Musings from the hammock, Doubleday Inn B&B, Gettysburg PA

I'm lying in a hammock strung between two old growth shade trees on a green hillside overlooking Gettysburg College in Eastern Pennsylvania. It is sunny and warm, high seventies, with the blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds drifting by the B&B where I'm staying. There are irises in bloom on the hillside below me, bleeding heart along the path behind me, and birds singing all around me.

A little while ago I sat on the hardwood pews of the College Chapel, sunlight streaming through the stainglass windows, and watched my daughter receive an award for the research she has done while studying Biochemistry and Molecular Biology. Apparently her investigations into the effects of nanoparticles on cell membranes was considered the most promising and useful research done at the college during her tenure. Tomorrow she will graduate with honors, and like her sister, make me even more proud by embarking on post-graduate studies, her in medicine, her sister in law.

This morning, before the ceremony, I rode my triathlon bike away from Gettysburg, through the Battlefield Monuments and out into the Pennsylvania countryside. I rode past farms, over rolling roads, and then into orchards of apple and pear trees. I made my way through the village of Ardentsville and then climbed steadily through a narrow valley that had a large creek flowing through it, the trees arching over the road. I was in cool shade, but could see the early morning sun hitting the tops of the trees on one side of the valley, the light bouncing through the leaves, soft and dappled by the time it reached me on the road. I rode past an ancient but still working saw mill, the smell of cut wood in the air, glacial stones occasionally causing the road to wind this way or that to make the ride more varied.

Eventually I reached the summit of a high plateau, the grasses already several feet high. Past a vineyard, over rougher surfaces I pedaled until I reached a high point where the road I was on led me to another that turned back towards Gettysburg. Down I raced, reaching speeds around 50 mph, back to flatter territory where my spinning feet powered me along, toward my daughter, her boyfriend, her sister, my ex-wife, and her family.

It has been a very nice day and I have remembered, for the most part, to stay in the moment and savor it. Lying in the shade, swaying with the afternoon breeze, a chocolate chip cookie in my belly, warm tea by my side, a good book to wile away the time, I feel content and at peace. I do wish I was with a lover, that romance awaited me tonight over a candle lit dinner, and up the stairs to the cozy room at the Inn.
I know that will come. For whatever reason now is a time for me to be free, to recover, to excel at my sport. I will enjoy this time while also looking forward to my next relationship, to the woman I will kiss, caress, please, laugh with, snuggle to, and love.

But for now I feel a nap calling to me in my hammock and I am going to succumb.

Sleeping with the door open

I have been thinking a lot about fear of commitment and what its effects are on those of us contemplating meeting people and possibly beginning new relationships.

This morning I came downstairs at 5 AM to get ready to go to the pool for my swim workout. My front door opens into a small entryway and then there’s an interior door that leads into my downstairs. On nice afternoons and evenings I often leave the front door open to let more natural light in through the storm door. Apparently yesterday I did this and I must have closed the interior door before going to bed. I normally lock up at night and you can imagine my surprise to find that my home had been “unprotected” while I slept.

One of the reasons I like living in Vermont is that it’s relatively safe. Bad things can happen anywhere, but in much of Vermont it is still possible to leave your car unlocked, to sleep with the windows open in summer, and, apparently, to leave your front door open all night.

I would like my next relationship to be similar to living in Vermont, safe and comfortable, where the norm is warmth, and openness, and honesty. I don’t want to have to be guarded with the one I love and I don’t want her to be that way with me. I think for two people to actively and deeply love each other, it has to be safe to leave the door to your heart unlocked, with each person sharing in the responsibility of letting that openness illuminate their thoughts, desires, dreams and feelings. When we give into fear, when we deadbolt ourselves behind layers of protection, we may be safe, but we are also isolated. 

I’ve been alone too much of my adult life, safe but not deeply and emotionally connected. Having two daughters helped me to be more open with my feelings. As a divorced person it can be hard to face our fear of commitment, our fear of getting hurt another time. I don’t have any amazing advice except to say that three years ago I took the risk again. I fell in love and let myself open up in ways I never had before. That relationship didn’t go the way I hoped and it hurt a lot when it ended. But having let myself be receptive to love, I now find that I am less afraid of loving again and I am excited about what lies ahead for me.

I guess I am learning to be comfortable sleeping with an open door and that thought makes me happy and optimisitc about my future relationships.