Knowing

     I wasn't going to write this blog entry.  I hemmed and hawed.  For days.  Should I?  Shouldn't I?  Would the contents spilled here be better left to a private conversation with a friend, sponsor, or therapist?  Yes. And no.  When I made the decision to share the details of my life in recovery here, I did so knowing that I would have to be brutally honest with myself and my readers.  Growing up in public is sometimes painful.
      A male friend of mine shared the struggles he continues to have with relationships this morning in a roomful of like-minded people.  His tearful candor and heartfelt confusion gave me the courage to process my own stepping stones and stumbling blocks to happily-ever-after.  God knows, I stumble.
     After a brief, six-week summer romance, it seems I have stumbled once again.  Lessons and blessings.  Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love articulates my pattern of falling in love with illusions better than I ever could.

"I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men.  I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks.  I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching the highest potential.  I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness.  Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism."

     The good news (the blessing) is that my response time has improved.  When I know, I know, and once I do, there is no denying the reality.  To sugar-coat the truth invites hostage-taking and other old behaviors.  The lesson is to continue practicing spiritual discernment.  Suit up.  Show up.  Pay attention.  Be kind.  Be willing.  Love with an open heart, and when necessary, leave with gratitude for having had a chance to fan the flames of hope and optimism.