Someone recently told me that if we pay close attention we may notice that our lives seem to happen in cycles. In other words, we often have the same kinds of experiences, and ups and downs, at the same time every year.
It was my birthday. I’d spent all day at work, with the exception of a few brief moments opening a gift with my sister. It had been a complete non-event. But every year around my birthday, men appear out of the woodwork. I like to call it my “birthday mojo”. Once, a former student popped up on Facebook and asked me out. Another time, a long-lost fling I’d had in Asia reconnected to wish me happy birthday.
Last year, I was not at all happy about the age I was about to turn. Feeling old and alone, but remembering my birthday mojo, I reactivated tinder for a quick, curious, distracting swipe. Only a few minutes later my instincts selected just one guy (trust me, it usually takes a lot longer). He was in New Zealand on a working holiday. He’d originally come looking for IT work, but had somehow ended up working in a vineyard instead. Now he was working on a dairy farm. As an animal loving vegan, I was quietly amused by the potential irony of it all.
He was an adventurer, traveler, and musician. He was also passionate about martial arts, and keen to hear my music and chat with me about it.
I always try to keep my expectations low when meeting people on apps. But what can I say, I’ve fine-tuned it to an art form. I very rarely use them these days, yet can’t remember the last time I regretted a choice.
As I approached the concrete, real-world man himself, I had a totally new experience. I was completely taken aback by how handsome he was. I use the word handsome because we’re not talking cute and quirky here, I mean, this guy literally looked as if he’d just walked off the cover of this magazine. I suddenly became as insecure as a teenage girl, pretty unlike my grown-ass-woman self, to be frank. I read his micro-expressions as utter disappointment and disinterest. He gave me nothing. Not a single indicator that I might be remotely interesting to him.
I resorted to what I always resort to when I’m nervous. I started talking and making jokes. He started smiling. His smile was incredible. He was like a gorgeous, muscular, tanned, zen-monk, radiating peace and love every time I made a silly joke. It took a little while, but eventually I came to understand he was simply shy. Shy and introverted, probably totally unaware of how incredibly good-looking he was too.
With that, I took it upon myself to try to crack him open.
In my head I quickly designed an amazing adventure for us. We took a bus across the city then walked through a beautiful park to an excellent, free, night concert. The tropical trees were all lit up and it was almost uncomfortably romantic. Not a lot of words were exchanged, and I still had no clue what was happening in his head. He had a seemingly impenetrable forcefield up. He told me he’d been so isolated on the farm, hardly talking to people, and that the city felt so crowded now. He didn’t touch me at all. I wondered if it could be out of discomfort, or disinterest.
After the concert, as we walked along the street, I used my phone to introduce him to my favourite afrobeat music, then I sang a few words in spanish from my favourite latin band. I had somehow become an extrovert (I’m not one), apparently trying to entertain him into opening up. It probably wasn’t the best way to do so, in retrospect.
We decided we wanted to listen to more music, so we headed back to my place. We spent the first hour listening in silence. We lay on my very wide couch, head to toe, like a couple of kids at a sleepover. At the same time, his incredibly gentle and unassuming energy was permeating mine, and I felt completely at peace with him. He slowly started to open up and talk more, and I finally realised that he was actually enjoying his time with me too.
I didn’t expect to see him again after that evening. He was at the end of his visa and was most likely leaving the country very soon. However, in spite of this, we casually but consistently continued to exchange texts, and he kept me informed of his plans. He was polite and reliable and kind. He was also in a pure state of flow.
A week later, at a moments notice, he showed up at my door. He wanted to see me again before he left. And he was leaving for Auckland the next day. He still wasn’t sure what he was doing or where he was going, but most likely he was heading to Thailand. I joined him in his flow. His energy was easy to sit back and glide on. We had another lovely evening together. I was slowly learning more about him. And he was slowly learning that I don’t normally talk incessantly.
But mostly, I was learning of his inner beauty. And he too was connecting with mine. He was not flattering, not charismatic, nor charming. Not full of meaningless words. But full of sincere, reliable actions, and occasional, careful, honest words. He made me laugh, and smile, and he was easy in absolutely every way.
Had I been running on the treadmill of my mind I would not have allowed myself such an experience, nor possibly met him at all. I would have been filled with fears and doubts. But his state of presence, and perhaps my own acute intuition, lead me to instead trust my gut. I sensed that he was a positive force. I knew that he would not harm me. And these things my instincts had mysteriously told me even before we’d even met.
We agreed that the timing was unfortunate, and the goodbye sad, but nothing was to be done.
It was a long drive for him. He texted me along the way, and again when he arrived. The morning after that he let me know he’d sold his car and immediately bought a ticket to Thailand. He’d been accepted into a Muay Thai training camp.
It was a dream come true for him
When he got to Thailand we continued chatting and he told me how much he loved it there. He said that he wanted to stay forever. A month later, they offered him a job in exchange for more serious training. It was such an inspiration to watch the ease with which his dreams were flowing to him. This profoundly peaceful and sweet man, who was quietly smiling his way through life, was attracting to himself everything he’d ever wanted. We talked about it and he knew his inner peace was the root of his manifesting desires.
Within 8 months he made it to the big leagues. Fighting against professionals live on Thai television.
Though my instinct was to want to struggle against the realities, it would have been like trying to swim upstream in the mighty Mississippi. As much as I wished I could see him again, every part of me felt joy for him. I have had glimpses of my own dreams coming true because of my own state of flow, I know that nothing is more important in life than following our own calling, whatever that may be. This is true self-love, and it radiates out and touches everyone you meet. It is the salvation of humanity.
In fact, everything I had come to appreciate so much about him was connected to the fact that he was living his own life far away from me.
At first we continued to talk daily. And now, more than a year later, we remain regularly in touch. Always in the most effortless way. I encourage him and share in his triumphs, and he does the same for me. He has been there for me in hard moments, and I send him hugs and healing energy when he loses fights. I feel no jealousy over other women, no sense of possession. There are no expectations, even to talk at all. I never chase him, he never chases me. There is no need and no point. This, I believe, is what we call unconditional love.
The distance preventing our relationship from developing into something co-dependent and conditional, has allowed us both to breathe and continue growing and walking our own paths. He seems confident those paths will cross, or perhaps merge, again one day, and I suppose if they don’t, it is simply not meant to be. I’m in no rush, after all, what control do I really have? I trust in the universe and I’m focused on the present. Our instincts never fail us if we choose to listen to them and give the boot to our monkey minds.
So, as I meditate here, he meditates there; and somewhere, I’m quite certain, in a luminous, gratitude-filled place, our souls meet and play.
This post is my special thanks to the wonderful, supportive guy who has helped me to build and run this website, in addition to spending many hours of his precious time listening to my music and helping me to craft my songs. Muchas Gracias my friend!!
Miguel kindly let me use his photos in this post even though he’s very shy and humble about his successes. I believe his story and attitude is so inspiring that it has to be shared. If you’d like to follow his adventures you can find him on ye old gram @miaraya
Thoughts?