I am awake. My laptop monitor is shining in my face, but it seems like it's still night. I close it. I like this time of the morning. That time when day has not fully broken yet you know in a few minutes light is going to glow brighter and brighter outside your window. My body knew. So, rather than roll back over and go to sleep, I laid on my bed starring out into the darkness. "I don't want to do like I usually do," I whispered. "I just want to grieve. Not wondering what or if I could have done anything differently. Not brooding over why this had to end. Rather, I just want to grieve the loss of something that I held dear."
I remember the first day I met him. He was rounding a corner about a block ahead. I was immediately struck by the pep in his step. A black man in jeans is all kinds of sexy. I moved closer thinking to myself that if he wasn't the one I was suppose to meet, would it be absolutely crass if I struck up a conversation and got his number. I started walking a little faster and noticed him slowing his gait and looking back. My heart raced. I so wanted to catch up with this distinguished looking gentleman, who had that Morgan Freeman sexy going for him. It's hard to believe that we've been together for nine months since that day.
Nine months. That's how long it takes to get pregnant, bring the baby to term and give birth. We've given birth to what's been growing underneath our clothes. In our hearts. Did we take care of it? Was its conception just the result of two lustful bodies going through the motions of love or was it conceived out of love? And once it happened, did we take care it? Did we take our prenatal vitamins, get enough sleep, get regular checkups? Did we hear its heart beat for the very first time and smile with excitement of the being we created together? Whether to keep it or not was not even a question or a thought. All the weight gain, morning sickness, fatigue, swollen ankles, back aches and awkwardness was simply what we had to go through to bring to term this being. This extension of you and me.
You think when you embark on a romantic adventure that it's about finding that special someone that your heart has longed for all your life. And truthfully, it is. Is it just me though who has with this encounter discovered that it was more than the happily ever after portrayal that we live for at the end of a good chick flick. Something has brought the couple to a moment of disenchantment. The arms that once held them are now the arms distancing one from the other. Yet some time passes – maybe a week, a month, a year – and fate brings them back together and….and…..the camera moves in for a close up of her eyes as they lock with his. It's obvious from those who have followed their story that there is something magical there but will they see it. Will they get past their differences? Can they get past their differences? Past the I don't like and I can't stand and this isn't working and realize that what they gave birth to is so much bigger than the two of them alone? Or will this be the Casablanca ending where Ingrid Bergman walks away in the fog without Humphrey Bogart? We sit with baited breath, wondering, hoping.
Attraversiamo! This was the word that the main character of the book EAT PRAY LOVE spent her whole journey to claim. At its start, while in Italy learning to rediscover the pleasures of simply eating of life without the usual politically correct restraints, she was asked by her new friends, "what's your word, Liz?" I can't for the life of me remember the context of the question. I've even just thumbed through the book hoping to find that place where in the movie this discussion of words came up in conversation. Nevertheless, at the end of the movie, Liz's bombshell of a lover, Felipe, invites her to attraversiamo with him. This shakes her to her core. For the idea of giving up something she fought so hard to find – her balance, her identity, her lost soul – and to risk it all by taking this man's hand filled her with terror. Like many of us, she ran. Fortunately though, she runs back to Ketut, her Wise Guide I call him. His words penetrated her confusion and got to the heart of the matter. "Losing your balance for love is getting your balance in life" he says. Nonetheless, as she grappled with do I hold on to me or do I hold on to us, Felipe looked her in the eyes and said to her with absolute clarify of heart, soul and spirit, "regardless to whether you come with me or not, I'm getting in this boat." The love they shared helped him to reclaim the part of himself that had been locked away for so long.
So as I lay staring at the ceiling in my bedroom. I know in my heart that life has extended its hand and invited me into its boat with a hearty attraversiamo. Regardless to whether you accept the invitation or not, I'm getting in this boat.
Oh, in case you're wondering what attraversiamo means. It means let's cross over.
