I am currently fighting the grip and seduction of glamour. Before I elucidate I thought it might be useful to insert some information about what I mean when I use the word glamour as it is a widely misunderstood word in modern, western society.

The following definitions and statements come from the “I am University” and explains glamour in the way that it is used by the Tibetan Master Djwhal Khul in the book Glamour: A world problem. (This is the Master whose works I study – one of the transmitters of the Ageless Wisdom teachings.)

Glamour is astral in character. Glamour veils the truth behind the fogs and mists of feeling and emotional reactivity and victim consciousness.

Glamour prevents a person from seeing life truly or clearly and the conditions surrounding themselves as they truly are.

The disciple who wants to dissipate glamour must do two things. 1. They must stand in their spiritual being. 2. They must keep their minds steady in the light. This means to keep your consciousness and mind always on God, your soul or Higher Self, and on a spiritual attitude.

The glamour of sentiment - Pseudo love based on attachment and addiction to loving, or being loved.

So, I am in need of illumination to dispel the fogs and mists of feeling that seek to entrap me. I now realise that I have been succumbing to the glamour of sentiment in the past few days. Really I have been succumbing to it ever since the day P visited my home 4 weeks ago now.

Prior to that visit I knew where we stood. Our standing is no different now to what it was back then but in my mind I have made it into something more – with a good dose of glamour from my astral (emotional) vehicle.

I have let myself get a bit carried away by feelings. I have read more into his feelings than may actually be there. I have imagined there to be more going on than is actually the case between P and myself. I have been deluding myself that we share something meaningful and beautiful that is something special that lifts us above the average couple out there.  Ok, it is beautiful and meaningful – that is no delusion – but in my mind I’ve tried to make it into something more. Unusual, unconventional - a new kind of relationship - something new and revolutionary.

Which is, of course, a load of bollocks.

I am now attempting to shed light on the situation (illumination being the remedy for glamour) and see it as it really is. Stripped of all the glamour and illusion.

The reality is this. P and I are friends who have a lot in common. P and I are friends who find each other physically attractive and act on that attraction. That’s it. End of story.

And that is completely wonderful and beautiful in its own right. Why do I feel the need to add other layers to it? Because of my attachment to the idea of loving and being loved. My attachment to the need to have someone who sees me as no. 1 in their life. My longing to feel special and wanted and attractive and sexy and all those other ephemeral things.

And it all made me feel low the last few days. It made me feel alone and a bit lonely. How stupid is that? To deliberately do something that would bring me down? If I release all that extra stuff, just let it go, and see things as they really are, how much better I feel.

I’d like to finish with the Webster’s dictionary definition of glamour showing the real roots of the term.

Glamour
1. A charm affecting the eye, making objects appear different from what they really are.
2. Witchcraft; magic; a spell. –Tennyson.
3. A kind of haze in the air, causing things to appear different from what they really are. The air filled with a strange, pale glamour that seemed to lie over the broad valley. –W. Black.
4. Any artificial interest in, or association with, an object, through which it appears delusively magnified or glorified.
Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc

“…delusively magnified or glorified…” that is exactly what I have been doing to the whole situation. Now I want to just see it, and accept it, for what it really is. Because it is worth a lot in its own right.

I have a tendency, in true Capricorn fashion, to collect rocks from all around the world. Some I’ve incorporated into art works, others I have sitting in plastic bags. Yesterday I decided to take all my rocks and create a rock mandala in front of my Buddha statue. I wanted it to be a natural, free form mandala. Perhaps one day, I will take the time to form a real pattern from the rocks.

This is the view I awake to every morning from my bedroom window.

Mandalas are very important in the Buddhist faith.

Many of these rocks come from the Himalayas including the Mt Everest region of Tibet.

Also included, are rocks from the Southern Alps in New Zealand. If you look closely you may also see a single shell in the very centre collected from a New Zealand beach. It is sitting on black volcanic sand from that same beach.

So now my Buddha sits under his weeping Eucalypt (newly staked) with his new rock mandala in front of him.

