proof in da pudding. synchronicity.

For those of you who have followed me through my journey, you may remember this post while I was in Chicago: Loving Life Up back in August 2009.  Within that post was this photo of a man riding his motorcycle down the highway in front of Shannon and I.  I had no idea who this man was, and after he passed us on the freeway I never saw him again.  He was this fleeting reminder of a man I shared an intense love with back in 1977.  One that has survived decades.  A peripheral glimpse in my sideview mirror.  A nudge to take a deeper look traveling at 70 mph.  A stranger who roared by and got my attention.  No coincidence. Messengers can ride Harleys, right?

 

stevematts is one of the loves of my life, a man I met in my 20's. He and I remain connected. We float together and apart through the cosmos tethered by some crazy strong golden cord.  A long, strong cord.  Throughout the years it has remained with irregularity but it has remained. August, 2009 was one of those times. In fact, at that time we were toying with the idea of living together when I returned to California. I really wanted that but it didn't work out.  I always end up pissing him off in some way.  Yep.  I have this way with him. Ha!

Still, I'm a lover-for-life kind of person. When someone takes residence, truly takes residence in the hallowed ground of my heart I know that they were meant to be there and I don't ever go away for good. As long as they want me around I try to figure out our purpose together in this life. I do my work.  It always twists and turns and changes, but it is constant within its inconsistency.   We have reconnected once again which makes me pretty happy. I  "grow up" more in between the times we aren't together.  But what is amazing is that we often seem to grow in the same direction.  There is always something to talk about of interest.  Something new.  Hours and hours go by like minutes.  There is an eternal spark between us that readily rekindles.  There is always unalterable love.  It is what it is: True.

The other night while we were chatting about a song playlist I had made for him, way-back-when, that popped into view on my iTunes (that I actually never got around to burning and sending), he made reference to The Rolling Stones' song Wild Horses. Just a fleeting reference asking me if it was on there, but enough to make me seek it out and listen. Yep.  It was there. I didn't ask him why he asked or what he meant or what it meant, because I don't ask him those things anymore. Partly because he doesn't seem to like it and partly because it's a redundant question and partly because the ball's in his court. As far as this song goes, I know what it means and so does he.

....the only part I don't know is the "graceless lady" part.  Harumpf....but anyway...

Long story with a point finally coming to fruition here. Sunday night I came across some old photos of those days back in the 70's when I was with this man. He's the one in the middle here. Check out the shirt.  I think you will see why this guy on the motorcycle:  Blew.  My.  Mind. All the way out in Chicago, 33 years later, all the way down to the long wavy dark hair, all the way down to wearing this shirt that I remember. (And it's even amazing that I remembered his shirt, right?)

 

   

 

By the way, in the top photo, I am the one on the far end.  The one without the beard.  But then, it was 35 years ago. And whatever.  He still thinks I'm pretty.

 

Comments

[Karen Maestas]

Great story and picture Marianne! I think it's wonderfully special when life presents opportunities for people to connect and reconnect. How lovely for you. Best wishes, Karen

[Annie Joy]

I love this story and photo, Marianne. Sometimes I reconnect through dreams, do you? I think it's my spirit crying out for something I've lost, something sad and bittersweet most often, but I can revisit it and then wake up to find that I'm happy to be here and now, too.