I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought about was the Jazz Festival that's coming up next month. For any other individual, this wouldn't have been much of a thing. For me, this represents huge progress, because its the second day in a row that I woke up and didn't immediately think about Pete. I'm really glad I'm making progress in this. On top of that, I ended up in a 3-way hug with some classmates and I didn't immediately fall into tears about Pete. I'm finally moving forward. On the other hand, it seems like I'm constantly being tested in the fuckery department. Yesterday, a former classmate I'll call Eric hit me up. I was bored and stuck in traffic, so I took the moment to reconnect for the first time in 2 or 3 years.
Eric jokingly accused me of intentionally quitting talking to him some years ago. I assured him that was not the case, but that life simply happened and that grad school doesn't leave a lot of time for extraneous conversations. I confessed that I'd been so busy in the last 2 years, that my dating life at some point consisted primarily of my young friend in undergrad. Eric grew a tad miffed and reminded me that the whole time we sat together in our Human Behavior class that I never threw the cookies at him. I reminded him that unlike Eric, my young friend didn't wear a wedding ring the whole time we were in class. Eric stuck to his original story of being separated at the time of wearing the ring. I told him that separated or not, I wasn't trying to get caught up in some shit. Eric segued into asking about now. I gave him the whole "going through a grieving period" thing, he did the typical "condolences" thing and we chatted a bit more before he needed to go get some work done. He called me back last night, while I was in the middle of my House of Cards marathon, so I was polite, but I hung up quickly.
Ironically, one of my last intimate conversations with Pete, I confessed to him that my girlfriends and I, who are all around the same age, often commiserate about increased sexual urges at this stage in life. And here I am nearly 2 months after that conversation and I want nothing more than to be left the hell alone.
I arrived at the park and enjoyed the solitude. I originally chose against Piedmont Park because it serves as a bit of a distraction while jogging, but I chose to go nevertheless. I jogged and walked as always, but while jogging, I found a quiet dock by a lake and realized that after all I've been through, I'm long overdue for some mediation. I was irritated at the sound of a loud dump truck in the background, but I reminded myself that masterful meditators can move past distractions, and so should I. I rested my eyes and allowed myself to relax, focusing on the trees beyond the lake. Then it hit me like a bolt of lightening. Allow this moment. Allow the air to move, allow the wind to blow. Allow life to happen. Allow these trees to grow. Allow the ripples in this lake to keep moving. What I needed was to stop trying to flow against the tide. Buddhism teaches that attachment is what creates suffering. All of my crying and mourning has been my attachment to Pete. I need to step back and allow life to happen, and unfortunately, in life, death does happen.