A single gal can choose from five metaphorical landscapes: the forest, the ocean, the desert, the mountains or the meadow. She might live a while hiding among the forest’s shadows, nursing heartache and secretly enjoying victim status. She might go for a swim in the ocean, swallowing salt water and slamming against rocks while she gallivants with inappropriate suitors. When she cannot take anymore waves, she retires to the desert where she walks among the sand dunes and bakes in the sun, enjoying her mirages. Eventually thirst will drive her from the desert and into the mountains where the occasional stream trickles between sharp rocks as she climbs upwards into another difficult relationship.
But when a single gal chooses to sit in a meadow — notice I use the word “sit,” not “pace back and forth frantically pulling at her hair and wondering why nobody has come to collect her” — when she chooses to sit peacefully in a grassy meadow she transforms into a luminous queen…and queens (as long as they aren’t of the evil Disney variety) can have anything and anyone they want.
I didn’t realize I was sitting in a meadow until an ex-boyfriend pointed it out. I’d experienced quite a bit of loss this past year: my love, my bird, my bunny. He shared his excitement with me. “It’s the end of an era, Amy,” he said. “You’re standing in an open meadow. There is so much space, so much room…a helicopter is going to land and deliver something wonderful.”
This sentiment was repeated when I received an aura reading from two healers at a spiritual center in the South Bay. I asked, “What do I need to know about my relationship space…the relationship that is to come…or not?” Their eyes were closed, and two shit-eating grins spread over their radiant faces.
“You are so open…just wide open. No baggage, no boogiemen to clear…you’re ready…” one said.
“You are sitting in a meadow,” the other confirmed. “Flowers, stars, crystals…so many beautiful symbols of love are popping up all around you.”
While I didn’t need the confirmation, I did appreciate it. So often, people treat baggage as a given. Everyone has baggage…everyone has issues…people say. I disagree, we all have personalities, but some of us have actually released our baggage and cleared our issues. That doesn’t mean we won’t collect new ones — meadows always have a few weeds — but as A.A. Milne reminds us, “weeds are flowers too, once we get to know them.”
When a girl walks lonely through life, shadowed by ex-boyfriends she has not yet released, baggage from childhood, boogiemen from her past, she will never reach the meadow. So when I realized that I was done with the shadows, the waves, the thirst, and the uphill climbs, the hope that washed over me was expansive…and beautifully empty. The meadow is something I get to create. Will I fill it with daffodils or daisies?