Something Fine

And you know, I’m looking back carefully
Cause I know, there’s still something there for me
Looking back into your eyes, I saw them really shine
And I’ve just had a taste of something fine
Something Fine, Jackson Browne
It’s strange how, just when I think I’ve plumbed everything my childhood and upbringing have to teach me, I’m in a place where I’m being led to looking back at it again, to find other lessons and insights that might be there, to inform how I’ve gotten to where I am, today, and that might help me to go to where I need to go, going forward. Especially in my relationship, since this is a couples’ workshop that we’re at this weekend.

Apparently, there are some powerful lessons there, that will help, here. I’m taking it on faith. I’m not afraid of anything I might find, as I stopped running from it a long time ago. It’s already helped me immensely to look at it, and to learn from it.
One insight that has already occurred to me is the very fact that one of the things I learned, as a kid, and have applied, in various forms and fashions ever since, was to run away from those things that I found impossible to deal with, or to resolve, there.
I was always wandering off, getting lost, roaming free, and finding other things that interested me, that took me out of the impossible situations at home. This worked, for freeing me from the conflict(s), at least temporarily. I developed a rich world of my own, one I was unafraid of, and felt like I could go anywhere in, and I did.

Meanwhile, I was not developing, within the family, the way that “normal” people might. I was part of it, but not of it. I was my own person. I was very independent. But, I also desperately wanted to be more a part of it. I wanted to be loved, but thought there was something seriously defective in me that could not be loved.
In looking back, I have learned that it wasn’t necessarily something wrong in me. The capacity was there — it’s just that the opportunity wasn’t. No one there knew how to love me. They all tried, in their own ways, but my need was so great, none of them could fill it in a way that I needed it to be filled. So, I rejected the idea of love. I went out looking for other things. And I found them — in abundance. But, I never found that love.

So, in my adult life, after looking for love in all the wrong places — love found me, right around the time that I stopped looking for it. I wisely didn’t run from it, hard as I tried to. I had successfully run from it every previous time it tried to find me. This time, I turned around and faced it. I looked into its eyes — the eyes of my future wife, Kathy, to be precise — and opened myself up to it.
It was great, until the first time adversity struck. Then, I did what I always did before — I ran. Like in my family, I did it in a way where I always came back, but I did it in a way that I remained invisible, in my running, and managed to do this successfully for 32 years. It’s what I perfected as a child, so it wasn’t hard to do.

But then, one day, my invisibility cloak stopped working. I could no longer hide my running. A big part of me didn’t want to keep going. It was time to face up to who I am, to be accountable, to be in this relationship, all the way in, or to be running, for the rest of my life. I knew I didn’t want the latter, so I committed to the former.
One of the scariest things I’ve ever done. I might be found out for who I really am!
And, here I am. I’m beginning to feel found. It’s not nearly as bad as I’d feared. In fact — it’s pretty nice. Pretty real. Feels like living. Feels like life. I think I’ll stick around for a while. I feel like there’s something fine coming.

