Hey, guys, I’m in …

… France.

We arrived last Tuesday to do some seasonal work of grape-picking in Champagne. As soon as I learned about the possibility of it this year, I knew this was something I wanted to pursue. I heard a lot of warnings about it being a really hard work and I didn’t want to be away from Svarun for two weeks, but if I listened closely, I could hear my soul clearly, telling me that this was the experience she wanted. This would be a unique opportunity to earn good money in a short while, to spend some more than 24 hours’ worth quality-time with my boyfriend alone; this is something we haven’t done in eighteen months of knowing each other. And it would be a good time to recalibrate myself within the relationships I have with the people I love the most: my son, my boyfriend, my parents, my friends and my sisters. The Universe agreed, so we took off on Monday night.

Thus far I can’t tell you what the work is like and – maybe even more important – what the payment amounts to, because we start the work tomorrow. But I can tell you about

Being in an intimate relationship that works for me is hardest thing ever. I am certain I have come here to learn how to make it work, while being me, and being happy and whole all the way through. They say that the ego is the price for true love and I have come to think that it might be true, because being here with my loved one is boiling my stubborn self onto the surface big time. My stubborn self tells me I’m the captain of my boat, and I am eternally grateful for being able to hear the echo of these words on the inside. She mostly acts as my cheerleader, who gives me the faith in myself that I need if I want to do things that matter. Sometimes, though, she will make me believe that I should always come up with my own solutions, even though others’ ideas may serve me better. You see, my stubborn self considers taking an advice to be a failure, because it’s not mine enough. My stubborn self is doing everything to protect me from getting hurt she’ll even say things like:

You’ve come this far to get a glimpse of who you are that I’m afraid you might forget what being you is all about if you follow the path of least resistance.”

Come to think about it, that does not serve, but imprisons me into thinking that I should always do it on my own. And “on my own” sometimes feels like a very lonely place. Basically, it is just like saying: “I’ve travelled 1200 kilometers to get a glimpse of what a vreiment croissant beurre (the real deal butter croissant) tastes like that I’m afraid I might forget the taste when I get home. So whenever I want a butter croissant, I should travel 1200 kilometers because purchasing it at a local French bakery doesn’t cut it.” What?!

Aren’t we here to learn to distinguish what works and what doesn’t? Aren’t we here to learn to recognize the path of least resistance and follow the signs onward?

Doing my own thing, even when I recognize is not working, is not the path of least resistance, while dissolving the attachment to “mine” is. While I still believe all of the answers are dug deep inside of us, I have come to accept that I’m not less of myself when I follow an advice. I’m not less of myself if I can admit I’m wrong, or I’m being mean, or I’m being insulting; I’m on the way to more. And expansion is what my soul loves to do.

The path of least resistance is the one we can follow only if we’re done believing what we’ve been told; that live is a struggle, that we ought to fight to do it right, that most of our energy should be used to make a living … not a life.

Life, anyone?

france

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