On Being Reckless

Driving home to the Valley

I know there are a few in my circles of friends and family that wish/think I should wait to get married. Though they don't use the word, I know they consider me a little reckless. So let's talk about this. 

According to Dictionary.com, reckless means: "utterly unconcerned about the consequences of some action; without caution; careless." Quite the contrary I am deeply invested in the consequences of this action. I have shipped my life (15 boxes and soon 5 suitcases) to the other side of the world. I have procured employment and the proper paperwork. I am not just moving to another city or state to make a life with this man. The time and money and energy invested illustrates intention (a type of caution, is it not?) And there is only OODLES of care invested. From him to me, and from me to him.

Digging a little deeper, the Oxford English Dictionary defines it as: "Heedless of or indifferent to the consequences of one's actions; lacking in prudence or caution; willing or liable to take risks; rash, foolhardy; irresponsible."

All I can to that is that YES, I am willing to take risks. But as there are multiple hearts involved, I've made every choice with incredible responsibility. And this has not happened overnight. It's been months in the making. 

As I drove home from my Bon Voyage party late Saturday night, I thought a lot about the meaning of reckless. Primarily, I thought about what happens if one opts to NOT be a little reckless from time to time. Think of the people we admire throughout history--for actions big or small. I'll give you a list of a few to consider for this exercise (those bolded are some of my favs): Joan of Arc, MLK Jr, Queen Elizabeth I, Amelia Earhart, Gandhi, Georgia O'Keeffe, Rosa Parks, Sacagawea, Patrick Henry, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Harriet Tubman, Lewis & Clark, Anne Frank, the Dalai Lama. Shoot....even all of the religious/spiritual folks--Jesus, Buddha, Muhammed, Confucius, etc. All of these people were reckless in some way or manner. Think of young Anne Frank scribbling away in her diary, unknowingly documenting to inform the world.

Now, do not misunderstand me. I would never argue for being reckless with the heart or emotions of another. Nor do I think we should be reckless when young souls are involved. We should always assess the impact of our choices--for ourselves and all of those that could/may be impacted. I do not argue for a general disregard. However, I do think that if we desire a path that does not resemble the general route for someone of our age, generation, locale....then it may require a spoonful of recklessness to MAKE IT HAPPEN. It's the whole "Go big...or go home" attitude. When I first began to consider moving to Mongolia--sometime in October--I attempted to dismiss it. To qualify it as crazy. But my heart knew that IF we were gonna make a go of it, me moving there was the right choice. And then I simply thought, "And why not?" 

Sunrise over the FVS Prairie ("magic in it.")

As for the marriage.....it may seem reckless to those on the outside. I can see that. I have not yet known this man for one year. But I DO know him better than I've known any other man in my lifetime. We know one another beyond the intellectual and emotional realms. We know each other soulfully. My heart and soul is at home, at rest, when I am in his orbit. And I daresay he feels the same about me. This is not reckless for us--it is simply home and right. 

Before and After

Before and after pictures

I got my first tattoo on November 15, 1990, as my seventeenth birthday present (I was a junior in high school). For some time my mother had been asking me what I wanted and after a steady response of, "a tattoo," she conceded and took me to Eric Vondar's tattoo parlor in Chambersburg, PA. Because I was underage, she had to sign off for me to get it. She paid--$90, if I remember correctly--and watched while I got it (the rose tattoo). 

This was BEFORE the tattoo craze took hold in America. I was unique...for a very brief period of time. :) 

The following summer I went to Army Basic Training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. At it's completion, I got my second tattoo--a wolf in front of a vibrant setting sun (I will never forget the hot, beating, orange sun of Missouri's summer. Brutal!). The wolf had been my favorite animal since my early adolescent years and continues to be so. There is something lovely in the fact that they are loyal pack animals, but also that there is the occasional lone wolf that never aligns with a pack. They are beautiful and strong and free and wild. 

