(Part 2 – A Starting Place – can be read here)
“My head has got me places in life and… I can’t ignore it, even if all it’s doing right now is picking holes in what my heart is saying”
21st November 2001
How are you? Where are you?
It seems like ages since we’ve been in touch. Where we once had almost daily, and certainly weekly, contact – those beautiful little emails that let me know how things were in your world and that made the distance between us seem so much smaller – now there are only fragments making their way through to me. I don’t know what’s going on in your world anymore and I worry that things are not going well. No, that’s not quite true. I know things aren’t going well. But it’s how badly they’re going that I worry about. I feel guilty about still doing all the normal stuff – going to work every day, having dinner with friends, shopping, going to the pictures – while it seems your life has crumbled around your ears.
When I’m not on guard to the fears that lurk in the back of my mind, I sometimes imagine you sleeping in a gutter, destitute and without support. I hope that’s not how it is, that I’m just blowing everything out of proportion. Still, after the bits you shared with me it’s hard not to imagine that things might be going very badly for you. I wish there was something I could do – I feel so helpless all this distance away.
Here, I’m carrying on pretty much as I was. Learning to adjust to the life of a separated mother and all that means for me, as well as for my daughter and for her father. It’s not easy but it could be a lot worse and I’m grateful that we’re managing to muddle our way through. There are times when the sight of her little face reminds me of the nights when she’s absent from my life – nights when I can’t simply pop into her bedroom to check up on her, or to kiss her while she’s sleeping because she‘s with her father. It can be heartbreaking, but I try not to dwell on it. She seems to be taking the separation in her stride – even loves my new apartment – and I don‘t want to be introducing more sadness into the atmosphere around her than is necessary.
It’s also hard to have to distance myself slightly from someone who was my friend, never mind my husband, for so many years out of respect for his need to come to terms with what has happened. It seems unfair on him to be as openly loving as I may feel at times when he might interpret that as a desire on my part for reconciliation. So I keep my emotional distance from him and try to avoid too much sadness around her – not always easy to do. You know all this, though. You’ve had your own share of it.
My decision to return to studying part-time has really lifted my spirits, though, and given me something to focus on. It’s been a long time coming and something I pushed away as selfishness for years. I know better now – know that we suppress parts of ourselves not only at peril to our own long-term welfare but to that of others as well. I really wish things hadn’t happened between us in quite the way they did, causing hurt to those around us. But I’m certainly not sorry they happened. How could I be, after the love we found again? I’m more alive in myself than I have been in years, more determined never to shut down again on what I know is right for me.
I still remember when your first email arrived last year and how stunned I was. It shocked me so much that all I could do was stare at the floor for hours on end, feeling these waves of emotion well up from somewhere so deep inside I didn’t even known it was there. How could I possibly still love you after all those years, when I barely knew you? How could you feel the same way? And if we still felt the same way about each other, then what about our marriages? Were we just rekindling something because we were unhappy, or was there more to it? I was so confused and overwhelmed by the strength of the emotion.
I think I must have thrown hundreds of questions at you over the next few weeks, trying every angle to prove that I was mistaken, that it couldn’t possibly be love but rather some strange delusion. But you answered each one perfectly, proving the connection to be a real one. You always seemed to know the right thing to say or do – how to respond to anything I said in a way that fitted me perfectly.
And then, in the months that followed, I remember how I tried to make sense of those peculiar pulling sensations I would feel on my heart from time to time – the timings of which you always corroborated as being when you had just opened a letter from me or were thinking particularly strongly about me. My body just seemed to know when you were thinking of me. It is such a curious connection we have that I still can‘t quite figure it out!
I know we talked a bit about fate, and you know I don’t believe there is such a thing, even after all this – that I think we make our own choices. And yet I struggle to find another explanation for what brought us together in the first place and for what we are now rediscovering between us a second time. In the solitude of my new home, when the day is done, I have been spending time recently exploring what this connection might be and I’d love to be able to talk to you about some of what I‘m reading. You’ve always been more open to the weirder aspects of life – fate, karma, psychic phenomena. None of these have really had much relevance in my life until now, busy as I’ve been with the normal occupations of business, young child and all the distractions that a reasonable income can offer.
Last week I was thinking again about that pulling feeling I get in my heart and that churning sensation I feel in my lower belly when you turn me on. And I remember you asking why it is that the channels between us seem so open when they’re not so open with others in our lives. Anyway, I began to look up ‘chakra connections’ on the internet. Don’t ask me why, it was just one of those inspired moments I suppose. I can’t even remember where I heard the phrase. I always thought I understood about chakras from yoga but I’m beginning to realize that they have just been mental concepts for me until now, rather than an experienced reality. I think, though, that what I’ve been feeling over the last year with you are sensations in my second and heart chakras, corresponding to what’s happening in yours.
As I searched the web, I found a few articles about how people can have energetic cord connections between them – especially people who’ve been close as we have. Although it had been decades since we’d met, it seems that these energetic connections don’t necessarily dissolve over time or distance. Sounds like quantum physics, eh? Time and distance don’t matter, which explains why we can feel each-other so strongly despite them. And if the chakras hold energy, which it seems they do, then if I am holding strong emotion in my heart chakra and there’s a connection from my heart chakra to yours, then you can feel it too. I know it sounds a bit wacky – or maybe it doesn’t to you – but it also perfectly explains what I’ve been feeling. You know, those experiences I’ve been having of just knowing that you’re thinking about me at particular times. Maybe psychics aren’t so psychic after all! Maybe we can all tune into these connections and chakras if we know how and have the right opportunities.
