Sad. I am. But I’m totally equipped to deal with sad.
It might not be terribly balanced – and lo, I do not drink at the fountain of balance – but the ability to take risks is a privilege. The rest of my life is stable and secure which means I can be courageous with my heart.
Still, for the last year, maybe more, I took dumb risks. I did not look at the man in front of me and decide “is he worth the risk?”
I took the risk for the sake of the risk.
Unwise. Glad I stopped that.
But there is so much to be said for making the leap. For falling. Maybe even in love.
I’ve written before that I’m intensely frustrated with safe, tepid, tentative, risk-managed, pseudo-”healthy” dating and relationships.
And here’s why: because every single relationship I have had has ended. That fucking hurts. Endings tear you apart. Divorce is violence.
And so if I entered into relationships explicitly trying to prevent pain and and manage potential heartache, I would just never get into one, or any, ever. Because they’ve all ended that way.
And almost every single one was worth it.
That’s why I take the risk.
These days, I’m doing it better.
(The temporarily chaste thing really helped. It was like a “reset” button that made me stop interpreting men in light of what I wanted them to be and where I wanted them to go.)
Now, I only take the risk with someone who deserves it. Who is worth the potential heartbreak. With someone who can show up with the passion, connection, intellect and soul…someone with whom the risk might be great, but so too is the reward.
When I find someone like that, and our hearts and souls collide, and we inspire each other and lift each other up – and all of that is rare and precious – then yes, I leap. I fall. I don’t even look for the net.
Except maybe we don’t fall. Maybe we fly.
We did – or we tried – to fly. Turns out our wings weren’t strong enough.
Hitting the earth hurts. I hurt.
But…
I don’t regret it.
I am terrifyingly brave. I love. I really do. I’m all in. I show up and I open up.
And I am so proud of how I behaved in this most recent almost-love. I didn’t get freaky, clingy, angry or tense.
(When I had those moments, I “networked my neediness” – mostly with the author of that post, thank you, my friend – instead of making someone else responsible for fixing it.)
I didn’t try to fix him. I didn’t fall in love with his potential. I saw him. I saw flaws. I saw strengths. I took him as he was and I liked him as he is. I was kind to him and to myself.
I stayed present. I stayed in the moment. I didn’t worry about what we might be in one year or two years. I enjoyed him and us, right now.
Because right now is all we have. The past is dead and the future is imaginary.
And I really tried. When something needed to be said, I said it. When I was scared, I said so. When I was hurt, I said so. And I didn’t get all wound up about it and blame him for my feelings. I owned them and I spoke my truth. Evenly. Honestly. We made a deal to be honest even when it would be easier to lie.
That, it turns out, is not as difficult as I thought and infinitely more beautiful than I imagined.
And yet it didn’t work out. And so I’m sad.
But I am incredibly proud of myself.
Because I did my fucking best.
In a piece that Dave Doolin and I wrote together (you’ll see it soon), Dave wrote that when submitting pieces to other publishers, you’ve got to contribute your very best writing, because then if it is rejected you’ve got a “useful data point”.
That data point is this: your best effort wasn’t good enough. And that’s important, because then you’ve got something to work with: you need to become a better writer. That path is clear.
However, if you submit a mediocre effort and it is rejected, you don’t really know anything. You don’t know what would have happened if you offered your best. You don’t know if your best would be good enough.
It is a bit of a hop, skip and a jump to apply that to relationships, but here it is:
offer your best and truest love. Offer your you’iest you.
If it is not enough, it is not enough. But at least then you know, definitively, that this is the case. Clarity is peace.
I know this, intimately, because I once let go of a relationship without doing my best to make it work.
And I regretted it. For years. Eight years.
I was haunted by the thought – the bone-deep knowledge, really – that I could have tried harder. I could have done better. Maybe it would have worked if I had only done this, or this, or that…
Regret was my shadow.
So in that case, there’s no useful data point. There’s regret that I didn’t go all out because then at least I would know that I tried my damndest and it still didn’t work.