I think he is happy with the additions. I will continue to add to this collection as I find new rocks on my travels. My aim is to fill the entire concrete circle with rocks.

Just as I was publishing that last post came the wordpress message - “Sorry for the lack of notice, but we are performing some maintenance. Your dashboard is going to be unavailable for 17 mins”. Which then quickly became 35 minutes. And then another five. Talk about a freak out moment. Luckily I had had the foresight to copy and paste my post into notepad just prior to hitting the publish button. I don’t always do this but with such a long and personally important post I decided to be careful. Now I am waiting to see how much of my post actually was saved prior to wordpress going down. Luckily I have the whole thing saved locally. I  think I would really have cried if I’d lost that post. (later: I am so glad I saved that post locally - only the first three paragraphs had been saved by wordpress - huge sigh of relief).

Writing that letter to P has been incredibly carthartic for me. It never ceases to amaze me, or fill me with wonder, how writing saves my soul. It is incredibly therapeutic - moreso than anything else I’ve ever encountered. I’ve been feeling a bit sad and emotional for a couple of days now, reevaluating things after my trip away. A time of introspection in between two phases - holiday and work. Wondering, yet again, what it is I really want and knowing that there is still something lacking, missing.

Having written that letter, which by the way, P will never read (he knows I have a blog but not its name or whereabouts), I’ve processed and worked through some of these unexpected emotions that seem to have set out to waylay me. Talking it through with a friend would have taken much longer and not resulted in the same sense of release and acceptance. Brooding on it would have sent me spiralling downward. Distracting - getting out in the garden for instance - would also have helped, like it did yesterday, but I find the feelings are still there waiting later.

I washed the windows yesterday; they were getting so mucky I could barely see out. Now I have an uninterupted view of the birds in the birdbath. They love it. My apple, plum and pear trees are starting to shed their leaves and the colours of autumn in the garden are quite stunning. Golds, browns, oranges, greens, rusts. The light is soft and warm and my lawn is lush and green. It fills me with such peace and contentment. Life, close to nature is truly wonderful. The recognition of this is one of the many things P and I share.

I’ve been here alone for four days straight after 13 days away with other people constantly. That has triggered my feelings of aloneness again, and the sense of wanting someone to share things with on a more regular basis. That is the frame of mind I have been coming from the last few days. But now, again, I can see that my life is as it is meant to be right now. Perfect in its own way and with many things for which to be grateful. This view from my window being one of them.

Writing has again cleansed me, saved me, made me feel whole again. What a wonderful gift.

Dear P

One year ago today we met. Do you remember that lovely autumn evening under a crisp, starry sky where we were introduced as we sat around a roaring open fire? We spoke of many things that night and found many common interests and values. I remember thinking how special you were, how you loved your work and felt privileged to be doing what you were doing - sharing your deep love of literature with young people. I found that very attractive and even sexy. There was passion in your voice as you shared your views.

I didn’t get a very good look at you, by the flickering fire light. It didn’t matter. I already knew I liked you. But no, it wasn’t love at first sight or first meeting. Just a sense that here is a man I would like to get to know better.

A week later you dropped by to see how I was settling in. You came in for coffee and we spoke some more. For the first time we actually saw each other clearly. I was not looking my best by any means - I’d been out walking and hadn’t yet cleaned up.

From then on you often dropped round for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine and we would talk. What did we talk about during all those hours? I don’t remember although I know we spoke of literature, of travel, of voluntary work overseas, of art and of teaching. We spoke of our mutual love of mountains, of the cold, of wild and fierce weather and of the outdoors. We both loved gardening and had a special appreciation of gum trees. We both drank proper brewed coffee and tea from a pot. Many tiny things we had in common. I talked of buying a house and we even agreed on what was important in a home. And of course we both have the same favourite colour - green.

We walked together through the lovely bush surrounding the area. On Bloomsday we went to the pub for a drink, walking in the dark along the railway track and through the bush. You read James Joyce to me after we got home. You have often read me poetry and shared your own poems with me. I remember how we walked one day to a lovely place with a view over a tree filled valley to the far off hills. As we rested, drinking in the view, you gave me the poem you had written that was inspired by that very place.

