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Romance


obe.jpg.bf173d7a50843d243c7d543e76920a04.jpg The buzzing creeps up on me like a vapor in the bones.  I am familiar with the pain that follows resisting it.  I have become adept at letting it devour me… Turn me to cosmic dust.  This part of my life has been a blessing and a curse for over thirty years.  Spontaneous increases in personal frequency will seemingly eject me from this physical world.  ‘Astral planing’ it was called the first time I heard someone speak of it publicly.

You become adept at letting go of yourself entirely when it isn’t a conscious choice to leave.  On higher dimensional levels, the personality and the personal story lines that feed it cannot follow you.  It feels freeing, like someone taking off a really tight coat.  But there is both beauty and ugliness inherent in everything.  As some would say, there is a gift to knowing and a price to knowing.  Any out of body traveler will tell you, there are gifts and there are prices to be paid.  To come back to your personality and then body and then life, is like a crash landing.  Disorienting doesn’t come close to describing it.  When timelines are distorted (as they are in dimensions where time does not exist) I have on occasion experienced entire lifetimes that take place in the span of five minutes where my body lies.  I sometimes come back unaware of which timeline is ‘real’.  I sometimes come back unaware of who I am.  

kids-2985782_640.jpg.f9be85a179df4631a62583fa2bfd8f3d.jpgIn the minutes that follow, my memory fills in like colored pencil filling in the lines.  By re-attuning to this life, the story line that accompanies it comes back.  I am putting the ego associated with this lifetime back on.  It is amazing how “grippy” the ego is.  How real it makes life seem and how deeply it enrolls you in its perceptions.  But the ego is not just a prison, it is also beautiful, like a feeling flavor that is so unique it could never be replicated.

On the other side of that buzz last night (often called the vibrational stage), I was taken to watch two lovers.  The year was 1942, in Italy.  The two were in their early twenties.  The girl was wearing a knee length navy dress with pleats and a fiercely colored scarlet sash tied in a bow around the middle.  Her black hair curled its way in deliberate, shining waves just past her shoulder blades.  Bobby pins held her bangs off her face to expose a pale, circular face that was powdered to perfection.  Large, innocent brown eyes and lips that matched the sash on her dress.  The boy towered over her by at least a foot.  In brown plaid pants that (characteristically of the day and age) came up too high on his waist.  Over broad shoulders, he was wearing a navy colored button down shirt with a scarlet tie that nearly reached his pant line.  His black hair was slicked to the side in a stylish wave.  His eyes were green; they sparked under his overhanging brow.  He wore a smile as he looked at her like she was the only thing left in the world worth notice.  It was obvious to me that they had dressed to match, most likely having returned from a social dance.

I watched as they flirted and chased each other around the empty street, oblivious to everything else but each other.  Their worlds spun around one another.  Each was the sun in the center of each other’s orbit.  I watched her skin flush as he picked her up and spun her with ease, refusing to let her down again.  I saw the pulse in his arteries.  I watched the light glint off of the moisture on their lips as they locked, like magnets finding their way across space again and again.  I watched them breathe when they were close, deliberately drawing each other’s fragrance deep into lungs and heart and veins.  There are so many things that fall under the simple word ‘love’.  This kind of ‘love’ is known to make fools of those that are under its spell.  On a purely biochemical level, it is a drug.  But to call it a drug, diminishes its capacity and truth.  Even rational people want to experience this drug.  Without it, there would be no procreation and thus no universal expansion through our species. But It brings both the potential for euphoria and despair.

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Many extraterrestrial beings agree that one of the best experiences to come to Earth to sample is romantic love.  They also agree that one of the worst experiences to come to Earth to sample is losing or being denied of romantic love.  Romantic love is and has been the enemy of many spiritual traditions.  The argument is that it ‘gets in the way’ of spiritual practice and real love.  And yet, it is widely understood that romantic love is the #1 collective desire that human beings have.  And you cannot un-want what you want regardless of how good an argument is for not wanting it.

Regardless of how ‘rationally dysfunctional’ it is for two people to kill themselves if they can’t be together, secretly the intensity of loving and being loved that much is something that so many of us want.  This is why we love Romeo and Juliet.  This is why Nicholas Sparks has made so much money.  This is why I would have preferred to watch the Italian couple for years instead of return to my own bed.

So today, instead of offering my opinion, I am interested in putting forth a question for you to answer:  What is so different about a romantic relationship that causes you to want it above all other relationships? 

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