Just past nine on a foggy morning Sunday in August: waking to a friendly and very loud blue jay squawking outside my bedroom window, waking alone, and feeling all the space in the bed, feeling my own heartbeat, feeling my legs against the soft comforter cover, realising I am sleeping right in the center of the bed - I need make room for no one but myself.
It's been a week plus of days and nights of my own space. He's been on the road playing music, his life's work. As it got closer to his leaving I felt sad, that little girl sad, that homesick in the pit of my stomach sad: because as funny and strange as it seems, in the 13 years of together, we had never spent more than one night apart. New territory. For both of us.
A few days into this separate-ness, each of us in our own lives, I was so filled with joy. A happy and content and excited joy, all at the same time. It was just me, just my voice in my head, just my needs to be met, just my thoughts to think and be aware of, just me. I have always been quite content to have it be just me, myself and I: my mother often talks about being amazed that even at 4 or 5 months old, I could amuse myself for hours, no need for her to play, or entertain, or keep me company. That has never changed.
And yet, when you partner with another, there is so much that needs to be shared, communicated, supported, acted on, worked out, balanced. In this space apart, I can clearly see where I constantly stretch myself past the balance point. Where so much of my time is taken up with him: his needs, his feelings, his path in this life. Where my own needs, feelings, and path sometimes take a back seat to his, sometimes I put them on hold.
As the time has passed in the last few days I started feeling like I wanted him to be gone longer, that he could stay away for another week, even two. That I needed more time with the me, myself and I triumvirate, that I should have more solitude, more time. That sad and homesick little girl, the one who didn't want him to leave, was now mad at him for coming home.
If I am completely truthful with myself, I know that I need to learn to take the time I need when he is home. Truthfully, I have to put myself first when I need it that way, I need to speak up and say what I need, I need to take that responsibility.
He arrives home later this afternoon, he called from the airport in Chicago this morning, and I felt happy. Happy that he is getting on a plane and coming home, happy that I felt joyful about his return, happy that I had this space and time to learn a few more important truths about who I am with myself, and in this relationship. Speaking up about what I need in the moment, from him, and from myself, trusting my own voice, just my own voice, and knowing that speaking the truth of my own voice, my own thoughts and feelings, is just the right balance I need to find: whether high up in the air, or feet on the ground, joyful or confused, alone or together, together or alone.
Practice. It seems this whole life is about practice, and rhythm, and more practice, oh! and trusting that voice inside me, that voice that has always spoken a clear and heartfelt truth, that voice that has never let me down (tho I have let myself down on those few occasions when I didn't listen), that voice who knows who I am, that voice who is me.
I remember feeling like that some years ago, before the current Boy. I learned a very hard lesson by not allowing enough time for myself and devoting myself entirely to someone else's well-being before my own, and it ended up blowing up my life in a big way (but I'm glad for it now).
I'm glad that you're realizing how important it is to save moments for yourself whenever you need them. I feel like I have more to share when I am out enjoying the things I love and want to do and can bring some of that back to share with "us."
Keep making that time for yourself. It will be well spent.
xoxo
Posted by: tangobaby | August 18, 2008 at 10:54 AM
I could have written much of this myself. The balance between my needs and my voice and the needs of a partner is a challenge to me. I have recently realized how much more practice I need to do, so that me myself and I can hang out, whether we are home alone or not. Thanks for this thoughtful well written post.
Posted by: Mary Lou | August 19, 2008 at 12:41 PM
It is an incredible challenge to balance what we need with the needs of our partner. This is an almost daily struggle for me, but I am learning, bit by bit, how to say no when I need to and how to take care of myself...I have learned that in taking care of myself, I create the energy I need to take care of my partner as well. Sending you big hugs.
Posted by: Swirly | August 20, 2008 at 10:02 PM
It's a hard lesson, but we all must remember to put ourselves first sometimes. As women, we're so used to being caregivers, we often forget to take care of our own needs. And sometimes solitude brings the space and quiet to allow new ideas to percolate; when we are reunited, we have more joy to share and more to give. I always think about the Khalil Gibran quote about being together, yet separate, each with our own needs. xo
Posted by: Paris Parfait | August 22, 2008 at 03:18 PM
Oh yes... The relationship balance! We must love this push and pull, and tenderly rock ourselves back and forth into an even place, where both partners are giving and receiving... And still loving the dance. I'm glad you enjoyed your own time. I love solitude too! xo
Posted by: gypsy alex | August 26, 2008 at 01:41 PM
I admire all women artists who have mastered the art of taking space while in relationship--sharing lives. Sometimes I can do it and sometimes, I SO can't, and run away to Hawaii or something...have an affair with a dolphin and come home refreshed and ready to practice all over again.
Niya
Posted by: N I Y A | August 27, 2008 at 07:34 AM