P, I love your poetry. I love the way you put words together - your emails are very poetic at times. After I left the area we shared emails and continued the friendship that way. Then you went camping in the Flinders and sent me a text message from the peak of a mountain. I was at work, in my new job, and it made my day getting that text from you. “Love from St Mary Peak”.

We finally met up again after three weeks - how long that seemed. Do you remember you got sick and had to postpone the meeting for a week? Things became more sporadic then - living so far apart and both working it was hard to meet up very often. From seeing each other almost daily it became almost monthly. I found that painful but I had your lovely emails to sustain me.

But sometimes you’d pull away and I wouldn’t hear from you for a week or more. We’d see each other twice in a week and then nothing for several more. I didn’t know what to make of it all. I didn’t know how you felt about me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about you either - I knew I was falling slowly for you - and it felt wonderful. But I held back, not wanting to risk being hurt if my feelings were unrequited. I asked for, and received, signs from the universe - signs that told me to be patient and let things work out as they would. I realised then that I had to accept that what was between us, just was what it was.

Then I bought my house and moved in. Three days later you came to visit me and you brought me the first rosebud from your garden. You loved my house as much as I do. I took you on my walk through gum filled gullies and we explored the area. As we sat in the lounge drinking tea I had such an urge to lay my head on your chest. But I didn’t. Then, when it was time for you to leave, you hugged me as you always did, only this time you didn’t let go. You caressed my back and ran your fingers through my hair. And then you kissed me, properly and deeply.

You didn’t leave straight away. We came back inside and drank brandy and kissed. We spoke, in quiet voices, about our past relationships. And you told me, right then and there, that you had a history of pulling away. You said you had qualms about us but said there were so many connections to overcome those qualms.

An hour or so later you finally left. You promised to come over after work one day. I was floating on air. I was full blown in love with you by now. I’d let myself tip over the edge with that first kiss. How I love kissing you. How I love holding your hand.

That week was your birthday. You were busy preparing the house for a party and had much marking to do. You rang me the night before your birthday and we talked. We planned a day trip to Deep Creek, one of your favourite places. On your birthday I sent you a deep kiss via text message.  You responded saying how much you wanted to claim that kiss. Then it was your party. I didn’t know anyone there except you. I planned to only stay a short time, but enjoyed myself so much I stayed 10 hours. But we didn’t come out about our relationship. I wasn’t surprised - it was too early. But you’d secretly hold my hand or caress my back in passing all evening and I found that very erotic. When I left, you walked me to my car and kissed me and said you’d ring me the next day.

I was so in love with you. I felt myself to be the luckiest woman on the planet. Finally, I had what I craved - a wonderful, single, available man whom I loved, admired, adored and respected. I was on top of the world.

Then you rang me as promised. You apologised for not telling your friends that I was your new partner; I said that was understandable. We chatted about the party then I asked when you were coming over. Then you dropped the bombshell. I will never forget, or get used to that word you used - ambivalent. You said you were confused and ambivalent and didn’t know what to do. You reminded me of the warning you’d given me - how you might pull away. Now you weren’t sure of the next step. So I suggested we meet on neutral territory to discuss it and we did - two nights later. I didn’t sleep those two nights. I lay in complete agony wondering how my life could turn upside down so suddenly. I wondered, was there still hope? But I didn’t feel there was.

When we met you said to me, “I can’t do this”. Those words haunt me. Somehow my defences went up and I told you I wouldn’t settle for anything less than surety. I wouldn’t put up with ambivalence. You told me I deserved better. You told me I was so wonderful, that you were psychologically messed up and you even said you weren’t sure you couldn’t do it. But I’d already decided by then. If you couldn’t do it then neither could I. I’d thrown up the barriers and I remember I even said some cutting things to you. You were concerned I’d sink back into depression and think all men were bastards. I told you that you weren’t that irrisistable and I wasn’t going back into that dark place on your account.

