Sometimes my “ah-ha” moments hit me at the strangest of times. I was jogging in the park when mine smacked me upside the head. When I run, I think. I think about how my day went, my kids, my future, how my legs hurt, why my butt gets tight going up hills and my thighs tense on the way down. I wonder about the idiot that didn’t pick up their dog’s mess on the trail; and agree with myself that U2 is the best band EVER for jogging. Running is my tranquil time. And since I don’t run fast I am able to maximize my peace.
I have been running for a long time. When I was in high school, my dad and I used to go out for jogs through the neighborhood. Since we lived in the desert, our route was not very green, could be quite windy and we always had to contend with a few hills on the course. Dad was always in the lead until the last ¼ mile when I would give a little extra effort and finish first. I loved our runs. I have gone jogging with my own kids a few times; but, I am looking forward to when they are a little bit older and we can run more often together. I know they will finish first, too.
I was in a good groove this particular afternoon. The fresh air filled my lungs; my feet hit the path in a good rhythm, arms swinging along with my beat. I was a fine-oiled 38 year-old machine. I was in a running trance listening to my breath inhale and exhale. Thoughts, observations and questions about my body, my marriage, my relationships, and my future ran through my mind.
Then my brain called out “Abandonment.” My heart said “What?! Hush!” My brain said louder (to be heard above the heavy panting that was my actual breath) “Abandonment. Abandonment. A-ban-don-ment!” I stopped running. There it was, so clear. My fear! All my observations, thoughts and questions about my body, my marriage, my relationships, and my experiences were all part of my subconscious to avoid ‘Abandonment.’
My curvaceousness. My relationships with otherwise “obligated” men. I had devised a pretty successful subconscious mechanism for protecting my soul from feeling the pain of abandonment again. I didn’t want to be rejected for being me so I kept on a few pounds and I chose men who were in no position to reject me because they couldn’t truly have me.
I continued walking on the path. My breathing returned to normal. I began to pick up the pace. I mulled over this revelation. Yes I was afraid of abandonment. I was afraid of feeling that pain again. I had made it very easy to not experience those feelings again. I had managed to build into my life a set of easy, fall-back excuses when things didn’t turn out as hoped or planned.
So why did this revelation come crashing to the surface and demand to be acknowledged? Why? What was I supposed to do with this new-found self knowledge? I was already exercising and watching what I ate, although the weight wasn’t exactly coming off. I was already refusing additional ‘otherwise-obligated’ male companions, although I hadn’t exactly sent the others back to their obligations. I was still only going through the motions of healing from my loss. I wasn’t really getting any closer to being able to be open and vulnerable to another person. And yet, that desire for surrender and intimacy with another person was pushing its way through my shield. It was saying to me “look, until you quit manipulating yourself with mind games, until you quit hiding behind your well-placed, convenient and strategic excuses, until you quit acting like such a scaredy-cat (well it actually used a bit harsher language there, I think you know which one), you will NEVER again experience the love that your soul is craving.”
“Yes, I know.”
Tears streamed down my face. I finished my jog and walked back to the minivan absorbing the fact that I was about to head down an unfamiliar and potentially painful path. But for some reason, I wasn’t nearly as afraid.
