“I just feel like a big, fat liar,” I told her. I used silly words on purpose. They disguised the lump in my throat.
My friend beheld me lovingly. We sat on the grass with no blanket beneath us. Her high wooden fence provided an imaginary privacy. Our voices carried and so any nosy neighbour could hear us. “What is it you lied about?” she asked.
I leaned back and stretched my legs out in front of me, my body turned slightly away from her. I didn’t like feeling like this: guilty. “I told everyone he was my soulmate. I thought that he was. Even after we decided to part ways, I thought that was it for me.”
“It’s a seductive term, isn’t it? Soulmate. It sounds so final, so romantic, so special.” My friend picked a blade of grass and took a deep breath. “You will have countless people cross your path in this lifetime. Some your soul will recognize, others will seem completely unknown to you, but really, honey, it’s all an illusion. There is no separation between us at all.”
“You mean like some of them I may have met in past lives?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the sunbeams and turning to face her.
“Yes, if reincarnation is a helpful concept to you, you can think of it that way. Each person in your life has one shared purpose: to help you remember who you really are. That’s it. It’s not sexy, but it’s true. Your job is simply to release your relationship with them…to be willing to see its higher purpose.”
I considered her words and swallowed the now-smaller lump in my throat. “So it’s as if I trivialize my former relationship by applying such labels?”
“Well, the label doesn’t matter so much, but how you feel about it does. It’s upsetting you. Let it go.” She smiled, as she does, with kindness…without judgment. “We all want romantic love to be special, but the truth is romance has nothing to do with Love. Soulmate or not, your best bet is to be truthful and kind in any relationship.”
I lowered my head. My mind was still on my marriage. “It’s as if I made a big, huge deal about something that I have now proven didn’t matter as much as I thought. I feel guilty for not suffering as much as I once did. I am ashamed of how quickly I have moved on, and yet I wouldn’t change it.”
“It mattered more when you were in the thick of it. You’ve healed some of your wounds.” I didn’t miss her emphasis on the word ‘some’. She shifted her legs and tucked them beneath her. “It’s disorienting. Your life looks so different than you thought it would, and yet there is a part of you that recognizes its divine perfection.”
“Yes,” I uttered with a mixture of sadness and relief. She understood and that was comforting, but she saw through me, which was disconcerting. I was vulnerable.
“Honesty keeps the ego in its place,” she said softly. “You’ve got this. You’re facing the rough stuff. And when you’re ready, you’ll surrender all.”
I sighed and looked skyward. A cloud obscured the sun just then. “If you say so.”
My heart hurt. It was heavy. I heard her words, but I wasn’t there yet. I would be willing to see this all differently, but not just yet. Spirit would have to wait.
“Those who are certain of the outcome can afford to wait, and wait without anxiety.” ~A Course in Miracles