Invitation: Where Delight Takes Flight
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Contrast.
In a deep meditation, I ask for a glimpse of the future and what it can be, should I choose to invite it in. What I see is a world where my delight Â takes flight, a sense of lifting up and loving deeply. I see ways of being that Iâ€™m not used to, and finding a man who likes sitting on the floor with me isâ€¦different.
We are in a house where I live with this man. I donâ€™t really see his face, but Iâ€™m very aware of his presence. Itâ€™s as if I catch glimpses of himâ€”his hand, his shoulder, the corner of his smile, a fleeting emotion. Itâ€™s not as though I see him with human eyes but rather like with little zaps of energy all around each other. Itâ€™s most like those oldfashioned flashcubes going off in the dark and whatever I see at the moment of the flash is whatâ€™s there and nothing beyond. Except that these arenâ€™t flashes in the darkness but in the light.
The need for love is strong in both of usâ€”I can feel it in him and in me as wellâ€”and a little reassurance goes a long way.
This is our space, and we share it, and thereâ€™s a feel of it being new Â or much newer, as if itâ€™s just been built or just renovated to reflect the two of us.
Thereâ€™s a feel of lightness and light here. A sense of open fields somewhere farther outside of here, and green oaks with roots that connect deeply into Mother Earth.
This place is a mix of civilization nearby and the serenity of home and love, protected, nurtured within these walls and in the gardens outside. This place feels so upliftingâ€¦or maybe itâ€™s just the two of us together.
One of us has just come home from work or from a meeting. Â Iâ€™m not sure which one of us, but thereâ€™s definitely a feeling of coming home for one of us and the excitement that the other has just come home.
Thereâ€™s delight in seeing each other.
He hands me a drinkâ€”heâ€™s made it just for meâ€”and it tastes of raspberries. Â Iâ€™m not sure if itâ€™s alcoholic or a smoothie, Â but I think itâ€™s alcoholic becauseÂ of the fancy little glass itâ€™s in that looks like a triangle. Whatever it is, itâ€™s not something Â I have Â been known Â to drink in the past. This is new in my life.
I notice his hand, too, and the glass in his hand. He wears a bright gold band on his ring finger, and the light catches it and it glints, and Iâ€™m surprised. Â There may be Celtic symbols on itâ€”Iâ€™m not sureâ€”but itâ€™s the shine of it that startles me.
Heâ€™s married, Â to Â me Â I Â suppose, Â though Â Iâ€™ve Â often joked that my next wedding ring will be tattooed on.
But this is gold and itâ€™s bright gold.
We sit on the floor in what must be the living room because there are sofas and chairs, but rather than sit on them, Â we Â lean Â against Â them Â as Â we Â sprawl Â out Â loosely draped over each other. We drink our cocktails and speak of all the new things weâ€™ve seen and thought and done today and share our dreams and then, somehow, there are long lingering kissesâ€¦.
There is sometime later when I am at my computer and he is at his, each of us working separately but every so often, we look up, catch the otherâ€™s gaze, and smile.
There are times, too, when we are watching TV, me perched on a Â comfortable chair or sofa with my laptop and him with stacks of papers scattered on the floor, him in jeans, a T-shirt Â thatâ€™sÂ taut over his biceps, Â and bare feet. Weâ€™re busy but content, half-watching TV, occasionally Â working, and happy just being in each otherâ€™s presence, nothing else required.
And there are times when he loses interest in TV, his work is done, and he sits at my feet and rubs them.
He wears a black collarâ€”vinyl perhapsâ€¦he Â doesnâ€™t
seem to like leather so muchâ€”with a silver ring in it that does not at all match the band on his hand but heâ€™s smiling all the same and doesnâ€™t really seem to care that much for othersâ€™ thoughts on fashion.
And there is some time after when I am again sitting on the floor and weâ€™re semi-watching a movie on TV, his head in my lap,Â his cheek Â against my outer thigh Â as I stretch out my legs, cross my bare feet, and play with his hair until he falls asleep under my touch.
He smiles in his sleep and I brush my fingertip across his lips.
He responds in a whisper.
â€œInvite me in.â€
I open my eyes and blink.
All I can think is, Wow, you are so invited!