An Invitation to Love

This post is dedicated to my partner Zai, and the love that endures between the two of us. May it deepen and expand through the years. 

Photo found on Pinterest

Last month, my partner went travelling. He attended a wedding in England and then spent some lazy weeks pottering around Europe. He explored neolithic villages, saw the full moon rise at Stone Henge, and cycled through the back streets of Barcelona. 

And children and I- we stayed at home.

It was an epic challenge for me, at least in my mind. It was up there with labour, which for me is one of the  ultimate challenges and rites of passage a woman can go through.

And I admit, it was the unravelling of me. Not when he was gone, but in the months leading up to the trip, knowing he was going, knowing he had made the choice to go, knowing that I would have to delve into new parts of myself to shift from the way we have mostly equally coparenting, at least from when our second child came into the world, to being absolutely, radically, self reliant, and accountable to these three precious beings. I cried, I screamed, I channeled my hurting bleeding heart.  I doubted our relationship. Mostly I doubted myself.

What did I need to do? Trust, surrender, love. That old mantra, gifted to me by my third son and his blazing arrival into our lives, the mantra that seems to apply to anything and everything in my life. It would be okay. There would be gifts.

The greatest gift, it was revealed, was the stripping away. My partner and I rescinded our roles to each other as co-parents and as housemates. Wow, how encompassing those roles had become, without us seeing it! How much of our interactions- and, to be truthful, our frustrations and dynamics with each other- were wrapped up in parenting our children together, and sharing domesticity.

Within hours of watching his plane fly off into the ether, I was struck down by two things: firstly, a deep sense of missing him, of his presence travelling further and further away, faster than the speed of sound. And secondly, from that great heart-spaced emptiness, what flowed in: the realisation that I LOVED him, so deeply, so strongly, so purely. When all else was taken away, what was left was love, and for some reason, I hadn't expected that.

Photo found on Pinterest

So the lesson, for me, in this experience that I fought against for so long:

Open up to the raw places, the places that make you feel abandoned, empty and alone: what do you find there?

Photo found on Pinterest

(It's a great lesson for love relationships, but I am thinking right now, it would be great for relationship with the self too).

And I invite you, dear reader, to this: How can you open up to the raw places today? How can you create a place where you let go of expectations, of relationship dynamics, of feelings of security? What happens when you do?

I actually want you to go and do this. What are you holding onto so tight, and what happens when you let go, for just a little while? What sparkling little lessons rush into that empty space? Share your story in the comments, if you feel to.

© Sammi Cambray/Sacred Whisper Bellingen 2014

Sammi is a holistic doula and birth counsellor, and the publisher of Sacred Whisper Bellingen

Ph: 0418 950 793