Stirred, Not Shaken

When I was younger, my involvement with the opposite sex was the mental and emotional equivalent of putting my brain and heart in a blender and hitting puree, with the occasional pulse for good measure. I lost all perspective and reason; my common sense and sense of self were among the first victims.

Not this time.

This time around, I’m stirred, not shaken.

The euphoria of attraction, of mutual attraction is alive and well, with all of the intensity I’m so famous for. I would eat, sleep and breathe this man if I could, make no mistake.

The difference is that underneath that wild excitement, there is a sense of safety, of security.

Instead of abandoning my logic and the essence of who I am, I carry it with me into this new part of my life. I feel safer and more grounded than I have since I was a little girl. Before the world taught me how cold and mean it can be.

There is no psychedelic flash of heat and light. There is no warping of the senses, no feeling of falling down the rabbit hole.

No, this heat and light is different. Slower. More even. This isn’t the last week of August, when you’re sweltering and your skin takes that pinkish tone after five minutes in the sun without a good coating of SPF 45.

This is the strong but gentle warmth of April, when the earth starts to thaw and you can smell the leaves of the previous autumn finally breaking down, enriching the soil. The kind of light and heat that sets all of nature to buzzing with energy, bubbling and slowly building steam, till the flora and fauna absorb so much of it that they explode with lime green growth and start about their spring business- nest building, gorging themselves to make up for the scarcity of winter feed, and perpetuating their respective species.

The ephemeral wildflowers are laying in wait, just beneath the surface, waiting only for the last retreat of winter’s cold before they spring to life in all their glory, giving a brief and stunning show with their delicate, intricate beauty. Before the summer’s canopy of tree leaves unfurl to shroud them in darkness and the larger, showier flowers take over.

That’s where my heart is- in those first few days of spring, when you’re almost sure the weather has turned, but you can’t rule out a few more chilly breezes. Still, you sense the inevitable approach of the next cycle.

I’ve always loved that time of year- the anticipation of warmer days and nights; the reassurance of the unending cycle of nature, the reaffirmation of life after months of dormancy. To experience it within my own heart and soul is an incredible thing, perhaps the most incredible thing I’ve ever known.

The blender is still in the cupboard. This, this whatever-this-is, has me feeling calmer, more sure of myself. When I think about the possibilities, and what they will mean for my future, I am carefully, tentatively optimistic. We will see, and that is more than good enough right now. Because we will see where this goes, and we will decide what it means, and we know what it takes to make it work. At least we think we do.

I can’t wait to find out.

I never did believe in miracles,
But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try.
I never did believe in the ways of magic,
But I’m beginning to wonder why.

Don’t, don’t break the spell,
It would be different and you know it will.
You, you make loving fun,
And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one.

-Fleetwood Mac “You Make Loving Fun”

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