I became obsessed with tattoos for a spell. I subscribed to a couple of magazines and even did my informational speech (Communications class in college) on the culture of tattoos and how it was shifting in popular culture at that time (1993). I wanted to get a third one but could never settle on what to get and its meaning for my life...and so I never did. But before I head off into the land of the eternal blue sky, I did decide to get these two tattoos, both over 23 years old, recolored, refreshed. 

You see, my life before knowing Zorig was a bit muted, faded, lacking color and vibrancy in some departments. As mentioned before, I am blessed with an incredible family, my professional life has always been rewarding, and I've made damn good friends wherever I go. But my personal love life, before Z, did not have rich, dark hues, or a broad range of colors. I had been living as if in a state of colorblindness. I did not know what I could not see.....before Z. But then his words, his feeling, his pursuit and expression washed over me and my heart. My colorblindness is gone. My life's rainbow is bigger and bolder than ever imagined. So sometimes....you just need the opportunity to recolor your life. I'm digging these "afters"......

One Last Gig

In the Hacienda Courtyard, in my uniform

I stuck around in Colorado this long because I work a summer gig at FVS called the Gardner Carney Leadership Institute. I have had the pleasure of being their Director of Operations (a little like being both a Resident Assistant and a Cruise or Tour Director) for their annual Leadership Lab for the past three summers. This is not the type of work I had done before, and it grew me in new ways, in good ways. It made me humble and appreciative of so many people that we overlook in every day life. To accomplish my mission of a successful and enjoyable experience for nine faculty members and 59 participants, I worked closely with our dining hall staff and our maintenance and facilities crews. I texted and made phone calls early in the morning and after 9 PM, and they were always there to help and deal with the issue at hand. I was simply the liaison, the person to find the appropriate help to address an issue. (Thanks to Sharon, Eddie, Tommy, Conrad, Brett, Lupe, Ruby, Patrick, Bryan, Madeline, Iris, Tammy, and every other person that made the week awesome!)

View over our prairie one morning

This reminds me a bit of how they say (that strange collective they) we should all be a waiter/waitress, at least once in our lifetime. It provides perspective and appreciation for the work that those employees do. This is also true of being a behind-the-scenes person. I took pleasure in seeing the participants explore our campus, engage in the work with faculty and peers, and honestly, enjoy a few days away from their regular pace and way of life. Many of them take a moment to thank me, and it's strangely embarrassing. Because I'm behind the scenes, I prefer to be almost invisible. That's the humbling piece. 

When I moved to Education 10 years ago, a wise mentor librarian told me, "the most important people in the school are the admin assistants and the custodial crew. Know them, and appreciate them." That was valuable advice and I took it to heart. These are the people that get shit done! And if they can't do it themselves, then they know who to reach (and how) to accomplish the mission in the least amount of time possible. They make the business run, the world go 'round. 

"Oh the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss

At the closing dinner on Wednesday evening, the faculty took a moment to recognize my work and to wish me well on my Grand Adventure. They gave me a copy of Dr. Seuss's Oh the Places You'll Go and a gift card to Amazon (though I've had to give up Amazon Prime, I CAN still stock my Kindle! Yay!). Their gift was thoughtful and meaningful and just the way for me to head off into the wild blue yonder. It also prompted more participants to seek me out and "hear the story." 

Confession: I don't want to talk about the work I did this past week, BUT I do so love to tell my story. The story of Zorig and Heather. How a few days of friendship, followed by a long distance, virtual relationship, then led to a flight over the Pacific and seven weeks together to DISCOVER what was real, or not....has led to the biggest love and adventure of our lives. Yes, this is a story I will never tire of telling, or living. 

A bigger word for Surreal?

I have moved a number of times throughout my life. But this one takes the cake. It feels strangely as though I am entering a Star Trek episode. One week from today I will board a plane and 33 hours later I will arrive to my new home city of Ulaanbaatar. While I will take four or five large suitcases, I will travel those 33 hours with my carry-on and a personal item. Then I will be in our apartment where there will be 15 boxes of my life (12 shipped by container, 3 by air). And the new life commences. I am being plucked from one culture, country, way-of-life and dropped down into a wholly different culture, country, and way-of-life. There is no way to ease into this change, no transition to be had. It is all or nothing. And therein lies the state of my emotions/feelings. It is beyond or bigger-than surreal. There is only one synonym listed for "surreal" at thesaurus.com: hypnagogic. And that is no good since the definition is "inducing drowsiness." So surreal is all I have, the only word for this time in my life.

