Make no mistake. There is a great romance going on here.
But, it’s not with the man of my dreams.
It’s with the sound of the train passing outside the window of my hotel room.
The clickety clack of metal on metal while it rushes toward some destination I’m unaware of
The mystery of that unknown destination intrigues me.
It has always intrigued me. Paths that have no end. I dream of them all the time.
The haunting nature of a destiny I may or may not reach is more than I can take sometimes.
Isn’t that what great romance is all about?
A dance between what is and what could be
A push and pull between certainty and seduction
The liminal space that sits squarely between pleasure and pain
Knowing and not knowing at the same time is deliciously sweet
My romance has never taken the form of a dedicated lover who whispers into my ear their devotion to me
My romance has been quieter, subtler
I’ve laid on a freshly made bed of all white linens all day
The sun shining into my hotel window made the whiteness glow and feel…holy
It’s a Monday and the hotel is silent
I breathe deep as my eyes trace the blue sky outside my window and I wonder
I wonder why I’ve been given the path that I’m on
I wonder why I’ve had to do it alone
I suspect I will always do it alone
I suspect this is something the universe wants me to embrace
After I’ve worn myself out from wondering I realize the only thing I ever really understand is the moment I’m in
As the legendary poet Antonio Machado said, “Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road– Only wakes upon the sea.”
I don’t truly know where my path is leading I only know I’m too intoxicated by the intrigue of that to not follow it
My footsteps are the road
The curvature of the arch of my feet like delicate bridges from the heaven that is me to the earth that calls to me
My toes wiggling in the Mediterranean
My brown eyes beholding the Bosphorous
Ahhhh. Make no mistake there is a great romance going on here
But, its sensuality hasn’t take the form of the man of my dreams
Its sensuality has been expressed in the moments of feeling the immense pleasure of a plane lifting off carrying me to foreign lands
The sweetness of it found in the melting morsels of alien gastronomy
Its savory flavor flirts with me in the spice bazaars as the scent of the herbs hint at the mouth watering delights to come
This is my romance
Being a perpetual stranger longing for place is a bittersweet torment all its own
Who am I? I am the epitome of romance. The conundrum of contrast. The settled wild woman.
This great romance has my soul sliding across entire continents as though they’re made of satin sheets
I feel deeply and that is romantic whether I feel with someone or alone
I have a romantic life even if it isn’t one that is shared or witnessed
It’s an unconventional romance but romantic nonetheless…
I find my exhilaration at the moment of lift off
Like a bird set free I stretch my wings until I’m exhausted and sore
My body spent from flying I snuggle against the warmth offered in unfamiliar settings once I land
I am in love with the earth and all the life forms that teem therein.
I am in love with the sound of hundreds of languages and accents
I weep in ecstatic, heart-pounding joy that makes the entirety of my body and being shake at the sight of humanity celebrating their festivals and feasts.
I am in love with humanity. I am in love with all the emotional and soulful intricacies that are you and your expression of life.
This is my great romance. You who are reading this post….it is you because humanity is…you.
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