Instead, what I know about that eight-years-ago love was that I didn’t try.
There is nothing I regret more than not trying hard enough. There’s no fucking excuse for that.
With this more recent, wobbly-winged and wonderful relationship, I tried. I showed up. I showed.
There is nothing I would do differently.
I have nothing to regret.
Which is a great thing to know, because regret is a luxury and a vice.
Let’s not indulge.
The data point thing makes perfect sense, in both contexts. But why wasn’t your best enough? When I was a little girl, being a grown up promised falling in love and happily ever afters. You work hard, try your very best and it all works out OK. Who stole the perfect Prince Charming? We’ve both got little girls. Do we fuel the lie or teach them the truth and if the latter, how? My two still talk about Jesus and the Tooth Fairy in the same sentence. How do you teach real life to a five year old?
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on June 12th, 2010 at 3:56 pm
@Eleanor Edwards, This – “Do we fuel the lie or teach them the truth” – is a huge, beautiful and urgent question.
Let’s tell them the truth, and if we’re strong enough, show it to them.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot.
I’ve had a line down the middle of my life. Kids and lovers did not meet. Ever. Except twice (once with The Gentleman Caller and once with the man I’m talking about in this piece).
I think that might not be wise. How are my children going to learn about *real* love and relationships if they don’t see any in their own lives?
They’re going to navigate these same waters soon enough.
And so I’m not sure it is a good idea to protect them from the truth that this stuff isn’t easy. That being goal-oriented works in business and careers and school but not in love. That this bit is beyond your exclusive control. That relationships don’t always work even when you both have the best intentions. And that you can get through heartbreak and you must.
[Reply]
Eleanor Edwards
replied:
on June 12th, 2010 at 4:06 pm
@Kelly Diels, ‘And that you can get through heartbreak and you must.’ You’ve just reminded me of something that happened while we were on holiday that proved to me that, even as children, they can’t be immune to it. It’s a long story but short version involves holiday friends leaving suddenly and unexpectedly. My eldest was distraught. I’ve never seen her so heart broken. It was horrible to have to watch and be so helpless to make it better.
And you’re right, showing them the way, ‘slow slow bach’ as we would say here in Wales, in little baby steps. It could work. At least it would be honest.
[Reply]
Morag
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 3:09 pm
@Kelly Diels, what you’ll teach them is what you’re learning: that love is great and worth the risk. When it doesn’t work you dust yourself off and go love again, wholeheartedly. You live wholeheartedly. That’s a real relationship. Noshame.
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You know, Kelly, I walked a lot yesterday and today and saw so very many yellow swallowtail butterflies. None would pose for me, so, alas, no photos.
The thought occurred to me: these are not my butterflies. They are for my friends. And I named my friends quietly with each one that flew within sight. Perhaps, really, they were all for you.
But for all the peace and beauty in that thought, last night was a difficult one in my home. Turns out my love did not realize the level of anxiety I can feel over the most mundane things, and the truth-telling was difficult and never seemed to reach a resolution. But the loving little moments that have happened all day today have been a warm and accepting embrace. I feel blessed.
I want that for you, I really do. And I never want you to pay too high a cost for it, no matter how much it might seem worth it. I am intensely proud of you, for all of the parts of this story that I know, and for all of the other parts that I know you played like a virtuoso violinist. Your song is achingly heroic.
Hugs and oranges and butterflies, dear one,
~T~
[Reply]
I miss my delusions of happily ever after. Where there were rainbows and sunsets and perfect moments.
Kind of isn’t that way once you look around. Fortunate enough to still be with my first love, but we’ve had our pain. Now we have the memories. And each other of course, its enough for me I think.
[Reply]
Dave Doolin
replied:
on June 12th, 2010 at 9:19 pm
@Heather, you get them back.
And they are far, far sweeter than you could possibly imagine.