As the hours tick by, my excitement builds. February 10th--Zorig's departure from the USA--seems a faint memory. Soon we turn the page and begin a fresh new chapter and I can't wait to fill its pages.

These days everyone wants to know how the packing is going. Well, take a look at this picture and you tell me. Ha! I shuffle and move stuff around to get the heavy items distributed evenly so that every suitcase is under the 50 lb limit, but packed full. I am on and off the scale numerous times and a small pile for Goodwill grows bit by bit. Some things just can't make the cut. My suitcase count has grown from 3 to 5. But that is the LIMIT. No more. 

I told Zorig to be sure and bring a vehicle big enough for my luggage. His reply was, "maybe a bus?" Which made me burst out in laughter. This man has an exceptional sense of humor and a playful heart. 

I am continually moved by his spontaneous communications. He notices the little things, remembers previous conversations, and doesn't hesitate to ask questions or say what he thinks. Nothing is filtered out or avoided or disregarded. Everything is in clear view--honesty at the core of everything we say to one another. And I have learned to hold nothing back. I push through any doubts or insecurities. And that vulnerability provides phenomenal returns. Our understanding of one another deepens through each and every communication and connection. Though we are together and share a future life plan together, we are continually in pursuit and discovery of one another. This is a beautiful experience.

175 hours to lift off!

Predetermined Plan/Meandering Maze

I was recently asked, "Have you always been someone who just jumps?" (in regards to my recent life overhaul)

I hesitated to answer, unsure. I thought back through key decision points in my life. Eventually, I answered with a, "pretty much," as I didn't want to bore her with the long and winding thought process that led to that somewhat boring answer. 

This reminded me of a Fb message conversation this past fall with my best girlfriend from high school in which she said the following to me (about the same life overhaul): "You always find ways to be shocking in life.....," and "Btw.....you're crazy." After which she wished me all the best, of course. 

It's not that I set out to shock people on purpose--except that one day in 10th grade when I wore all black and black lipstick. That WAS on purpose! Quite frankly, I end up shocking myself first, then my choices and actions cause others to be (sometimes) shocked. I have periodically found myself lulled into a sedate or ordinary existence (nothing wrong with ordinary for some...in fact it is what they want and desire). These are NOT things I want for myself. But as my older sister talks about in one of her blog posts, sometimes we have to make a hard right or left out of the life ruts which we find ourselves stuck within. I have done this a few times. 

I've come to believe that there are two general types of people in the world--or at least within American society. I won't speak for the world at large. I believe Americans tend to look at their Life in one of two ways--as a Predetermined Path or as a Meandering Maze. I can't say I thought about this at a young age, or even as a twenty or thirtysomething. It has become apparent to me in the past year or so, as I reflected on my 41 years and analyzed and considered my choices, and the paths trod as a result. 

My ONLY for sure plan in life, which I knew from age 5 or so, was to go to college. That was a plan. I couldn't wait to get my hands on those big, weighty textbooks that my older sister had the luxury (burden?) of carrying around. But once college was checked off, my list was strangely blank and I've been making it up as I go ever since. I am of the meandering maze type. I did set goals along that meandering path, but they were not chosen or selected at a young age, nor were they part of a continuum of expectations for my future and life. 

The predetermined plan person has a blueprint in their mind of what their life looks like from a young age and they work to fill in the rooms with those people and things. A degree in this which leads to a career as that. They expect to meet someone, fall in love, marry, buy a house (perhaps in a specific location OR where the career has taken them), and then have a couple of kids (or one or more than two) and raise that family. They put money away for retirement and have an idea of what that entails (travel abroad, RV across the US, vacation home in Costa Rica, etc). Many people I know are on this path and are happy, content, and fulfilled. I'm so happy to know them and see them fulfill their dreams. However, there are also some, whom I know, that have not checked off certain boxes of their predetermined plan and they struggle. They are sad, angry, disappointed, or depressed as a result of not achieving said things. My heart aches for these individuals, as I love and wish for each of them all that their heart desires. 

