Somehow she managed to slip into the spinning doors past my searching eyes.  I spotted her ear length dark blonde hair in the waiting area of the restaurant.  We walked towards one another, she wearing a lovely hue of compassion and love on her face. I, relieved that this beautiful woman whom I respect and adore so unreservedly …loved me still; despite and through what felt like an avalanche of regretful choices I could finally no longer shroud with pleasantries, denials and schedules.

 

She reached out her arms and enveloped me with her support, love and acceptance.  I inhaled part of her knit sweater as I pushed back tears. 

 

We sat across from one another, I twitching my fingers and fidgeting my sleeve as we talked of all that had happened in between our last exchange of truth.”  It was if I was living behind a wall of isolation where I could not touch or be close to you or any of my friends.”  “ This thing kept me separated from my own life.  And I feel as if I have re-gained my life, again.”  “  Welcome back,” she smiled. 

 

But there was more…this I knew was somehow bigger; for both of us.

 

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”  “A loving restlessness became obvious in her eyes.  For the last almost decade we have loved, worshipped, prayed to and shared a life defining perspective of the same God together.  “I can not make my heart believe…and right now, I paused, it doesn’t.” 

 

A quiet sat softly between us as we gazed together at this unknown landscape before me. Vast; Dangerous; Breathtaking; Heartbreaking; Beautiful; Unknown; Terrifying… She holding my hand as she had done so often before.

 

I spoke with my counselor the following Monday about the knowing that my new paradigm would not be one that those I love will make peace with easily.  “What do you hope in then?”  She asked with quiet intensity.  My answer had always been blanketed with faith and God speak.  Without pre-meditation, I spoke from my heart…” I have hope in the opportunity to live authentically without the repression of bending my soul to fit in some box or line or place other than where it belongs.”  She, I’m sure was taken aback, as was I.  I had not truly expected to have an answer…a hope outside of pragmatic religiousness; but I did.  And it…is the most elating sense I can recall in quite some time.

 

I stand at the end of  a way I had never expected to come to.  No longer afraid of the notion of being nomadic of soul.  Authentic.  Unconvinced.  Open to the possibility…of life.