Then I asked what you wanted - if you wanted to remain friends or go our separate ways. You said you’d expected it would be the end of our friendship because you’d expected me to get upset and beg you to give it a try, to work on it. When I didn’t you said you’d love to stay friends. We even decided to go ahead with the trip to Deep Creek. Then, we had dinner together and walked down the street. I said to you, would it be totally weird for two people who have just decided to only be friends to hold hands walking down the street. You said, yes totally weird, as you grabbed my hand. I loved holding your hand. The adrenalin was in full force in my system and I wasn’t upset or sad and felt strongly we were doing the right thing.

I still felt we’d made the right choice for a few days afterwards. Then you took me to Deep Creek - the bittersweet day I’ve described elsewhere. Such a beautiful, sorrowful day. I wanted to touch you all day, and sometimes you touched me fleetingly. We sat very close together watching the waves crash. A profoundly beautiful day. You bought me the rosebush for my garden. Driving home in the dark I had the strangest feeling I was never going to see you again.

From then on we saw each other only twice - each time a month apart. We met at the markets and both sat in the same cafe for half an hour with a wall between us before realising the other was there. That symbolised where we had got to in our relationship - a huge wall between us when we were in fact sitting within arms length of each other. We had a pleasant, stilted evening. We met again a month later for a bush walk and dinner. I could feel the distance between us growing. I hated it. Then you went overseas.

You were gone for six weeks and I didn’t hear from you at all. On your return you maintained your silence. I decided that it was for the best - the growing distance between us made me sad and I thought it best we went our separate ways. I still wasn’t over you though. I was profoundly sad for a very long time. I struggled to come to terms with the twist and turn of events. I took a long time to accept what had happened - I felt very cheated, ripped off, for a long time. I couldn’t understand why it had turned out this way. I cried many tears and visited some low, dark places in my mind. But I didn’t succumb to depression again. I just couldn’t quite work out how to let you go and move on. But I worked on it very hard. Letting you go, releasing you, setting myself free.

Six weeks after your return you contacted me out of the blue and sent me your latest poem. In it you sounded so depressed and hopeless. I, of course, was thrown into a complete tizzy. I had let you go and was trying to move on with my life. But I wasn’t strong enough to resist the lure of seeing you again. And so we met up several weeks after your email. Lunch was a bit stilted; it had been four months since we’d last seen each other. It was a new beginning in a way, as though the slate of the past had been wiped clean. I was so nervous driving to meet you. I had no idea what to expect. But I certainly didn’t expect events to pan out the way they did.

After lunch we walked in a nearby conservation park. As I stopped you came up and lightly caressed my back and neck. I was surprised but, I must admit, pleased. Later, when we stopped for a drink and a rest in a shady spot, you sat very close to me and again stroked my back. I draped my arm over your leg and then you were kissing me. I was in a state of shock - my mind wouldn’t function properly. But I do remember thinking, this kiss is good but not like it was before. This time I wasn’t in love with you in the way I’d fallen before. My hard work in letting you go had paid off it seems.

We talked for a while about what we wanted. You said you didn’t want a full-on relationship involving family and social routines. But you wanted the friendship, the sharing of outings in beautiful places and you said the physical aspect would be nice too. You said you found it hard to keep your hands off me out there in the beautiful, natural surroundings. Then you asked what I wanted.  I said I didn’t know - because right then I didn’t - but I blurted out how much I’d missed your friendship and wanted that back very much - that and the sharing of trips to places like Deep Creek. You agreed. I didn’t say it out loud, but I very much wanted the physical aspect too.

And so we finally consummated our relationship, out there amongst the gum trees with a stunning view over a tree filled valley toward the far off coast. It was the coming together of two bodies, two friends. We were somewhat restricted by the location. I was still in a state of mental numbness but not in an unpleasant way. This seemed right and inevitable. After I’d had time to assimilate everything I felt very happy with the way things were panning out. I went through some angst in the ensuing week as I struggled to adapt my expectations to the reality but once I managed to do that I realised what a good thing we had going here.

