Another day in the office, another half-hearted email from Mr Not so Interested. "How is your day?" "Day is fine" I reply. No answer. I am actually busy, got tons of work to do, and he knows. As if I'm going to start describing 'had few phone calls, one was about.... and the other one was about...' No, that's not my kind of thing, trivia is not my idea of fun, exciting, stimulating conversation that will set my heart on fire. Anyway he should be replying by now why isn't he? What is his problem - he asked me a boring question, got a boring answer. The question determines the answer. And what is the point of asking someone about their day if you have no intention of making an offer for the evening? I'm not liking this. What is his intention? Does he have an intention or just messing about? Time will show - my logical brain reasons. Hold on, why am I being so passive, waiting for him to do anything and driving myself crazy with over analysing, when I can get all the answers I need in a phone call. No, I'll do an email - less intrusive and confrontational. "Hey, you asked how my day was like many times before and I replied like many times before. Then you take ages to reply again like many times before. Do you think this communication is paving the way to somewhere good?" Send boom.
Now Mr Not so Interested is on one those Go with the Flow Guys, Who Knows Where It Might Lead guys. He is a spiritual coach, teaching people how to meditate, to stop controlling outcomes, to surrender to the greater consciousness behind every mundane event, and to embrace things as they pan out.
I met him at a time when trying to control anything was absolutely not possible, and I was shown bluntly by the universe how precarious existence is. I was on a roller coaster ride not by own choice and I was scared, but felt alive for the first time in many years. And that is when I met James, a calm, chilled out, enigma of a man. He said "I am a yellow lotus flower, whenever you feel scared, visualise a yellow lotus and call my name. I will come to you and help you". That was a time when nothing logical, nothing reasonable has helped. Choppy ice cold waves of circumstances pushing me off my board day in and day out, and I was tired fighting. So calling the yellow lotus flower was not a problem, that was the only good thing on offer.
James taught me meditation, mantras, chants, told me stories, interpreted my dreams, interpreted the strange events that shook and rocked my otherwise sturdy Taurean balance. I benefited from the meditation immediately, it was a difficult, demanding meditation, but brought enormous results. (Happy to reveal that meditation by way to those sincerely interested). I benefited from the chants - saw the fulfilment of long held wishes. And I felt immensely grateful. Then I began to recover the older me, slowly but surely my health returned, vitality, energy, motivation, began to come back. And as I got better I started needing less and less help, and our conversations began to change subjects, switching from higher consciousness to more mundane matters such as what is your favourite food, what are your plans for the weekend and how is your day. In the beginning it felt amusing, I held him on a pedestal, and was flattered that someone so occupied with spiritual transcendental matters was interested in the ordinary human me. But his trivial messages fell into a groove. And I concluded that somewhere along the line, he has lost interest, that is all he can summon himself to say. Out of some kind of falsely understood responsibility to keep an eye on me, as he knows me from the time when I was shaken and vulnerable. So I am actually angry. The last thing I need is someone to hang around out of pity. And I want to put this matter straight. Another email? Wait to see his reply on the previous one. Got it: "Dearest Louise, See beyond the mundane. If you tune deep within yourself you will feel my love, I love you on a subtle plane". Wow, dearest James, this was really the wrong thing to say to me, as it really feels and smells like a bullshit, and I am tuned in my divine feminine intuition, which is deeper than the deepest plane. "James, I am not interested in love on the subtle plane, but I like love on the most obvious plane. I need the love that is passionate and exciting, that gives me wings to fly, the strong kind of love, that ignites my fire. Not the weak, subtle kind of love." Send. His reply: "The obvious is not the truth, the truth is hidden". I reply: "James, you may be right, but that hidden truth is leaving me cold and bored. I need love like fire, your teacher Yogiraj talks about - LOVE like a dynamite (did you miss that lesson?), that creates sparkle and light, and fun and excitement, and adventure, and passion, and all the extraordinary things that they write books about, a love that is strong and decisive, and very very visible!"
I don't want to spend my days wondering does or doesn't he love me, but at the moment I wonder. And when a woman wonders, she knows that her question already contains the answer. As when we are loved - we know it.