There in Dreams, What About Real Life?

Someone found my blog with the search term, "To know someone is to love them."

I knew someone once, and I woke up today and realized my love failed them.

As Shameless pointed out, this latest full moon was a Blue Moon, and this is the kind of dream that happens about once that often. In the wee just dawn hours as I was sleeping that last stretch, I dreamed about that last one. I was at a retreat of some kind, some kind of meeting-getaway combo in almost a resort kind of facility where friends from my volunteer life and family life and past career life all came together. There in the midst was my former s/o, returned in full thought form, laughing, making friends and trouble, happy. The feeling exchanged with the thought form represented itself as contentment, peace, adjustment, a new place.

I wish that were so in the waking world. This is a person who had his share of problems, formidable ones, but who still tried hard to be a good friend, up until the time I tried to very gently pry him out of his house to meet my sister and he failed to materialize. Things quickly deteriorated after that. I guess I felt hung out to dry. He ultimately was still in love with someone else -- and probably still is -- and gave me the poetic heave-ho.

Had I been more open minded and aware at a critical point, I would have been better able to swallow my humiliation and accept defeat gracefully, better equipped to extend the friendship I know now was badly needed. But I denied him that. The hope that I might mean something to him was more important than being the person he needed at that particular moment.

My friend Jawbone and I exchanged some insightful emails about the nature of love last week. He is a very wise person. He wrote that, why is it we cannot love others as we love flowers? We love flowers but we don't try to own them. Despite my ability to recognize the importance of detachment, and recognizing it intellectually, when it comes to knowing what to do in the moment, sometimes I fail to let go gracefully. We've been contemplating a saying I found from the 14th Dalai Llama: "Practice kindness whenever possible........Kindness is always possible."

Easier said than done.

But I still have hope that someday I will be more able to summon the right kind of love when it is most needed. Who am I to try to own my friend the wind? I didn't put that flower there, so it's not mine to take.

I hope he really is happy and that his life unfolds as it should to good things. I hope he is able to find peace and forgiveness in his heart and make room in it for real love and friendship.

I'm sorry I wasn't there for him. Here's a song from Tony Rice and Pete Rowan's last effort (I'll be blogging soon about their new release, Quartet, with Sharon Gilcrist and Bryn Davies, a superb sonic experience). It's a beautiful hymn to love and friendship. I hope when the time next comes for me to release someone I love or to help us move to a different place, I'll remember this lesson.

You Were There For Me

When all my dreams were broken
I was down on bended knee
Through my pain I called your name
You were there for me
You were there for me

I climbed the highest mountain
I looked down in the deep blue sea
The sky it cries, for love sweet love
You were there for me
You were there for me

I will always love you
No matter where you may be
I'll be there for you, baby
You were there for me
You were there for me

And I will always remember
How you set me free
With kindness and affection
You were there for me
You were there for me

You were there for me
You were there for me