In
the wake of Valentine's day, let's look backwards on our lives, ponder
mistakes and certain losses. They are clues to something very important,
hiding there in your memories. They can teach you more than your
gains can teach you. Let me tell you about a dream I had last night.
In it, I was waiting in a restaurant for my sweetie, my heartbeat, my old
boyfriend. (Now passed on to the big wolf pen in the sky.)
In the dream, I waited and looked at my watch and waited with great heart longing as I adored this man for three decades. Finally, the waiter was closing and he sadly told me that the man wasn't coming and hey, guess what, he hadn't paid the bill. In the dream, I had to pay.
I got up soberly, went out to street with the heaviest heart ever. You know how in dreams, you can feel things a hundred times more keenly than in real life? Suddenly the scene changes and gets all peppy and lively & happy. All my Hollywood, fun galpals & astrology clients, two of them oscar nominated actresses, -- all of them bright, talented, creative, bright girls -- are roaming the city, having fun, amazing interactions, living life, doing good.
In the dream, I realize that these are women I could have spent more time with in the last thirty years. Women who care, women who dare. Women who are brilliant, creative, alive and even angelic. That guy sure wasn't. He was a devil to use up my life that way.
And in the dream, I have the sudden thought, 'who needed to waste thirty (#%)* years with HIM?" It was that sudden, "OOPS, I should have had a V-8" mental break through.
I wake at that point in the dream and lie there astonished, wracked, pondering it. I realize that we gals sell ourselves into slavery for a momentary throbbing of the ovaries, or even for thirty years of it and we miss a lot of the best and most important opportunities given us in our LIFE TRIP. Good ole Yoko Ono said it best. "Woman is the nigger of the world." We serve loyally, hours of unpaid time, years of it maybe. We serve purely, with heart and love. And whaddya get from the ole BOYFRIEND? Occasional meals out, movies. Stick around thirty years and you get aced out of the will. I sometimes say that my own dear friend died in-testate, meaning he hadn't the balls to leave me anything but sad memories. Regrets. But he left me a sadder but wiser girl.
So all I'm saying is 'balance your schedule'. Half goes to your sweetie and half to your girlfriends. Down the middle! Keeping yourself hewing to that line will keep you balanced, keep you from going overboard. Make time for your talented, bright, wonderful girl friends. Don't think that sexual passion with a man is the be-all-and-end-all of your life. I know Mother Nature gave you that ability, talent or proclivity as it helps make you a dedicated wife and mother, but don't give it to a boyfriend. Save it for a husband. Having all that Mother Nature passion for just some guy makes you a card-carrying sex addict. Not that you will be held in judgement by society as society never knows. And not that you will wear a social stigma of some kind. But when you're an addict, you miss a lot of what you were meant to do, see, learn, experience. You just live for the next fix and waste your youth on some guy who's getting away with murder, the murder of your youth, beauty, life, chance to have kids with a man who adores you and them. And you're just too graceful and great for that, sad destiny.
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