Then you came to my place again, for the first time since that first kiss six months earlier. And you made love to me all afternoon. And this is when things started to get dangerous for me again, although I didn’t realise it until later. Out in the bush our union had been unemotional. Here, in my home, in my bed, it became something more, something deeper. I could tell you felt deeply for me even if the words weren’t spoken. The way you cupped my face in your hands as you kissed me.  The tenderness and passion. This wasn’t just two bodies merging, it was much more. I loved it. Absolutely. It was so much more than I’d expected. It was beautiful. Meaningful. And I felt deeply and totally satisfied, physically and emotionally, for weeks afterwards.

Then it was my turn to go away overseas. You sent me a farewell email - you’d just spent the night at Deep Creek watching a magical moonrise in a place where you wanted to take me. I just glowed when I read your poetic email in Arizona.

But now I am in a dangerous place. I know I can have no expectations when it comes to you. And I know it is ultimately not going to be enough to satisfy me long term.  I don’t want to spoil this, what we do have. I won’t be pushing you for more, you can rest assured of that. I think this is perfect for who we both are at this point in time. This is probably what our relationship is meant to be and I’m so glad we’ve found this place. Its not even that I want more from you, P. But somewhere along the line I am going to want more from someone. I am going to want to try for that ever elusive commitment that scares me so much but that I also crave. You and I are too similar; I’m not sure we challenge each other to grow. I always thought we were two of a kind, kindred spirits, but that doesn’t necessarily make for a happy ever after… we reinforce both the good and the bad in each other.

I’m a bit scared right now, P, because I realise I’m going to have to let you go at some stage. I feel I’ve only just found you again. I can’t quite conceive of the idea of connecting with someone else as deeply as I’ve connected with you. I don’t believe I am in love with you at this moment, but I need to guard carefully to ensure I don’t cross that line again. And therein lies a big problem - because I want to be in love. I don’t want to protect myself. I want to surrender to love. I want to open myself up to someone completely and allow them to do the same. I want reciprocated love and intimacy and the sharing of our lives.

Dearest P, you are very special to me. I don’t want to lose you or what we have between us. I am happy to go along with this as it is for as long as feels right. But I just wanted you to know that it is not going to be enough for me forever; I may have to pull away from you this time, hard as I’ll find that to do. We neither of us need to be hurt anymore - we’ve both been through the emotional wringer. But I think I am ready to take a leap of faith, to love, to trust, to open, to surrender, to share through a relationship.

Our relationship, our connection, is what it is and it will be what it will be. I expect nothing more. What a path we’ve trodden these last twelve months since our first meeting. I am so glad I met you. I don’t know what the future holds for us; all I can do is live in this moment with what we do have. For now that is enough.

love Zen

Suddenly I crave a wild, mad, passionate love affair. One where I can just throw myself wholeheartedly into something deep and intense. Where I can give all of myself without fear and take as much as I can get from “him”. A love that consumes and burns. Where nothing matters but each other.

Where no fears can survive and love nourishes us both.

Unhealthy, yes. Attainable, no.

It is still Saturday - now around 6pm. It is getting dark outside and I can see a crescent moon from my study window. The trees are silhouettes against a denim coloured sky.

This morning I was maudlin. Now I am tired and weary but it is the righteous tiredness of one who has worked hard. I climbed ladders to clean my windows as I could hardly see through them. I planted a camellia, a rock rose and a salvia in my garden. I repotted two impatiens and an umbrella plant. I staked up my weeping eucalypt as it was weeping a bit too much. I collected all my rocks from around the world and placed them in front of the Buddha in my front garden - in a sort of rock mandala. I went to the shop for an extension cord and bought some organic produce from a local weekend market. I finished unpacking, finished washing clothes and washed the dishes that had been piling up since my return (in my laziness I’d left them).

Ok the hedges and the tree are still to be taken care of. I am wondering about hiring a chainsaw tomorrow to cut up the tree myself. I have a hedge trimmer on order and that will take a couple of weeks to arrive so the hedge will have to wait a bit longer. My hedges are huge and so I need a special implement that will extend and bend 90 degrees.

