I have done mushrooms one time in my life. My partner and I decided to take a metric fuck ton and float down the river. We ate them as we pushed off and, lazily, we sipped on White Claws and enjoyed the summer day. Everything was normal, as it usually was, until a point: As we butted up to the shore, I went to push us off and found I was absolutely mesmerized by the texture of a tree. It was complex, the textures were awe striking. I stared at it for either two seconds or two days, who knows, but then turned back to my partner and exclaimed, “Are we on a fucking Disney ride? Was this made by Disney?!”
No, it was the White River. My body was probably actively fighting off a giardia infection as I floated down absolutely gobsmacked by the scenery around me. That’s the point, the White River is shit. But in that moment, exaggerated by psilocybin, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. With every bend of the river, I was dreamily pulled through another great expanse of scenery. Everything was gorgeous, meant for me and my partner to experience in all its glory.
The last time you found me, I was dealing with being in the throes of deep depression. I was struggling to find a way to deal with any of my large emotions from digging up the roots of my trauma responses and I was trying to balance and integrate them into my life. This continued but I have had a lot of seemingly small moments that have brought me closer to that idea of True Self.
I spent last Sunday at my ex-partner’s house. We had an emotional week with a lot of ups and downs and hard conversations. Neither of us wanted to continue having them, so for a day, we let it be. We spent a day on the couch, him napping on and off, myself reading a book on science’s role in spirituality. At the end of the night, when I had nearly finished my book, I looked up from the pages and right at him. He was where he had been all day, doing the same thing. But I saw him completely differently and then, as you may have noticed is a theme, myself.
I have always told myself that I couldn’t develop myself as a person with someone else in the mix. Maybe subconsciously, but it is absolutely something I believed. To fully thrive, I had to be alone. In fact, I thought it had been proven over and over. Looking at my partner’s sleeping face like it was the first time again, like it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, made it all come together. I was the one who put that limitation on myself, he had nothing to do with that.
I thought back to all the times I had pushed him off, his hand outreached to dance at a random moment as I’d roll my eyes. The times he would try to be lighthearted and I would scowl. “He doesn’t get it.” I’d think to myself. What didn’t he get? I had created my own misery by being stuck in my routines and a need for near constant control of our entire lives. While I felt he lacked discipline and stability, which he does, I also lacked an ability to see the need for the lack of it as well.
I often pull Temperance in our readings. I pull it so much that I barely think on it anymore. But it’s truly more than just finding balance. It’s about mixing two substances, carefully and diligently, until they become a new one. It’s about give and take.
I used to resent the things I first loved about my partner, the things I used to love about myself. I resented his ability to live in the moment, his lightheartedness and his carefree spirit. When I was drinking, I had these qualities too. He still has them sober but I felt like my mind was a flesh eating disease. My thoughts ate away at my personality until I was left an empty shell of myself. Sober, I was left only with resentment and self consciousness. I couldn’t temper the way I used to be with who I was now.
I could never let go enough to be happy in very many moments at all. I couldn’t do it alone either, but I blamed him. I feared the idea of letting go after having been out of control for so long. Control was how I kept my sobriety, it’s how I felt like I kept my sense of self. Instead, I kept myself locked in place. I couldn’t grow, thrive, or even laugh how I wanted to anymore. My strength had become my weakness.
In finding Temperance, I can embrace those things I love about my partner. I can wrap myself in them to find them again in myself. I can let go so we can dance in the kitchen again, make plans on a whim. We can live in the moment. With Temperance, his strengths are not his weakness. He can see the benefits of a plan, of having stability, of staying in once in a while. Together, we can combine to truly find the balance of life. We can find all the joys, the frivolous and the contained, as qualities to admire, not to be resentful of. When they are balanced, the cup doesn’t run over or run dry.
I do have the ability to thrive while I’m in a relationship. I can focus on myself. I absolutely can, I read the whole book, published a blog, and discussed heavy topics with him right there. I’m going on a whole trip without him. My interests are separate from him. I didn’t need him at all anymore. This used to be terrifying to me.
Now, the realization that peace is found where I least expected it, even resisted it, has moved me deeply. It dawned on me that I could let him go, I could set him free. Because being in a relationship where you truly love and respect each other is freeing. If it’s not, it’s not right. Holding him in a firm grip, clipping his wings, would never allow that freedom or that trust to grow. He would just be a broken bird, constantly fighting against my stranglehold. We had to choose to be here.
We had constantly perpetuated a cycle of treating each other badly. We wouldn’t treat the other how we wanted to be treated, leading the other to do the same. What could happen if I actually treated him with respect? If I treated myself the same? If I could show him daily that I do think he deserves to be loved? If I focused on myself first without sacrificing anything? What if I could look at him everyday and see him how I used to? These concepts can coexist. He still has all of the qualities I loved about him to begin with. So do I, if I search for them. We can, and have in the past, released the ones we had that broke us down.
And even if things don’t follow an idea I have in my mind, it will still be okay. I am a whole person either way. I will still have learned these lessons. I will still love and respect him for who he is. He doesn’t have to earn that. It can just be. Just like the love and respect I have for myself. I can show this to everyone, without romantic attachments tied to it at all. My old, negative, and hateful thought cycles don’t even feel as familiar anymore. Everyone has a reason, a process to their actions. We’re all trying.
A few days later, I was leaving for work. I had my headphones on and as the music swelled in my ears, I turned from my front walk to start down the street. Suddenly, I was struck by the beauty of it all. The sun filtering through the trees, the subtle changes in color as fall has started to make an appearance. The air was crisp in my lungs as I took a deep breath and made my way forward. In my shitty little neighborhood, on my shitty little street, everything was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
The complexity of life and the ways it teaches you is a glorious experience. Loving someone, loving others, and loving myself made every moment seem meaningful. Every view I have admired as the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen was also one I had seen as an absolute piece of shit. I’ve capsized on the White River when it’s ran high. I’ve looked at my partner and loathed everything about him. I’ve cursed this street as I walk to work in the dreary, cold winter. But sometimes, after a season or two, when you look again: they’re full of promise, full of wonder. I walked to work and continued to admire it. After all, it was a new day.
Tomorrow it may rain, but just maybe, this time we will have umbrellas.
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