Everything is blooming; the trees, the flowers, the green grass, but not my love. No, I’m without love right now. A dry spell they call it. It’s been a while. I try to keep busy and just not think about it. I’ve picked up new hobbies to help consume my time as well. I’ve ran a lot, hit the gym quite frequently, and I’ve started painting canvases. I’ve grown to love painting on rainy days. Its a peaceful thing to do with the window open with a glass of sweet wine by my side. I don't plan what Im going to paint, no, I just let the natural artistic juices flow as if I am some famous painter or something. Oh my paintings don't look as pretty as theirs, they kind of look artistic, lop sided sort-of, but very loved. The kind of love only the artist mother could love. But it’s creative and it keeps my mind off of Mr. Lonely. He doesn’t do the painting thing very well. When I pick up the paint brush, he runs away. Coward.
I so got to get a life, I spoke under my breath as if it mattered that anyone was around to hear me. Life with the surprise kissing visits with and without Radley, life on the dating websites, and the life of creative outlets was so not the life I was wanting to live. I missed my snuggle time. I needed to snuggle. I needed a romp on my couch under a fuzzy blanket with a hot man that I couldn’t get enough of. Why was this so hard for me to find?
My frustration turned to want, turned to longing, turned to anger. I cranked up the music really loud in my apartment, hung a white canvas sheet on my wall with a few nails, then prepared my paint. Before I knew it, I was painting with my fingers…no longer a brush. Yup, I had been converted to child like finger painting, now elbow painting, and toe painting too. I had it everywhere; my clothes; my hair; my floor; my walls. At some point it hit the ceiling, not sure when that was though. I was dancing and singing right along with all the body painting. My clothes were removed one after another as I experimented with different body parts. You can imagine, I used my girls, my lips, my ass, my fingertips, swirling and twirling all the pretty colors together, expressing every inch to the bone of passion my poor soul possessed, while dancing with the colors.
My iPod was belting Janis Joplin, Tina Turner, and an occasional Cher song. When the mellow sounds of Barry reached across the threshold of my apartment, I moved rather slow and sexy, then when the songs were replaced by Adele, I was back to sassy! My iPod knew me well. It threw a little of Ella and Babs in the mix, then spit a few Evanesence tunes just to crank up my solemn, depressing mood. My master piece was complete after the ever so loving Ave Maria was sang at the top of my lungs. It was an evening I will never forget. An evening that I’m not sure I could ever re-do. An evening of painting that released my frustration and my sensual desires. Desires that were hidden and to be discarded from myself.
I sat in my dim lighted living room with the sounds coming in from the streets, indian style, on the rags I had lain across my pristine floor. I sat there covered head to toe in every color of paint you can imagine. I sat there naked, not ashamed, and starring. Starring at the creation on the wall before me. My iPod was silent. My body and my mind was very still. The breeze blowing through my curtained window was tantalizing. I was humbled. I began to try and read the painting as if it had words. What was it saying to me? What was it that it needed me to know? It was so massive and bold, strikingly beautiful. But in the same sense, it was calm and quiet, radiating peace.
Then it hit me. Hit me like a wave of emotion drowning my soul. It was the Peace. I realized I unknowingly created this masterpiece from my soul to show me that my Peace was still there, and very much alive. I had been struggling with my life, the whole dating scene I had been cast into, with Radley showing up at my door, my desire to still need him in my life, then with Sofie’s demise. It was trying to tell me, a mist of all my madness, my Peace had not left me after all. That I needed to not worry about my love life, that it would one day come. I would find the man one day that would complete me. I needed to not worry about Radley showing up or what that meant, it more than likely didn’t mean anything, nor worry about Sofie. She would find her Peace again too. This I so understood now starring at the massive print before me. It was crystal clear.
I closed my eyes and placed my hands palms up on my knees. I straightened out my posture and sat up straight. I took a deep breath in and let it all out. I took another deep breath in this time feeling it deep within my belly and let it out with a roar. I repeated this over and over again. Then I remembered an old Buddha prayer I had picked up on one of my trips to Hawaii. It was the Prayer of Compassion called the OM MANI PADME HUM. It means this:
OM: Helps you achieve perfection in the practice of generosity. Chanting OM helps us maintain mental and emotional calmness to overcome obstacles in our lives. (My obstacle once again was Radley. I shouldn’t allow him to be an obstacle in my life.)
MANI: Helps you to perfect the practice of pure ethics, tolerance and patience. (I really needed patience right now.) It symbolizes compassion and love. With all intentions to achieve enlightenment.
PADME: Chanting this helps you to achieve perfection in the practice of perseverance and concentration. (Something I’ve been without. My mind had been muddled with thought and worry in the passing days) Padme means lotus, symbolizing wisdom. A lotus grows in the mud but is not stained by it. Thus it shows the quality by which we live in the world but are not affected by its impurities.
HUM: Helps you to achieve perfection by wisdom. (I’ve never achieved perfection in anything, but I do try.) It means inseparability and symbolizes purity. You achieve this by combining wisdom with method. (Thinking and doing)
So here I was, rescuing my heart from the sea of the suffering it knew all too well. Purifying my mind and body. Using the mantra for protection. Raveling in the spirit of calmness with my prayer of compassion. Here I was, before the Good Lord and the universe, in front of my beautiful painting, shining with my speckled colored nakedness, and all the glory the painting had possessed. I was open. I was free. But still, I knew I was very vulnerable.