While you just seem to have accepted everything that’s happened between us under the guise of destiny, I’ve been like a dog with a bone all this time trying to find a logical explanation for what I’ve been feeling through my connection with you. Please forgive me if you feel a certain ‘so what’ about all of this! But I thought you might be intrigued by the deeper mysteries of it too.
I also came across one particular article which really seemed to answer the question of why the connections with me were so open when they haven’t been with your wife. It spoke about how we hold things inside ourselves when we don’t express them – you know, the small annoyances, hurts and even pleasures that we think we can’t share with another. These small things build up over time, clogging the chakras and the connections we have with another, kind of like dirt in a pipe. If we’re conscious of this ‘build up‘, we know when it’s getting to the point of cutting us off from someone completely and we can take steps to address it. But if we’re not conscious of it, or don’t address it, the build up continues to such a degree that we find ourselves isolated from people we may once have felt close to. You and I haven’t been around each other enough to have that build-up of debris between us and so the channels are relatively clear. That’s not the case with others in our lives, though.
I’m not sure how you clear the channels once they’re blocked. It’s one thing to say ‘talk about it’ but do we always know what we need to talk about? And is another always ready to listen? Maybe it’s easier not to let the channels get blocked in the first place and yet how many people really have that choice? When I think back on how I shut down on myself and how I must have blocked my own ‘channels’, I cringe. But I still don’t know that I could have done it differently unless the circumstances were different. I just did what many people do. I accepted that the world outside me was more real than the world inside me and then focused on adapting myself to fit it. I shut off the parts of myself that didn’t seem to fit or that couldn’t find a home in the outer world, and made the most of the parts of myself that did fit. Up until recently, I haven’t been unhappy. Compared to most, I’ve had a pretty easy ride through life. And yet I’ve always carried this yearning for more – more depth, more fulfillment, more connection, more something. Reconnecting with you brought this yearning back to the surface again with a bang. Should I thank you or blame you?! I haven’t found a way of satisfying the yearning just yet but at least I’m not suppressing it anymore or judging it as wrong.
My logical mind is still full of unanswered questions, though. It can’t deny the strength of the experiences I’ve had with you any more, so now it’s trying a different tack. It’s saying things like, ‘well, why do you feel it with him and not with anyone else’. How do I answer that? There are plenty of others in the world with whom I have no baggage but with whom I certainly don’t feel this incredible connection. Is it because we are – after all – soul mates? Am I finally accepting that this is the only acceptable answer? Or is it because we met up when we were at such a young and impressionable age that it had such a lasting impact? You know, getting under each other’s skin before our defenses were fully formed? I still don’t have answers my mind can be satisfied with, though my heart is leaning towards the former. I’ve never had this connection with anyone else – this deep knowing and understanding. And I did think you were my soul mate when we met the very first time all those years ago – but what did I know as a teenager? Can I really accept that explanation now as a grown woman? I know you don’t struggle with your head in quite the same way that I do, but my head has got me places in life and I’m proud of its intelligence so I can’t ignore it, even if all it’s doing right now is picking holes in what my heart seems to be saying.
One thing it is saying, though, which I would like to follow through on, is that if we can pick up on each-other by accident through these chakra connections, then we must be able to do it on purpose. I wish we were in closer contact (I know I sound like a broken record saying that, but it’s such a gap in my life not being able to simply talk to you!) so that we could practice and see if it’s possible. But I’m going to do it anyway. I’m going to see if I can somehow tune into what’s happening for you and send you some of my own thoughts and feelings in return. I’ll keep you posted on how I get on! Maybe, when you read this – if you ever read this – you could make a note of times you feel me particularly strongly and tell me what you felt. I’ll try to remember to write down the times when I’m trying to deliberately ‘tune into’ you and we can compare notes some time in the future.
And now I’m so wishing you were closer. The phone’s just sitting there in the corner and it seems such a small thing to be able to do, to lift it and dial a number – and yet I can’t reach you. It’d be so much easier than trying to ‘tune into’ you telepathically. As I write this I can feel that quiet sadness settle on my shoulders again like a delicate gray shawl that hides the colorful dress underneath. I really don’t understand why we can’t just talk. Are you really in such a bad place that you can’t receive phone calls? Mark, can’t you see how normal it is to be able to talk things through to some kind of resolution? Is it reality that’s keeping you hidden from me or a belief that you need to be punished for the breakdown of your marriage?
On that note, I think I’ll just say good night. I was feeling all up-beat a little while ago, intrigued by what I’d discovered about chakras and connections, and the prospect of exploring them a bit further. Now I feel like I’m being dragged down again into that strange despair which seems to dog this relationship.
I hope you’re okay.
(The Blog Novel of the Letters unfolds here weekly during the autumn and winter. If you’d like to be alerted as they are published, please just ‘follow’ my blog).