I have a crush. In order to protect (some of) my pride, I won’t describe the lucky man.
What I will divulge is that he’s refreshingly different from my usual type. I feel pleased that men like him exist. I feel hopeful.
I’ve spent the past few days thinking about my crush, imagining the fascinating conversations we’d have, and visualising the things we could do, share and enjoy together.
Every so often, I’d remember to be present. Minutes later, my mind would flick to a feel-good collage of images of the two of us attending gigs, climbing mountains and curling up together in front of a movie.
Yet again, I’d jerk myself back to the present moment. And so the cycle continued.
This evening, I learned that my oblivious crush has a girlfriend. I tried to hide my disappointment as I nodded and smiled/grimaced at the friend who relayed this devastating news.
I felt embarrassed for harbouring such ridiculous romantic notions. Then, I decided to open up to my friend.
As the words poured out, I found myself saying: “Sure I hardly know him. I just like the idea of him.”
I realised that my disappointment wasn’t so much about this man’s relationship status as it was about my hopes being annihilated. The discovery that my crush was unavailable confirmed, according to my negative thought process, that there’s no hope for me to ever experience a healthy, fulfilling relationship with a great guy.
I acknowledged my feelings then continued to have a wonderful evening while actually managing to stay present.
As I drive home tonight, through the silent beauty of the dark Curragh plains, I have another awareness around my disappointment. I’m trying to control what I think might be good for me. I’m attempting to make someone I’ve met only a handful of times fit into the perfect boyfriend shape.
I realise that I really don’t know what’s best for me. But when I let go and allow what’s meant for me to unfold, something even better than I could ever imagine will manifest.
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I’m over a week into my challenge to be present. I could tell you that I’m completely zen, that I’ve attained enlightenment, and that I’m connected with and full of love for the entire universe. But I won’t do that.
I’ll be honest. I’m not there just yet. I’m definitely not present all the time. I’m probably not even present half the time. However, the knock-on effect from simply setting this challenge is that it’s making me much more aware. And once you’re aware, you begin to wake up.
I’m looking at my thoughts and feelings with interest. Rather than scolding myself for not being perfect, I’m observing my reactions with curiosity and humour. And when I notice my mind fleeing from the present, I’m now able to catch the tail of my projections and coax myself back to centre.
I recognise that I always have a choice as to how I feel in any given moment. I can decide which thoughts to believe. I can question my assumptions. And I can release stagnant patterns so that life flows with ease, joy and abundance.
For most of my life, the extravaganza of my ego hypnotised me. But now that I’m sampling pure pockets of peace, this mindfulness jazz tastes like more.
Today, I sit in the September sun. For fear of doing nothing, I walk outside armed with phone, book, journal and iPod. But I get a sense that I’m doing this out of habit. I ignore the paraphernalia, put my feet up, tilt my face skyward, and appreciate the wine-stained autumn leaves and the heat on my toes. The crumpled clouds remind me of a morning strand, slick from a recent tide.
This evening though, I huff and puff over the stories my mind barrages me with. Again, it dawns on me that I’m doing this out of habit. I take a breath, drop into my core, and let it go.
In bed tonight, my mind visits many foreign and oft-explored destinations. At first, I indulge these memories, fantasies and nightmares. Then, I shift out of the nonsense and into the present. Only in presence do I realise that my body is clenched and I’m not lying in a comfortable position. I give myself permission to relax.
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If you want to become more present, remember that practice makes “perfect”. It may be helpful to figure out which places and techniques assist you with the process. Being in nature usually grounds me. So does concentrating on my breath.
And yes, it is easier to be present when faced with a special moment or a spectacular view. Being present comes effortlessly when you gaze at the enormous moon in a glittering sky. Or when you watch the holiday sun melt into the horizon. Or when you turn your attention to your other senses – sinking into a yoga pose after a long day; the sensation of a lover’s touch; the strangely comforting sound of the roaring rain and wailing wind at your window.
