabulary word and I've avoided using it in any way shape or form with Pinko. I avoided it yesterday morning, too, even though we did talk on Skype like we usually do. What Jennette says about taking a big jump was in my head, though, and when we were reviewing a bit of our brief history, I used the phrase "leap of faith." Pinko objects to the word "faith" because of the religious connotations and made it clear that he wants no part of that word ever associated with anything he says or does. I understand where he's coming from, but I started wondering if our different ideas about spirituality, or lack thereof, will wind up being a deal breaker. The thought hit me so hard that I had to go to bed. Pinko was able to see that thought take hold in my head. He didn't know what I was thinking, but he remarked that it was like my light just turned off.
I had indulged in a little wake and bake, which I haven't done in a while, so it was easy enough to say I'd hit the wall and needed a nap. But that wasn't really true. I was wondering if his opinions about some things are so strong that there's no room for me. A couple of hours later, I started wondering if I've made this whole relationship up in my head. I've wanted a partner for a long, long time - and I've made mistakes with square pegs and round holes before. Usually the square peg doesn't go along with the round hole idea, and Pinko has certainly been going along with me about coming to New York to investigate an alliance.
It's probably natural to have thoughts like these when you're getting to know someone, especially someone who is rapidly becoming part of your life. That kind of change is scary, and we sometimes invent obstacles to prevent getting closer. You've got to be able to trust your own instincts to be able to distinguish between real issues and invented fears. Since the issues are typically just an expression of Fear, we're back to choosing to look on a situation with Love or with Fear just like we do all the time about everything.
It's kind of like The Fool in a Tarot deck. A leap of faith may not be sensible, but it feels right.
The fool is the symbol of true innocence, a perfect state of joy and freedom, the sure feeling to be one with the spirit of life, at any time.
The Fool has the number 0, for someone ready to go in any direction, open to all possibilities. He belongs nowhere, has no past, but an infinite future . . . He reacts directly to the current situation, nothing is calculated, nothing is hidden.
In most decks, The Fool is shown with an animal, as a symbol of nature, the animal soul in perfect harmony with the spirit that just follows its instincts. The Fool is courage, optimism and the belief in life and himself.
When times are hard, and we suffer the pressure of 'being reasonable' or denying our instincts, The Fool reminds us that our inner person knows best what to do. 'Always trust your instincts.'