As a teenager, I never would have predicted that I would someday live in Idaho, Colorado, and soon, Asia. I went where my college pursuits took me. I went to the west to be near my older sister. Then was deployed where I fell in love and made a new path to Colorado. Bored with a job, I pursued a second degree and made a new career path. I traveled with my father and visited my mother. Unexpected events happened along the way--like my week in the hospital last year where I did contemplate my mortality and what is was I was UP TO DO in this life. I decided to make drastic changes. Then unexpectedly and as a result of a trip with my father, I was pursued by a man 6,000 miles and an ocean away. I opened my mind and heart--to him and to an altogether different future. It's all beyond anything I could have imagined for myself. And it is lovely and exciting and exhilarating, and immersed in joy and happiness. 

Now, I know others that meander that are also not content or satisfied in life. They are yet looking......for something. Some aren't sure what it is that is missing or absent, but they do continue meander and search. 

There is not a "right" way to pursue life; though I would argue that a life lacking "pursuit" is a less than desirable one. But I would be interested in your thoughts or opinions in reaction to my musings. Did you make a plan for your life? Has it become what you wanted it to be? Are you making things up as you go? How has that worked for you? Yes.....please do share your thoughts with us here. I'm curious......

Last Meals

Ladies Luncheon in Monument

As I wrap up my final month in the United States of America, my days have become a smattering of "last meals" with friends and colleagues. I'll need to get to Mongolia so that I can go on a diet! But alas.....I know it will be a slew of "first meals" with new family and friends after I arrive. This is reality. Oh....the memories I am making. 

Officially, I would say the first of my "last meals" was with Laurel whom I met while in the Army National Guard. She and I had a four hour drink and eat fest at the Golden Bee at the end of May. I wrote about her back in May, in this post. Then it was a Ladies Luncheon in Monument at my friend Annamarie's home. She and I met in the summer of 2009 while doing the Southern Colorado Writing Project. Since then, I've had my last Mexican meal with my friend Dorothy (after which we went to the movies and saw Mad Max!). I've had my last corned beef hash breakfast with dear Gloria up in Woodland Park at the Hungry Bear (our half-way meeting place over the years). I've enjoyed an afternoon at Shuga's drinking beet-infused vodka; and ate my last "best burger in the city" at Denver's City Grille with Elaine (after our final visit to the lovely Tattered Cover Book Store-both of which are on Colfax Avenue). I've enjoyed Italian with my friend and co-worker David where I learned about the stomachs of cattle (nice to learn as I'm moving to a country that has just 3M people and 45M livestock!). I've enjoyed a calamari appetizer and nice bottle of wine with Jen at the Blue Star. 

At the Tattered Cover

I've enjoyed "last meals" at friends' homes. Homemade lamb and orzo stew with Vydia and Anita. Potluck dinner and wine tasting at Lorrie and Ty's. Wine and takeout Chinese with Julie. I took myself to Einstein Bros for a bagel and cream cheese (something I rarely eat these days). Then lunch with an advisee and her mother at Panino's (a local chain). This week I am busy running a conference at FVS (and enjoying my last opportunity to eat the incredible meals provided for us by Flik Dining Services on campus). 

But still on my hit list....IF I can squeeze them in:

• the Elephant Bar for their AMAZING creme brulee;
• Shuga's one last time....for wine and their Almond Butter Cake which is lovely;
• Burger and Fries at Red Robin (I can't explain it....but I predict that I will miss a good burger and fries the most. This makes no sense.....as MEAT is one of the two primary food groups in Mongolia. Dairy being the other. Soon...I might be eating a horse burger!!);
• Fried Ice Cream at Jose Muldoon's.

Okay...I have to stop there. I have NO idea why most everything is a dessert. I do not have a huge sweet tooth. Perhaps they are simply treats.....special occasion meals. I really don't know. I just worked 15 hours today. I'm exhausted. Time to sleep. 