So now I feel quite content. I am meeting my friend for dinner in half an hour. My back aches but it is a pleasant feeling from doing manual work. For a lot of the afternoon I still felt the lack of someone around to help out and share these tasks with me. But I am over that now. I am back to just feeling blessed to have what I do have in my life. As always this was a little low spot on the roller coaster ride of life. I’m back to the even keel now.

Everything happens for a reason and we manifest our own circumstances. If I am alone then it is for reasons of my own making. It may not be what I feel I want but perhaps it is what I need. I’m not sure why exactly - I am self reliant and independent and always have been - I don’t need to learn to stand on my own two feet - in fact I feel what I really need to learn is to be interdependent with someone else and not be such an isolationist. Still time will tell…

Enough!! I’ve spent the past two and a half hours here on my computer re-reading all the lovely emails and text messages P has ever sent me and reliving the rollercoaster ride since we met. I have just realised too, that tomorrow, 11th May, is the anniversary of the day P and I met.

It was a romantic beginning really. We met by the light of an open fire in the shared space between his house and the place I was housesitting in the beautiful Adelaide hills. It was a dark, starry night. Cold and crisp and clear and totally beautiful. We never actually got a good look at each other that first night except by the fire’s glow. But we connected immediately. A year ago. Wow. So much has happened since then. At that time I’d just returned from 3 months in India, Nepal and Tibet. I had no job and no home and didn’t know what I was going to do next. I was surfing the waves of opportunity and that was how I came to be housesitting next door to P.

An opportunity presented itself out of the blue at a meditation meeting. A woman I’d never met was looking for someone to look after her home and three dogs for a couple of months whilst she was travelling. I took that opportunity whereas in the past I wouldn’t have. And it led me to meet a really beautiful man who has become very important to me.

For two months P and I were next door neighbours. That is how our friendship grew. He’d regularly pop in for a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. We’d walk the hills and trails of the surrounding area together. We walked along the railway line in the pitch dark to the pub. We gardened and weeded and chopped wood together. I met his kids. And we talked. And talked. And talked. We connected. Then I moved into my own home - 45 mins drive away. I miss not living next door to him.

And now I had better go and do some gardening and housework and ground myself in reality. It is a lovely day here, just right for pottering outside. I have just had the joy of watching a blackbird and a spoggy playing in the birdbath. Such fun they had splashing each other. Birds are very cheeky and playful creatures. Devas

9am Saturday morning. I arrived home from the States on Wednesday morning. I have adjusted well with my body time clock and don’t seem to be suffering any jetlag at all.

But something is at work in my psyche and it is uncomfortable. My solar plexus is flaring up and I feel again unsettled. The whole ‘being alone’ concept has flared up again for me - especially this morning when I woke.

Maybe it is just that I need to get back to work, back into a routine. I’ve had two days since I got home where I’m not doing anything social although I have spoken to people on the phone. I’m having dinner with my best friend tonight. Somehow, suddenly, I feel alone and a bit bereft again.

I really enjoy what I have going with P. It works for both of us. But this morning I realise that it is not enough for me - ultimately I do want a partner who is there on a day to day basis. I do want a man who is committed to me, and I to him. This doesn’t necessarily mean living together or spending all our spare time together. I don’t mind an unconventional relationship - in fact that is probably what I am really looking for if I am honest with myself. When I say I want someone who is there on a day to day basis I mean that in the sense of ‘knowing’ they are in my heart and I am in theirs, daily. Text messages, emails, phone calls perhaps would help. It doesn’t need to be daily physical contact.

I’m still not sure if I could live with someone full-time. I guess it would be worth giving it a try at some stage. It is not the physical presence that I feel I need so much as the emotional presence and connection. There are many ways to communicate and keep in touch these days. Of course there are definite benefits to coming together physically - for sex, for hugs, for kisses and for holding hands. How nice to have someone to help out with the weeding or putting out the rubbish sometimes.