[Reply]
Heather
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 2:41 am
@Dave Doolin, There’s always the hope
[Reply]
Eleanor Edwards
replied:
on June 12th, 2010 at 10:54 pm
@Heather, I’m still living for the ‘happily ever after’ moments. They’re moments rather than the grand curtain call I expected as a child but the moments are still rather lovely
[Reply]
Heather
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 2:43 am
@Eleanor Edwards, For me it’s the hope lol, though having had both curtain call moments and sweeter ones – I’ll take the sweeter ones.
[Reply]
Damn, Kelly.
How did you know wtf I am going through. My current relationship is at a make or break point. I have no idea which way it will go, but I’ve stuck it out for 10 months with 6k fkin miles of ocean between us. I’ve screwed up…and am still trying to make amends. But at least I know I tried this time. I didn’t run like a scared little girl when things got hard. Now I just need to learn to be open and up front when I am hurt or happy or…whatever. And to learn to live in the now, but that will be harder than the first.
Thank you Kelly for sharing this. It really touched home, and made some points I need to think about and work out about ME.
[Reply]
Heather
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 2:44 am
@Gurl, That one’s tough, but possible. 4 years – me in Scotland, him in Canada. Just let the day take you wherever, worry’s the killer there.
[Reply]
Gurl
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 10:15 am
@Heather, Pfft..Me Not worry. That’s like asking the sun to rise in the west LOL I do my best not to worry, but he’s going through so much. Hell, we both are in various ways. Its hard as hell, and its even harder because we both have too many turtle moments. But we will find away if its meant to be. And if its not, we will have a wonderful friendship with a lot of love for each other.
Thanks for the encouraging words. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with being apart. But that’s something only time will tell. He’s worth every miserable moment, or I’d have walked long ago. I am just hoping for more of the fairytale, feeling that nearly perfect connection moments
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I love that you are passionate all the way. From my experience that scares people off, because a lot of people don’t know how to live with such abandon. But I swear… It is only worth it, it you can give your all and have someone get it and be strong enough to receive and reciprocate. Like you said, no regrets. Your youest you is definitely enough! xo
[Reply]
I want to comment on two things. The first is about being the best you can be.
I was once in a marriage that failed. At the time, I thought I was being the best I could be. Now, many years later, I see that not only was I not the best I could be, at times I was a classic A-hole. Not that she didn’t have some faults too, but there was so much more I could have done.
The marriage I have had for the last 30 some years has been what it was because, after I got over the poor me part, I started seeing clearly how I “F”ed up. I improved. I’m not perfect yet, but improved.
We learn as we live. We learn about ourselves and what we can do. Whether it be writing or relationships or cooking. We learn. IF we don’t, we repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
The second thing is about “happily ever after.” You’re in it! You think there aren’t days when Prince Charming/Sleeping Beauty ‘s breath doesn’t smell and/or their behavior? Come on! They fart like everybody else! Living your life with passion, with love, and with a bit of understanding, both of yourself and others, makes this happily ever after.
Kelly, you have it right, or as right as you can get it right now. Live your life, be as good a you as you can and learn when you fall down. Live your life in the white hot heat of passion. Not unbridled passion, but passion that is tempered and honed like a fine sword that cuts through the crap of life and comes out the other side shining!
[Reply]
Ah, my friend, so much in here. Sadness, yes, AND you – in glorious, living, passionate, juicy color. I’m so sorry you’re sad. And I’m so grateful you’re you. In my own places of ambivalence, failure, and enduring hope you invite me to integrity, vulnerability, and “me” in deep and dangerous ways. Thank you.
And I’m sorry…
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I’m reading David Deida’s book (Again) “Way of the Superior Man” A Spiritual Guide to Mastering Work, Women and Sexual Desire. I never really understood the dynamics of masculine energy vs. feminine energy until I did. I never realized how I was disconnecting from the right relationships and walking into the wrong ones until I did.