Rainy Day Thoughts

My footprint made from Colorado rain water.

This morning Colorado is shrouded in a slow and steady rain. The air is cool and clean. The mountains are lost behind a white-out of mist and cloud. It's a perfect morning for coffee, my journal, and a new entry on the blog. This is a quiet time for me. As mentioned before, the shipping and moving is complete. There are no more preparations to get done. Just the passing of 18 days to come and go. (And a few odds and ends to wrap up in my Library and the conference to run.)

The primary reason I am moving to Mongolia is, of course, Love. We all know this. But there are other reasons--adventure, travel, personal growth, the opportunity to leave the trappings of America behind. And a desire to become selfless. Or rather, to be less selfish and become more selfless. I have no illusions that I will become entirely selfless, but I do have hopes of sliding from one side of this scale to at least be past the fulcrum in its center, and more on the "selfless" side than the "selfish" side. Yes, this is a desire of mine and I declare it aloud to you here.

While I chat with Zorig each and every day (and usually two times each day), I also chat with Enji (Zorig's teenage son) a few times each week. On occasion, I am chatting with TWO Zorig's.....as children in Mongolia take their father's first name as their last name (boy and girl). (Additional Note: Women in Mongolia do not change their names when they marry.) Daddy Zorig may be updating me on the progress of his building project, while Son Zorig is talking with me about movies, schoolwork, or our beliefs about ghosts. Zorig often shares pictures of the house renovations and Enji shares pictures, as well as audio and video clips. Though I am 6,000 miles away, these types of shares make the distance seem smaller, connect me with each of them in a personal way. 

Branches wet with rain.

I feel honored that these two males want me. I have been invited into their world, their lives, with complete and utter trust. Vulnerability is full and offered with no questions asked, no skepticism of my ability to love and be there for them. I feel loved, wanted, and needed. And I feel the beautiful weight of that responsibility. I want to be so good for each of them; to be a loving and caring female in both their lives. To never desert them (as some in the past have done). I want to be sure and honest and true, in the best way I can....for each of them. I want to be the safe space where they can dream and imagine. The encouraging voice that lifts them up. The arms that hug them, that welcome them home.

Their love and openness inspires and motivates me to see beyond myself. I never want to lose their trust, their open expression and conversation, their need for me. I want to serve it and expand it each and every day. They feed my heart and soul and mind. There is always something to share and something to learn. There is always more to discover about one another. And this makes me want to be oh so good for each of them in the ways they need it. To fill the canyons of their past hurts, to heal their wounds, to make each of their lives deeper and richer, more than it was before they knew me........

.....Because, you see, this is what they do for me. And so I want to be the crystal clear waters, reflecting back the love and care and trust they offer up so freely and easily. 

Mutual and deep love is not so easy to find or discover--but once you have it, you never want to let it go. And I find that it allows me, no--motivates me, to let go of the focus I have so long had on myself and to try and make my actions and words be about others. Yes, Selflessness is something I pursue in this new life. 

Time

The hours are what shock me...in 595 hours I'll be in UB

Zorig once said to me (and I'm paraphrasing here) that a problem which can be solved with money, is not a problem. This statement caused me to stop and ponder. What an astute observation, I thought, and so true. We get wrapped up about money and it's one of the top causes for disagreements and tension in relationships. As I considered his words, I was prompted to ask what qualifies as a true problem.

Time, he said, was a problem. I would have to agree. Time is an illusive and shifting thing. If anything lords over the human race, it is time. 

I have had a love and hate relationship with her this year. In the fall I was anxious for December so that Zorig would arrive to me and we would finally see what there was between us. And yet, I needed all that time, those four and a half months, to grow in relationship and in trust with Z. We talked about simple things--such as food likes and dislikes--as well as big things, like hopes and dreams. Thousands of words passed back and forth between us, across the ocean, through Facebook Messenger and from phone-to-phone via international texting. Yes, that time apart was the foundation building of our relationship and our love. 

December 22nd was our target date and we prodded to it, day by day. As is always true, the hours sloughed off minute by minute, at their usual and steady rate. December 22 came, as did Zorig to me. 

