A Spiritual Encounter

A Spiritual Encounte 

I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.

Nikos Kazantzakis


Last week’s revelations have altered me forever. I had a cataclysmic shift in perspective, when I finally saw that I, as an Emotionally Eager Woman(EEW) contorted myself in futile attempts to elicit heartfelt reactions from Emotionally Unavailable Men(EUM). Now that’s a sentence! It describes a reality that NO LONGER EXISTS! I am free of this self-destructive, soul-destroying pattern of behaviour. This past week has been delightful and different. Gone is my need to be told I am loveable. Gone is my desire of wanting to be wanted. This lifelong, unconscious, beguiling determiner of my behaviour with men, finally broke through to consciousness! The sonic boom it created seemed as loud as the meteor in Russia. The pain in my heart, broke into tiny pieces, just like the shattered panes of glass in Chelyabinsk. And in time, these shards will be washed away!

I’ve had experiences during the last 7 days that were entirely new to me. I flirted with emotionally available men, rather than waiting to be noticed by EUMs! I taught drama to a delightful Grade 7 class. I committed to visit Vienna(without a man) in celebration of finishing Week 52 of 52 for The Other Woman Blog! I planned a communal food garden with a young couple I befriended in my neighborhood. I smiled at my reflection. 


The purpose of The Other Woman Blog has been to unravel my contained and confined femininity. As I celebrate the sensation of freedom today, I have the strength to examine some of the forces behind the formation of my behaviour with men. I was an obedient daughter, and never openly provoked my father, that is, until I brought home my first serious boyfriend. Up until this obvious act of defiance, I employed passive aggressive tactics to express my rage. With his penchant for violence, I felt I had no other choice. For example, as a teen, I would stack the drying dishes from the evening meal, so precariously, that inevitably, the next morning as my father put them away, they would CRASH BANG to the floor. Hearing him swear from the safety of my bedroom I would laugh to myself, delighting in my ability to enrage him. Every day, I systematically burned the potatoes for the supper meal, knowing how much dad hated the pervasive taste of charcoal. And when I set the table, I gave him the chipped glass, the fork with the bent tine and the plate that swirled when he tried to cut his food. My father remained unaware of the lengths I had gone to elicit a positive, unequivocally joyful response from him…I got great marks, I was polite, and I said ‘no’ to sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. So by 20, I had given up on him and transferred this desperate plea for male attention to my ‘father replacement’.

My Old Boyfriend

My Old Boyfriend

Nothing says you’re a failure as a father more eloquently than when your daughter chooses a much older boyfriend, who bears a striking resemblance to the patriarch! At 20, I chose B as my boyfriend in a misguided belief that a facsimile of father would give me the attention and emotional support I craved. The side ‘benefit’ was the anger and humiliation my father felt over my choice. B was 20 years older than I, which made him 13 years younger than my father. They could trade WW11 stories and gloat over the fact that they still had their hair in middle age. I was incapable of discerning B’s motivations for being with me, as my need for male approval, superseded any logic or good sense. I failed to see how I was hurting myself in this odd relationship. My unfulfilled emotional needs dictated my choices. I’ve come to see that any behaviour that defies logic and common sense, is driven by unconscious need.

One night, after meeting B, my father offered me his first bit of advice…”A man doesn’t have to buy the cow, if he gets the milk for free.”  His comment infuriated me. It was rude on so many levels, that I blurted out “F*** YOU.” Shocked that I would say this to him,  he slapped me with incredible force, across the face. Broken-hearted, I ran from the house, out into the blackness of the summer night, weeping and suicidal. I sat on a swing in a nearby playground, planning my death, when an overwhelming energy pulled my gaze upwards, into the splendour of the sky. Transfixed by what I saw, my pain subsided. The beauty unfolding above my head, was the counterpoint to the strife I had been experiencing with my father. In that moment, in my soul, I found hope and enough strength to walk back into the house, knowing that life’s hardships would always be balanced by its beauty. SORRY, YOUTUBE IS NO LONGER ALLOWING ME TO USE ANY OF THE FOOTAGE FROM THIS AMAZING EXPLOSION! 

40 years ago, this cosmic extravaganza kept me out of the morgue. Its unparalleled magnificence gave me a reason to live, a philosophy of life and a sense of hope. Although Alister Chapman’s YouTube clip is not exactly what I saw, as my event had more pinks and purples, the majesty of the music, echoed my feelings!

WEEK 33 OF 52



Last week’s Blog Post, Week 32 of 52, Ending My Search for Emotionally Unavailable Men, marked the 8 month point in my 12 month journey towards finding The Other Woman within myself.

8 is symbolic of completion to Buddhists and celestial order to the Hindi where  the 8th Chakra is the Chakra of the Soul. To the Christians, 8 is symbolic of rebirth and regeneration. To the Pythagoreans, the number 8 is the symbol of love and friendship and to the Chinese and other Asian cultures, 8 represents the whole, the totality of the Universe. And for the kinaesthetic learners in the group, you will not be able to fold a piece of paper more than 8 times. 8 is infinity – Paradise regained. 8 is a universally recognized power number.

After 8 months of slogging and blogging through the mire of my psyche, my unconscious drives, my memories and my habits I declare a success! For the first time in my conscious life, I feel free of my need to ‘work’ on myself, in hopes of receiving a declaration of sincere, unreserved, unfettered love from the man of my dreams.

Cosmic Infinity

Cosmic Infinity