I am at a dangerous place right now I’ve realised. I need to walk the fine line with P between enjoying what we have and acknowledging its rightful place in my life, whilst being careful not to fall in love with him again and start expecting more. I also need to keep myself open to meeting somebody else who can give me what I need and want in a relationship.

You see, with P, there are strong feelings on both sides and our coming together is beautiful on every level. I have no desire to live with him, to see him every day or to be more a part of his life. But I do find I spend a lot of time thinking about him and wanting more contact via email or text or phone. Perhaps it has flared up again at the moment because I am in that limbo between holiday and work. When I am in the thick of things at work I don’t think of him so much. When I was in Arizona I did think of him sometimes but I had plenty of other things going on to occupy my attention. Here I am with four days in between and my thoughts turn naturally to him. I’d like to see him - it is nearly a month now since our last encounter.

I am not in love with him anymore but I do love him. As I love many people. I can’t afford to fall in love with him again for I believe I’ll get badly hurt. I know I am still open to others because I was certainly taking an interest in some of the men in Arizona! If I was truly in love with P I probably wouldn’t have noticed them - but I did

There were actually three men at the conference that I found extremely attractive in one way or the other. This pleased me - I feel I am still ‘available’. The last thing I want is to energetically turn away a potential partner because of my involvement with P. It is a balancing act as I said before. Some people say I should give up P and keep myself completely available for someone else who will commit to me. Maybe… but I am not ready to do that. I get such pleasure and enjoyment from being with P and to be honest I feel I’ve earnt some fun in my life. I’ve lived quite a serious and staid life without much emotional sustenance - love and sex. I feel it is finally my turn to have some fun. I was celibate for seven long years, and they were not happy years either.

I do feel very connected and bonded with P. That will be hard to give up I know. But at some stage I will have to. I don’t think he and I are destined to be partners. Neither of our families knows about our involvement - so it is clandestine in that sense. We are both single and free so we are not hurting or cheating anyone with our involvement. But he will likely never be ready to take a further step with me. It is a bizarre experience to feel so connected to someone but to know they are not the right one to share the rest of my life with. P and I are kindred spirits - two of a kind - with a deep longing for freedom and unconventionality whilst both being utter, total, soppy romantics underneath. I think we both really long for total merging and communion with another and yet are both totally terrified of it at the same time. Can you merge with another and yet remain free?

I have managed to spend over $2000 in the space of a few days. First paying for the hotel room in Arizona and today I had my car serviced. It needed new shock absorbers and two new tyres. An expensive week. Not looking forward to my next credit card bill.

Money is something I’ve never had to worry much about. Sure I’ve had times when I have, in theory, not had enough coming in to meet my expenses but somehow I’ve always trusted that I’d be ok financially - and I have. It isn’t because I earn loads of money or have a private income - it is just a belief that I have that there will always be enough.

It works too. I remember a decade or so ago being really strapped for cash. I had a mortgage to pay and had just been made redundant from work. I returned to full time study for over a year but the redundancy (which was totally unexpected) netted me a payout (which was unheard of in the company I worked for at the time) that enabled me to pursue my interests and pay the mortgage for a year.

Other times I’ve needed small specific amounts - and the cash has appeared unexpectedly. A tax refund, a gift, a lottery ticket win, a reimbursement for something or other.

So generally speaking I don’t stress about money. I give a fair bit away to charities because I believe that money needs to flow. It seems the more you give the more comes back to you. I have been made redundant three times in my working life - more than most people. Yes, those have been stressful times in many ways but they have been lucrative financially - I’ve had $58,000 in payouts over the years. In Australia we have long service leave after 10 years continuous service with an employer - as I have never worked anywhere more than 5 years I have never benefited from this three months leave on full pay. But I figure that my redundancy payouts have more than recompensed me for missing out.

