I’ve always pondered the energetic equation of giving and receiving. I see a sea of people who see themselves as givers- I’ve always wondered- where are all the receivers hiding?
Perhaps it is all in vain until we each learn how to receive.
It is our responsibility to see beyond the stories and manifest change.
As American’s, we praise the bold, the brave, and the courageous. We celebrate the crazy hustle of the entrepreneur. We delight in people going where no one has gone before, particularly if they’re a rogue and lone leader.
We are a society built on the exaltation of the solar plexus people. I trust my gut with unflinching precision. I listen to the wisdom of my body and am unabashed in caring for my body in the way she desires. I have an extraordinarily high level of health and energy. When I’m in my solar plexus, I have limitless energy to create, to assert myself, and to do it all with unwavering confidence. Society loves to celebrate women who operate from this vibration. Good lord am I celebrated when I’m single. I hear countless voices advocating for me to break up with love. Many friends and family members tell me how much they want to see me alone. They freely tell me how much the love single Carrie. Single Carrie is so fun, energetic, creative, and playful. I know I have offered similar feedback to friends and family in my life. I listen, sure all of you want to see me happy, I get it… but would any of you go half as far to love me if I breathed 1/10th of the poison at you that I’ve unleashed on this human? I always picture my partner on the front lines of loving me and being there for me- so wounded and bloody, yet still, he reaches out to carry me, despite the daggers I have upheld that continue to pierce his flesh. For all of you that celebrate me in my independence- would you still love me if you inhaled my poison? I have heard a tiny handful of voices asking me to reflect on why my heart’s in outer space. Even fewer don’t take the bait when I talk of my partner yelling at me- they ask me what am I refusing to acknowledge within myself? There have been so few voices who refuse to allow me to be a victim of my trauma. They hold compassion and an honest mirror up to me. They don’t allow me to deflect my unworthiness to another human. I can count the voices on one hand- whereas the number of voices advocating for me to break up with love extend beyond my fingers and toes. I was once one of those voices celebrating the retreat to independence. I have advocated numerous times for friends to claim their power all on their own. Note- there is a big difference between cultivating love and going around chronically attempting to fill that Daddy sized hole… again, I’ve been there. No judgment, I’m pro ho, but that topic is an entire blog saga (blaga) in its own right. Despite what society screams, being brave and assertive in our independence is not the point of life. We are here to learn how to love and be loved. For most of us, it is the greatest lesson we could ever hope to learn in our lives. I am here in service to love. And love, in it’s highest form, celebrates true and sacred partnership. It celebrates spending the entire day in bed, bringing heaven to earth as you worship the sacred vessel of love that you’re allowed to swim in.
One month had passed-
Our love for one another was unwavering as it always is. I realize that I’ve incorrectly labeled trust. For most of my life, I felt like my trust was broken when my partner was angry, would yell at me, would act out after my insults became too much. I would cry and cry that I didn’t feel safe. To me, trust was safety. And safety hinged on my partner being a doormat… Did I mention I’ve always been attracted to the fiery passionate types?
Trust now feels like no matter how much poison is spilled, we always come back to the table with love and compassion. Always. We are both continually forgiven and held in our humanness. After the dust settles, we are not held to some false standard of perfection.
I was laying on my loving partner’s chest. To me, his skin is perfect. His body is full of life and love. As my sister says, he’s the kind of person that you just want to hug a little bit longer. He feels like endless love. His soul is warm. His embrace is pure.
We were in my delicious sanctuary of a bedroom, filled with plants, flowers, art, and sensuous bedding.
He asked me to just tell him that I wanted to be with him. He wanted to truly hear my soul say, "I love and accept you & want to be with you.”
I was instantly transported to the ocean inside of him. I know it so well- I have been freely swimming in those waters for over 2 years. I am a lone, brilliant and colorful fish. I swam and swam, searching his waters for the presentation of worthiness. Something, anything, to show me a sign that this ocean was worthy of me, a fish, swimming in those familiar warm and loving waters...
I swam and swam. I looked everywhere. I did not know what to say. I could not find anything to give me my answer- and then I felt it in my heart. I never feel in my heart… I often say I’ve wrapped my heart in black wax and sent it to outer space. In that moment, I recognized that the thing I seek literally surrounds me. It is as abundant as water, yet I have missed it in my search for it.
What I seek is the ineffable that envelops me in every moment.
This relationship has been terribly one-sided. The ocean of this beautiful man’s love has been my home that I freely swim in. Yet I had no awareness of how to invite him into my ocean of love, let alone how to find my own ocean!
I began to worship this sacred vessel of love in a way I’ve never worshipped anyone before. I massaged and caressed his entire body. I discovered new freckles, moles, studied his scars, and really saw him for the God that he is. I felt blissful, ecstatic pleasure vibrating through me as I worshipped him. I felt these feelings in my heart. If only you knew what an accomplishment it felt like for me to feel energy in my heart! I felt like I finally remembered who I am. I felt so perfectly at peace in my soul. Feeling in my heart transported me on a river straight to the essence of the universe.
As he laid there, he was able to truly receive. He looked like a God. And I felt like a Goddess. I had done it. I had brought heaven to earth. Heaven existed in my bedroom that night. I had created it. I did not wait for heaven to be brought to me. I had the ability to bring it here, simply by loving unconditionally.
Stay tuned for Act Three- Life after the Worthiness Judge