It’s hard to believe a year has almost passed since Orion and I officially merged.  We went to dinner last night with some dear friends of his – friends we hadn’t seen for almost the same amount of time.  A full year.  With that acknowledgment, Orion looked at me and commented “Wow, we were barely just dating when last we saw them.”  There was a sense of relief in his voice, a humorous “look how far we’ve come” tone, and I felt much of the same.  For me, it’s in many ways a gigantic relief that a year has passed.  Our early days were incredibly intense and jarring, as a lot of endings had to transpire for our beginning to merge.  We had / have a lot on the line, having sacrificed a great deal.  Likewise, we’ve both submerged ourselves in the world of vulnerability – these are dynamic, promise-less spaces where anything can and does transpire.  So to have lasted a year – to have emerged from those wildly erratic and beautiful beginnings to land within the realms of a bona fide, rock-solid bond – yeah, that’s good stuff.  I’m wiping sweat from my brow now.  I remember that-me in those early days; I had such a bright-eyed wonder about what the hell we were doing.  If we’d make it a month, let alone a year.  If things were really what they seemed with us – so connected, so madly-in-love, so willing to play this game with integrity and depth.  And, of course, our verbalized handshake agreement that our spiritual paths were always, always first.  We didn’t know what that would mean for the relationship itself.  We still don’t, entirely.  It means we don’t know, in a nutshell.  And that’s been a difficult, fulfilling, frightening, insanely rewarding path thus far.

It’s not just relief I feel in marking our first official year.  In this current ego-driven yet observer-fueled space I’m in, there’s a definite dose of trepidation.  Passing the year mark is a magnificent hurdle, but it also can signify a whole lot of changes and challenges.  I know, of course, that those are all Big Fat Stories, that nothing is true unless I make it so in these relative spaces, so I suspect that’s what lured me here – to write this out and find the chosen path.  To let the heart speak louder than the fret-frantic head.

It’s been a bit of a wild week for Orion and myself.  Monday marked a day of serious ego-outbursts — something that is not our norm.  Sure, we were able to laugh (with gritted teeth) through the majority of the drama we sourced, but it left me, anyway, feeling rattled and exhausted.  I had had a great run – almost 2 months long – of a tremendous peace and acceptance of all that is.  Then, suddenly, I sensed some serious frustration / resistance in Orion, and this time around, I chose to let that hit me in an emotional manner.  We’ve been doing the hot/cold dance with one another, and it’s been sending me into a tailspin of sorts.  Only on the outside, though – and even now, that’s barely noticeable.  That is to say, I am more than OK will all of this, I’m just feeling my way through the space and trying to find the nuggets of lessons.

Anyway, there’s more static today.  We’re not on the same page, and that’s all good.  I recognize a pattern in the recent interactions that’s integral for me to address.  When Orion hits a wall that he needs to process, he normally prefers to do this solo.  I can certainly relate – there are many things I prefer to handle alone as well, and then share with him the results when appropriate.  The thing is, I usually do this in secrecy, without any outward appearance of static – it rather happens beneath the surface while other experiences are playing out.  When I’m *really* deep in an emotional process, I tend to want him along for the ride.  He offers wonderful clarity and support, and I normally am wise enough to utilize that, and pull myself out in a jiffy.  Orion, he’s more heart-on-his-sleeve with the egoic frustrations, and likes his space so he can find the roots.  When I’m crystal clear and solid, this is easy and reasonable.  This week, however, I’ve had some annoying attachment issues that have rendered a panicked rush when I felt Orion pulling away from me.  I know better – I do.  There is no “pulling away” – it’s not about me, it’s about his process and unfolding.  But somehow I keep allowing the ego to make it personal – to get my feelings hurt by the perceived distance.

What’s my business will be made my business by the people I love, and I’m normally aces about respecting space without hurt feelings.  I’ll be honest, it doesn’t feel fabulous to bookend the first year in a less than clear and strong space.  I’m a little miffed at these hurt feelings I’m swimming in, but still trying to hear the truth of them.  I am hardly a fear-free person, because I’m still very aware of this ego-who-thinks-she’s-real.  And she’s the one having a minor fit in here.  Wanting to know what’s really going on.  Confused by the connected/not-connected scenarios that are playing out this week.  Wanting it her way, I suppose – which is easy.  Free of conflict.

Part of the deal in this incredible bond of ours is that we don’t not choose the easy route.  We have a vision for taking on integrity and the things we’re hiding from ourselves in a way that is fabulously fun and oh-so-very-loving, but there’s a deep, deep understanding that playing the game the way we have chosen does not guarantee a peaceful path.  It doesn’t guarantee anything, actually.  We make zero promises about what the future brings – it’s all about the present moment.

Right now, that present moment is a many faceted-spectrum.  I am so overjoyed and grateful to still be connected to the glorious, luminous, perfect-for-me Orion.  I truly do fall more in love with him on a daily basis, and have no doubts that this is where I continue to be called to be.  But I’m also frustrated at all the push-pull I feel, the egoic flare-ups within, the lack of patience and trust I’m facing in my own self right now.  When I find an attachment, I generally scowl and protest as a first response.  I haven’t yet learned to be totally gentle with myself when things like this arise.  It’s rough when we’re both in muddled spaces.  I want so much to be clear and focused, to hold the space for Orion to feel free to do whatever he needs to, without repercussions on my end.  But I can’t always promise such things.  Today. . .today I’m a little teary, and a lot bummed, and definitely confused.  There is always gratefulness and an acceptance of what-is, but they are overshadowed.  The heart is a little bit hurty.  And ugh, that makes me feel like a freaking victim, with the knowledge that I’m bring all of this onto myself.  THAT is frustrating.  But I suppose rather than get all huffy about this turn, I should only look inward and ask – why is this serving me?  Right now, that answer is a mystery.

You know, I used to write poetry to work all this stuff out.  I’ve been really hard on myself for no longer acting like a poet, either.  But I suppose I’ve found a new (not so at this point, as it’s been years) outlet for these kinds of mind-twists.  Blogging is the new poetry.  Since I feel lighter and more spacious now, I’d say that’s a good thing.  Oh hell, it’s all good.

Orion, I love you.  Here’s to our momentous, transforming, connected year.  It’s been my best so far.  And while we don’t make any promises about what’s to come on our path, I will say this – I hope the next year has me blogging about the latest phase of our journey.  I love, love, love sharing mine with you.