I had lunch with my ex-girlfriend, Radha
, today. We hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other in over 2 years. I called her to have this lunch because I could still feel within something linger
ing on, lingering since our break-up more than 3 years ago. My first awareness of this unresolved karma
came from my dreams, where I and Radha
would appear together and I would try to mend any tension between us. (e.g. see Dream Log: November 19, 2000
- Dream Log: March 3, 2001
- Dream Log: April 19, 2001
) So in actuality, these dreams served as sort of a template
for my decision to meet with her. I intended to confront the issue in a straightforward, honest manner. Surprisingly, the meeting unfolded pretty much according to plan.
I picked her up at her house and we drove into downtown Santa Cruz. My attitude was borrowed from the dream template: calm, honest, confident, aware. As a measure of this attitude (according to my personal metaphysics) synchronicity flowed smoothly as I caught only green and yellow traffic lights and found a parking spot immediately during lunch hour congestion. We ate outside at a Sri Lankan restaurant and caught up with each other on our current lives, our mutual friends, our families. We spoke about the recent death of the mother of our friend, Emily. Radha is a very emotional person and her eyes became teary as we talked. We spoke about my interest in spirituality, a subject which Radha has particular contempt for, having grown up on a Hindu ashram in Northern California through a difficult childhood. We talked a lot about her upcoming trip to London where she'll live and work for about six months.
Eventually, I told her outright about my dreams and about a feeling of unresolved emotion. Just like in my dream, I expressed how much I truly cared for her when we were together, how much I loved her. I wanted her to know that our relationship was a wonderful gift: a crash course in gender psychology, love and relationships. Though the experience was at times painful and miserable because of the constant arguing, constant conflict and gallons of tears, it was the best lesson I could have possibly imagined. The tears returned to Radha's eyes as I spoke these words with a sincerity that actually surprised myself. Radha's response to all this was to affirm that she knew this was true and agreed with me totally--she didn't need to hear it from me, but she recognized my need to say it to her.
The conversation moved on from there and I asked about her mother in Santa Rosa. She said, "Did you come here with a list of topics that would make me cry?" She confessed that her relationship with her mom was not good because she didn't get along at all with her step-father. She said she tries to avoid Santa Rosa as much as possible. My heart went out to her as I leaned in closer from across the table--this had been an issue two years ago when we were still hanging out and it seemed to have gotten only worse.
We drove away from downtown and went back to my house for a little while. We smoked some pot and talked a lot more. I noticed how easily we had slipped back into being comfortable in each other's presence. We spoke openly about ourselves and I was at last able to appreciate Radha as a really beautiful person, whereas before my vision was tainted by the bad experiences of our shared past. I felt truly wonderful to have all that karma lift its weight from my mind.
Since we were both going up to UC Santa Cruz for work, we decided to ride the bus together. Just before getting on, I snapped two photos of her standing beneath a tree. Behind her was a sign with UCSC's motto carved into it: "Fiat Lux" ("Let there be light"). As we neared her stop, I planned to give her a big goodbye hug and apologize for making her cry. However, the logistics of the crowded bus prevented me from doing more than waving goodbye as she walked away. As the vehicle pulled away from the curb, I laughed out loud, realizing that I'd just made some new karma in that last moment: I still owe her a hug and an apology. Obviously, I am meant to see her again.