Then we switched from a 4.5 month clock, to a 50-day-together clock. What a gift to have so much time together. With our foundation strong and sturdy, we had time to build the walls and rooms of our relationship. This time we had facial expressions and body language to flesh out the experience. Additional avenues to know and learn about one another. Our time together was easy and natural. We transitioned, with no real hiccups, from an online, virtual relationship to an every-day-living-togetherness. It was lovely and for me it felt like a homecoming. I knew the rooms of this house intuitively and moved easily from room to room. Our personalities, our character, and our temperaments had created an open floor plan and despite our differences in race and culture, we moved easily and freely with and around one another in this house of our making. 

But time continued on her steady march. Day by day our time together slipped away. Though we filled the days with family and friends and the state of Colorado, February 10th arrived right on schedule. I drove Z to the airport and sent him back to Ulaanbaatar. I cried all the way home. Though our plan was in place and we knew what came next, I was sad to have him apart from me. To physically not be near to him. 

Our second 4.5 month clock began its ticking down. This one felt both easier (because we were sure of the love, the relationship, our future), and harder (we knew what we were missing out on by being so far apart). And now, here we are. In 561 hours I will depart from DIA for Ulaanbaatar. I will spend over 30 hours traveling...and in approximately 595 hours I will again be back in Zorig's arms. I will embrace Enji for the first time. And I will again be with my father in the Chinggis Khaan International Airport--as he will arrive the night before I do--the place we departed from not yet one year ago and a place that neither of us every expected to return to. 

Time will no longer be an interloper for Zorig and I--we will be together for now and always from that moment. Though we will spend time apart, it will not be the long stints that this year brought to us. However, there will be other interactions with Time. She is an ever present force in our lives. Yes, from July 2nd I will begin the countdown of when my father leaves from Mongolia and I begin the counting-down to when I will see my family again. Yes, time is always here with us--an invisible third party, a silent partner, to everything we do. 

The In Between Space

Picture taken on my early morning walk

I'm out of the apartment and into my friend's home. This is the In Between Space. I'm not in UB, but no longer in a place that is mine. I feel strangely as if I am on retreat. So much of the work I've been busy doing (getting paperwork, checking off medical checks and vaccinations, shipping stuff, winnowing down my belongings), is DONE. I can go to bed when I am tired, and rise when I awake. This morning I was out and walking in the cool, clean air at 5:30 am--simply because it felt right.  I eat when I am hungry and work on my conference tasks when I need and want to. I am at my leisure this month, in most ways. It is a month of last times and certain goodbyes. With no family in Colorado, I don't know if or when I may return. Therefore, I relish the now moments I'm creating with friends this month. I capture them in my journal and my memory to reflect on down the road. 

In other good news, all 12 of my boxes that were shipped by container have arrived safe and sound into Ulaanbaatar. Here they sit in our apartment--ready and waiting for me to arrive, unpack, and put them away (I love moving into a new place). Z got into the two boxes which included items from his visit over the holidays, but otherwise he leaves them sealed and waiting for me. :)

While I didn't necessarily doubt that they would arrive to UB, I did question whether one or two might end up damaged or destroyed. Eight of them were rubbermaid containers, but the other four were cardboard boxes and not as sturdy. And they are heavy! But as you can see, nothing is crushed or noticeably damaged. A couple of them do have framed photos and ceramic mugs (the wolf coffee mugs which my sister Fawn gave me when I moved into my first apartment in Boise, ID).....I don't yet know if my packing job sustained them. But I will soon find out. 

Twelve boxes by container shipment which took 7 weeks to get to UB from Denver, Colorado. Three boxes shipped by air. Plus the three or four suitcases I will take with me when I depart. That is the sum of things which are my physical belongings in life now. Compared to many, my load is light and it feels good to be so free from stuff. And yet, I am rich and heavy in love and adventure and opportunity and inspiration. The horizon beckons to me and in less than four weeks I will meet her in Asia. 

And there I will say "hello" to Zorig in the airport where I said "goodbye" not yet one year ago. These are extraordinary times.....for sure. 