I never really grasped the desire of the feminine energy, (to be filled with love), vs the masculine energy (to be free). I now see in fascinating colors like a Las Vegas Strip at night, just how I’ve played out in the roles of my relationships. Where I was in a no win relationship before I even stepped into one and why one seemed so absolutely fucking amazing until the end.
I look back and I too realize that I gave up way too soon on a marriage 5 years ago. (together for 7) Knowing what I know today after Davids book I realize I could have saved it. (If I knew then what I know now, which is my point, I didn’t know) That regret haunted me. Severely haunted me because I too knew in the back of my mind I gave up way too early.
But today, I realize It had to happen that way. Everything is playing out exactly as it should. And it has. I’m no longer living in my shadow of past actions. Or inaction’s.
In Eat, Pray Love there is an interesting perspective on “soul mates” and how they come into your life for only a certain amount of time. How you and I have more than one in a life time.
I believe that perspective is based on the age of your soul whether that could be true or not. The older the two souls that meet, the more loving, understanding and mutually respected they become of one another. That could be total woo woo bullshit but it’s something that feels right to me.
Otherwise we still go through life with each relationship reflecting upon us our strengths, our wisdom, our ignorance, or our beauty. The truth is we’re all sleep walking in life at times and awareness is the greatest agent of change. Are we awake in our relationship with our self? Maybe that is what these relationships that don’t work out are here to project onto us.
Today, I realize the relationship with “me” has to be on target. I have had to make a commitment of honest open communication with me before I can expect to allow my true masculine energy to play out in my intimate relationship.
My relationship with me as open honest and pure as can be has to be accepted by someone of the same nature. Someone who knows that honesty is “bone deep” with ones self and then even deeper.
It never makes sad better by comparing. But maybe David Deida’s book might be an awesome read in your moment. Men and women both get a shit ton of value from it. I know I did.
Wishing you love and enjoyment in your next glorious step in life.
[Reply]
Jackie Walker
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 12:49 pm
@Tony Teegarden, David Deida’s book Initmate Communion was a life changer for me too. It mined the depth that Eat, Pray, Love had started. I’m so grateful and you’ve reminded me to read more of his work thank you. I’ll also buy some spares for when a man comes into my life!!
[Reply]
Tony Teegarden
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 6:54 pm
Yes I’m onto reading more of his work. He’s seriously open my mind to much more possibility of truly connecting and engaging on a much deeper level not only with myself but my many relationships.
Since everyone has feminine and masculine energy I’m much more conscious of it and what needs they may have more of.
Crazy good stuff.
I’ll be picking up Intimate Communion as well. Thank you
[Reply]
Dear Kelly,
Your words are deep and pure and thoughtful…and from where I stand, enlightened. I’m impressed. Once more!
Ah, love… Elusive love, commitment, fulfillment, how do you get that? How will you find a mate as mature as you are, who aligns with your principles? I’ve come to believe that Kelly Diels will attract that special soul in the same way other positive things come into her life – by setting a clear goal with some wiggle room, expecting it’ll materialize when the time is right, and then forgetting about it. Cuz, if ya gotta have it, like NOW, in a very specific way, and you’ll be bummed if it comes and goes or doesn’t come at all, no way will it happen. Okay, it might happen, but not without a huge struggle.
Yep. It’s the ole Cosmic Joke: When you want it, you lose it. When you give it up, you get it all. Today they call that rule the Law of Attraction. And it’s not easy to make work.
Okay, suppose you get busy, forget about finding love, and bingo, Mr. Potential rings your door bell. What next? Well, if he’s just as HONEST are you are, and his CORE VALUES (so important) line up with yours, and he EXPRESSES THEM FREELY, and you do the same, you guys gotta good shot at building something constructive. (I bet you know this.)
