The Power to Act

At 27 I asked my mother if she thought I would ever meet the man of my dreams and marry.  Her sage response:  When you meet the right person, you won’t be asking me, you will be telling me.    The area of love and marriage has always been a “mind field” for me.  For others it might be strategizing for the next great career move, or planning to have their first child.  In the arena of meaningful relationships, I was hopeless.

The first time that I knew something with certainty was when I met my first husband.  I was 29 years old when I met Gene. I was opening the first secretarial school to teach Iranians how to provide secretarial support services for both Iranian and American personnel at the air base in Tehran, Iran. Gene was the general counsel and contract manager for Locked Martin, and was responsible for overseeing our contract.  It was love at first sight; at least for me.  Our eyes locked and I knew without a doubt that I was going to marry that man. Within a few months I told my mother that I had met the man.  Her response: “Okay, I’m sooooo happy for you.”  Before you write me off as a hopeless romantic, let me assure you I am anything but that.

I am the “model” of a rational woman.  I live in the land of ideas and thoughts; and it is not always a pretty community to live in.  Living in my head could be best described as being a participant of an ongoing tennis match.  The dreamer might serve, but the doubter might return the volley.  I never knew who was on the court; all responses seemed possible.   Making important decisions about my life has been difficult at best.  When I finally understood that I “met the enemy, and the enemy was my thinking,” there was great freedom.  And, as God would have it, another way of knowing emerged.

Gene was the perfect man for me for the eight years we were together. I loved him mightily.  Gene died of brain cancer at the age of 49 leaving me devastated beyond words.  But I wouldn’t change a day of our life together.  In retrospect I realized that I was attracted to Gene’s worldliness and personal power; two characteristics that I had yet to understand were mine.

My second experience of “knowing” came after breaking up with the man who would later be my second husband, Bruce.  I broke up with him because he was getting too close, and I was immersed in my historical “stinking thinking.” Previously I promised Bruce that I would bring him to an Enneagram class.   A few weeks after the breakup, (we were friends) I fulfilled that promise.  As saw him across a room, I knew instantly that he was the right man for me.

With Gene it was a tremendous lusty energy that was determined and focused. I was a person on a mission—Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead! With Bruce there was a sense of deep peace and happiness that radiated out into the universe and connected us.  It was different than my ‘love at first sight’ experience, but I trusted that knowing totally. How can I describe it?  It was something that arose from within.  There was a solidness about it that left me resolute.  There was no question, no debate – it just was.

In my forties I found that my body had its own way of knowing.  When others said certain things, I’d feel a chill, followed by spine tingling goose bumps.  As a coach I ascribed the feeling as evidence that what the other said was true for them.  I realized that I had a built in “truth detector” that, on its own volition, manifested through my nervous system.   It took a long time before I realized that the messages that my body was giving me were not for others, but for me!   Truth existed outside of my rational mind.  My body is a source of information that can override the insanity that sometimes exists in my thinking.

Knowing never comes totally from the outer world.  When people speak their truths, I know I must bring it back, not to the rational mind, but to the body itself.  Unless my body’s reaction brings me peace or lightness of being, I know not to trust it. Knowing is something that comes from within and so can be nurtured by creating quiet times to reflect, meditate or journal.  The more I come back to myself, the more I can know what I know!

Today I’ve taken on a practice of asking questions like “What will make me happy in this situation? What do I want to do? Where do you want to go?” Not that they are earth shacking questions, like “Do I love him?”  To develop the muscle of “Knowing What I Know” I have to remember that I am still a beginner, flex the muscle of curiosity and then listen to my body; in that moment the “Knower Knows.”

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