Cages of our own Making

Yesterday, as I drove off of the Fountain Valley School campus after dropping off my second load of belongings (which is all my life consists of at the moment), I observed a meadowlark sitting on the fence wire next to two wire sculptures of birds (made this year by freshmen students). I have always had an affinity for birds. As the meadowlark took flight, I reflected on my decision to get divorced. My first marriage lasted hardly a year; my second was 14 years long. In both cases, upon the moment when I knew what I must do to pursue my path in life, I felt as though I were a bird escaping from her cage. My heart felt a bursting forth. Despite the paperwork to be filled out and the money that would need to be spent, the choice--that moment of sure decision--liberated my spirit. 

Zorig with Pushkin

This is not an uncommon metaphor in life. Maya Angelou wrote the acclaimed memoir, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. We have pop culture references like the movie, The Birdcage. 

My previous husbands were not tyrants nor abusive in any way. Quite the contrary, they were good, hardworking men and kind people. But they were NOT men that inspired me or connected with my soul. Neither of them forced me to stay or limited my activities in life. I had plenty of "freedom" to come and go and do as I wanted. And yet, when I came to the resolution that I needed to leave, to be divorced, to be free.....I felt liberated. Liberated from a cage of my own making. 

While I KNOW there are men and women who feel trapped--literally--in their relationships, because of abuse, lack of finances, or other such circumstances, this was never my situation. Rather I allowed myself to become caged ..... in my spirit, mind, and soul. I allowed myself to be less than I was. I squelched my self expression. 

Relationships begin simple enough. You want to know everything about the other person. You talk late into the night. Physical attraction is strong, and lust can overpower. Months or years down the road you can realize that you quit opening up to your partner. That you hold back or share your internal thoughts, worries, ideas with trusted girlfriends instead of your mate. Perhaps your partner stops inquiring about your thoughts and needs, and you quit offering them up--thinking the other doesn't care to know. It goes both ways. 

Essentially it boils down to trust. Trust that your partner will always be on your side, will stand beside you, will protect you. This does not mean they will always agree with your point of view or your choices, but they DO believe in you and love you and want your happiness above their own. You are one another's Number 1 person...so to speak. 

In Zorig and I's early communications, he referenced pictures of dad and I on our trip in Mongolia, pointing out that I was alive and energetic, but also a little sad in the eyes. He could see in me things that I had been ignoring or denying. Over the years I had become resigned to my state in life. While I was rich in friends and work, my primary relationship lacked depth, understanding, any sort of soulful connection. And so, he was right--I was sad (but unaware for so long). I had allowed myself to become caged, trapped. There is no one to blame but myself.

While I have talked about how the love between Z and I is different than what I've known before, I haven't talked about how it liberates me. I feel free in this relationship. Free to be fully myself. There are differences between he and I, more so than some relationships because of our cultural and racial differences. Perhaps this is something that motivates us to understand one another more clearly--we can't assume as much as others. He wears a Mongolian lens through which to view the world; I wear an American lens. These are different filters, views, ways of understanding. We won't always initially understand why one another does or says something. But we can ask and learn and expand our understanding and world view. This is what we can provide for one another. We both believe strongly in growth and development and being active in pursuing ones life and dreams. 



We talk intentionally about never caging the other, never pushing the other down or back. But rather to accept and love one another fully and completely. He must go and hunt and be on the land. I won't always accompany him. But I would never hold him back from doing what he loves. As I encourage him in those pursuits, I can only gain from the results. We have to love one another and trust fully that we keep one another first in our hearts and souls. Thus far, that has come easily and naturally, despite the 9 months we've spent apart and alone on our individual continents. Because we have faith that the relationship we have built, and are yet building, is important. It must be tended to in each interaction, each thought. Love should feel freeing, liberating.....an opening up and not a closing down. 

And so, I will publish this last May blog post--the last one I will make from my apartment at 1584 Gatehouse Circle S, #104--and end with a question: Do you feel free to be yourself in your relationships with others? If not, who could you be or become if you were?