But did you know that when you find your soulmate, you feel it immediately, without a doubt that it’s “right?” See, there’s no “working out” to do, at least at first. There’s just “catching up,” because finding that person-of-your-dreams is like reconnecting with an old friend you haven’t seen in three life times. It’s a kind of a love that’s more than attraction. It’s also having complete freedom to be YOU, without fear of rejection, within the world of the person you’ve just met. You become LOYAL FRIENDS from the get-go, even more than lovers. RISK is not part of the equation, because you KNOW the inside of that other person. And you trust that person, because that person is very much like you. You just KNOW that. You are ONE.
So Kelly, assuming you’ve done your life-living homework and matured, which you have, and you get that Cosmic Joke working FOR you, chances are you will eventually attract a soul who will not harm you. Sure, any number of reasons could cause a separation, but if that happens, it won’t be destructive. It will simply be a change in the relationship.
I’ve been married for thirty-five wonderful years and ya know why it worked out? Reason: we don’t betray each other, so we TRUST each other and allow for changes of interest, which are desperately needed for a relationship to evolve and remain fresh. And how is trust established and maintained? By never, ever, EVER, dropping truth, honesty and communication. And of course, by admitting mistakes, saying you’re sorry, and meaning it. (But I bet you know that.)
I have no doubt you will find your Prince Charming, Kelly. You are a brave princess who deserves one.
Irv
[Reply]
What is coming up for me as I read your words is “effort” and “ease”. The effort in trying hard and doing your best and the ease in that place of knowing that you tried and did your best.
Am sad, proud and in awe. You being your you-iest is precisely the thing this world needs. Please never, ever, ever stop. Ever.
[Reply]
Thank you, Kelly, for all of that. And your courage and honesty. And for saying some of the things I only think.
And, I’m going to track back your temporarily chaste thread as well; I’ve just started a 6-month man cleanse … scary, exhilirating, so far littered with some cheating as in any diet.
Thank you for leading the way.
[Reply]
Dave Doolin
replied:
on June 13th, 2010 at 12:33 pm
@Shannon W., I’ve been on a “no-woman” diet for about a year now. Sort of. Part of the fun of being on a diet is the guilty pleasure of cheating once in a while. Accidently of course. Feeling bad never felt so good.
[Reply]
This speaks to me so deeply, Kelly … first of all, I am sorry for your pain. But I am so awed by your ability to see clearly through it and to take the lesson from life’s murk. I learn so much from watching you, from knowing you. Thank you.
[Reply]
As always, Kelly, you’ve dissected emotions few dare to explore. Knowing we all fall short in some aspect is one thing, but to acknowledge, learn and actively seek to become better opens the door to produce the fruits of live (and love) we all desire. I had to hold back the tears when I read “offer your best and truest love”. I thought I had all along, but if I’m honest with myself I’ve been selfish and stingy. I appreciate you!
[Reply]
It’s interesting we’re so disappointed when a relationship doesn’t work out but okay when other things don’t meet our expectations.
If we buy a product or attend an event and realize it’s not what we wanted, that it’s not meeting our needs, we just shrug and say “Well, that was a waste of money”. But we don’t beat ourselves up over it, we don’t lament it.
In relationships however, the product is malleable and the price is negotiable. So we’re always asking, “Did I pay too much? Not enough? What if I had offered more, would I have gotten a better product?”
And we think, “If this product would only be what I want it to be I’d be happy. Why can’t I print DVD labels with a George Foreman Grill?” We know what George Foreman Grills are for and we don’t expect them to do things they can’t.
But with people we often expect them to do what they’re incapable of and are disappointed when they can’t and we begin to think if we’d paid more maybe we could have gotten the model that did print DVD labels.
Why don’t people come with specs.
[Reply]
I watched the movie “Crazy Heart” over the weekend. Jeff Bridges’ character sings a song that goes, “Funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’…for a little while.” It kept running through my head, and eventually my brain turned it into “Funny how flyin’ feels like fallin’…for a little while.”
We all mix up flyin and fallin, back and forth, and both feel the same…for a little while. So either way, it’s a huge risk. Will I fall, or fly? Fly or fall? Sometimes, it’s best to just jump and see if the wings appear.
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