I have never counted how much money I have spent on travel and study but it would be a considerable sum. My faithful canine friend, Shadow, cost me a small fortune due to medical problems she developed (her medication alone was $100 a month for 7 years). I don’t begrudge a single cent that I have paid out for any of these things. Money is not to be hoarded but to be used. I know that is easy for me to say as I’ve never gone without, but I do think it is this attitude that helps that. I have been unemployed or only working part time and trying to pay a mortgage and run a household at various times - when the books definitely didn’t balance on paper - yet somehow I managed. I’m not really sure how to be honest.

Beliefs play a large role in our lives and what we manifest. It seems money is one area that I am ok in. I have no fears about meeting my basic needs - survival, shelter, food etc. I have a tendency to find beautiful places to live in - even when I’m renting. I do ‘homes’ really well.

It is just the emotional realm that has caused me so much grief over the years and I know this is also due to my underlying beliefs. Only in this area they are not so positive. But they are slowly changing into more helpful ones with the help of some wonderful people in my life - all of you included.

I can easily believe in abundance financially, can I transfer that belief into an abundance of love too? I’m getting there

So right now I am not stressing over the heavy financial commitments this week has brought about. I am good at budgeting and am good at saving money so I have enough to cover these bills. I am not generally extravagant and will probably be very circumspect in my spending for a while now. But hey, when you are on holiday you have to spend up, right? Right! And I need my car to be in good shape and reliable. And guess what? I haven’t done last year’s tax return yet - and I have a feeling it will result in a refund of around $2000 when I do get around to doing it. Sweet…

I am finally beginning to readjust to being home. I felt disoriented and dopey for a while there. Last night I slept for 14 hours. My flight landed about 10am and I went to bed at 6.30pm. This morning I felt rested but unsettled. I didn’t know what to do with myself somehow. But that has now passed and I am very glad to be home in my own wonderful bed with the lovely peace and quiet of my surroundings.

I enjoyed my visit to Arizona and I enjoyed meeting Bekki. We had a great time together all in all, especially considering we’d never met before spending ten nights in the same room! It could have been murder really if you think about it. Oh, we had our moments - just as any two people in close proximity would have done - but we worked through it ok and I think we’ve both learnt things from each other - I hope so anyway.

My focus now I’m back is on my garden. There has been a lot of rain in my absence (hooray!) and everything is looking lovely and green. Including the weeds I need to trim my hedges and chop down a plum tree that has split in half. I have some plants to bed in the ground and potplants to pot on. I’m doing the domestic routine thing now to help settle back into normality.

The weather here is lovely now, cool with some sun and some cloud. It hasn’t rained since my return but everywhere is still damp. Arizona reminded me of Adelaide in the spring - hot and dry. It was in the 90s most days which is bearable but too hot for me over all. It is lovely to come home to cooler weather.

I will now attempt to catch up with my blog reading and see what you have all been up to while I’ve been away. I’m sorry not to write anything profound or deep at this time but I am just readjusting. I believe things are going on in my psyche on a superconscious level that I can’t quite articulate or make concrete at this time. My lower mind has kicked in again after being on holiday itself for ten days, and it is giving me some ideas for the future.

I had several meetings with people at the conference, especially a wonderful woman who lives here in Adelaide and who I consider a mentor/teacher. Contacts have been made with other internet/multimedia people including a freelance editor/producer/director from Hollywood. Some plans are on the drawing board for projects we might begin to work on. Funding is being sought too. I think things will begin happening in that area fairly soon. I won’t be giving up my day job though It would be a long time I imagine, before I could make a living from these projects. But I think I am in the right place in my paid employment - the direction it seems to be taking dovetails beautifully with the projects I would like to be involved with for my service work. All seems to be panning out as it should.

I trust. I have faith. Life is good, all in all. I feel better than I have ever felt with my life as a whole. Sure it isn’t all I would really like it to be yet, however I have plenty and am learning to be happy and content with what I do have, especially when I do have so much. Emotionally, I am more settled than I have ever been - the great yearnings and longings have passed. Somehow, without quite realising it, I find I have enough going on to satisfy my emotional needs. It isn’t what I imagined I’d need or want, yet somehow it works. It is not what my daydreams entailed all these years, however reality sometimes is better than fantasy. Such I am finding now.