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Day 312 – Open Windows. Closed Doors. Hope.

April 26, 2014

Good day World.

How are you? I am doing more than well. It’s Saturday, my favorite day of the week, and I have nothing planned until the evening.

I get to just laze around with my books and my thoughts and my prayers. I get to listen to the birds chirp in the tree outside my window, and at some point I’m going to go outside and feel the sun on my skin.

The craziness in my previous blog has simmered down. The verdict is out: I’m not crazy and neither are you. I know. It would be much easier just to call each other crazy and call it a day. Move on the next person. Someone who’s not crazy. And we do.

But there is something to be said about letting a thing run it’s full course. This thing with my Jerk-face Muse, it ran it’s course. A volatile course. A hurtful course. A loving course. I did and said everything I wanted to do and say. He did not respond in the ways I would have liked or anticipated, but I played my part. And because of that I can sleep OK. I can let the door close.

And I did. I let the door close. I didn’t close it. He did. But I let it close. It was an exercise in faith and it was hard because I thought our story was supposed to play out a certain way and I had to be okay with it not playing out the way I thought it would and me not being able to do anything about it. He could not see the good in me to save his life. And being around someone who thinks it’s a chore to see the good in you is the worst thing.

So I let the door close. And guess what? Immediately I saw an open window. Immediately.

A friend, my Neighbor appeared. Hadn’t spoken to him since our first introduction nearly a month ago. I texted him to say hi. He called. Came to dinner last night. I cooked dinner last night and had friends over. It’s something I had been wanting to do for years. Well last night, my sis and I hosted three friends. He was one of them. And can I say that when I talked to him that afternoon I forgot about all my grief? I forgot about Dream Lover and Jerk-face Muse and Almost Famous and Mr. Producer. All them became memories. All lessons learned in an instant. “Move towards the light” was finally heard loud and clear. “Walk towards One who walks towards you.”

“What can I bring?” he asked when I extended the dinner invitation. He brought pie and a wide smile. He brought authenticity, openness and vulnerability. He brought sweet slang talk and eyes full of depth. He brought gentle understanding manliness and kindness into my home. I told him some of my war stories with men and he didn’t call me crazy. In fact, he congratulated me on how I’ve lived my life thus far. He brought hope back into my heart.

Could it be possible that a nice, handsome, smart, prayerful, kind, open, childless, child-wanting, humble, funny, charming, mature, clean-spirited, sexy, honest, single, artistic, house-owning, talented, tall, brave, strong… did I say sexy? Sexy man lives literally right across the street from me. He called me beautiful. Could it be possible that he likes me? He looked at me some kind of way and I couldn’t hold his gaze. It was like he gave me an opening to see deep inside his soul. He did that on purpose. And I saw a deep well of love.

Could it be possible that a man with a deep well of love wants me to have it? Here and now? Me? For real?

“I’m looking for a wife,” he said. I busted out laughing. Who says that? In LA? “Don’t you mean you want to get to know someone or you’re dating or you’re open to possibilities and want to see how things go?” I asked. “No,” he said. “I mean I’m looking for a wife. It feels good to say that out loud.”

I am speechless. This kind of human being exists. In my neighborhood. Right across the street. Everyone I love would love him. He didn’t say he was looking for me to be his wife, but before he left, when I walked him to the gate, he said “I’m gonna’ invite you to dinner soon. So you can see the other half.”

The other half of what? Him? Me? Us? I let the questions be for now and take comfort in what is and what has been. A washing away of grit is occurring. A cleansing so real. Angels are everywhere, Allah. Thank You. Hope is an amazing thing. Hope begets hope. I don’t know if he will ever be my husband or if I his wife, but he could be, you see?

His presence means that I’m not crazy. His presence means that’s it’s possible that a man just like me exists. A deep spirit living in the middle of the inner city, bringing magic with his smile. We are actually very similar in our way of walking in the world. A man who’s actually looking for a wife exists in LA. And he’s gone through all the initiations so that if he actually finds a wife right now, he knows who he is and would be able to sustain a loving relationship. And he’s just as fine as they come. And even so, he’s still humble yet confident.

This is called hope. The possibility of a man like him wanting me is enough for me to get my act together together. It’s enough for me to want to get over all past relationships immediately. It’s enough for me to want to be happy for our sake. So I can have that good good love to offer. The tangible possibility of a good man is enough for me to want to slough off all the grit from my heart pronto, wash my face twice a day, and do my feet. It’s enough for me to want to take this writing thing to the next level ASAP.

Lord, You have given me right when I needed it most.

-Do not get attached to messenger, but hold on to the message, You say. You have been doing your own work, preparing a space for Love. You have been cleansing your vision and can now see the open windows that have always been open. Hold fast to Truth. Hold fast to Peace. Hold fast to Love. And hold fast to Guidance. Hope, Pray, Believe, and Open, Open, Open. Let go and walk. Demonstration time is now.

Ameen.

Day 312

Open Windows. Closed Doors. Hope.

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