But what about all the other moments? How can you be present during the difficult, sad and angry episodes? Can you maintain your presence of mind, body and spirit throughout the mundane and the chaotic? When you’re stuck in traffic or shuffling at the back of a massive queue? When you’re exhausted after a trialling time or choked up with dread over an imminent event?
Don’t worry if your desire to be present doesn’t manifest immediately or if it vanishes at the first sign of struggle. Simply be aware of how you are. The key is to treat yourself with compassion. Whenever I have trouble with mindfulness, I recall a friend’s suggestion:
“You must be gentle with yourself. Each time you attach to thought and abandon the present moment, bring yourself back with the lightest nudge. Like with the soft top of a paintbrush.”
With practice, presence will start to become automatic. Because it’s our natural state. We just got a little lost along the way. We got caught up in the adventure, we drank in too much drama, and our vision grew blurry.
But now that I’m sobering up, I can focus on the path home, and I finally understand that I don’t have to travel very far. I don’t have to go anywhere at all. I just have to be.
It is a beautiful day. My companion and I stroll through the woods, picking shamrocks and blackberries. We touch the thick trunks of towering trees, admire the hawthorn, and sniff purple lupine and yellow furze.
We stand for several minutes, gazing out at a stunning view of the Mourne mountains, the sun on the water, and the unexpected sight of a large round moon in the cornflower sky.
I break the silence and ask, “How present are you?”
He pauses then says: “There are a few ways I can be right now. I could be all about the other person – you. I could be totally present within myself. Or I could be present to myself and to another human being simultaneously. Thank you for reminding me of that.”
Later, we discuss the topic further. My friend recalls a Byron Katie quote:
“The end of suffering is to not project a future even one nanosecond away from now, whether you’re experiencing a terrorist attack or just doing the dishes.”
He adds: “We’re always thinking: ‘What’s next? What’s next?’ And when we’re doing that, what happens to this moment?”
“We’re not there for it,” I respond.
I realise that, even while speaking about presence, I’m catapulting myself out of the present by planning and daydreaming, hoping and worrying, fantasising and catastrophising. I’m stepping ten minutes into the future, leaping into next week and somersaulting over decades.
When I’m doing that, what happens to this moment?
I take a breath deep into my centre, look into his eyes and smile.
It’s after midnight so it is now the first of September. My self-determined challenges for this month are to stop biting my lip and fingers (something I’ve been doing since I was a child) and to be present (and whenever I discover that I’m not being present, I’ll gently bring myself back).
Tonight, I lie in bed, wide awake. I cry for my friend Michelle, who died suddenly. Since receiving the shocking and upsetting news, my emotions have become heightened.
I went for a long walk today and photographed the sun in the trees. I gazed delightedly at the yellow crescent moon perched low in the dusky sky. Music pulses through my body like blood.
I feel for Michelle and her parents. I remember the times we had together. I wonder how I’ll be at her funeral.
My mind flits from Michelle to a guy I’m interested in to an upcoming holiday to work and back to Michelle. I bite my lip.
I glance at the time. It’s twenty-five minutes past midnight. It’s September, I realise with a jolt and snatch my hand away from my mouth. I’m supposed to be present now.
I groan as I recognise that sometimes I actually enjoy being entertained by the drama of my mind. I quite like fantasising and reminiscing and anticipating. Mindfulness can be boring, right? Twenty-five minutes in and I’m already resisting the challenge.
The clock creeps past one am. I know that my mind is keeping me awake, like an enthusiastic relative back from their travels, telling me stories and bombarding me with pictures.
It’s late and I’m still wired. Not so entertaining now, is it? Maybe being present would be a good idea, I decide.
My breath deepens. I sink into my body and snuggle into the bed. My mind escapes again. And again. I patiently allow it to shuffle back. My shoulders drop. I stop holding on so tight. And I fall asleep.
Perhaps living in the past and potential future is just another bad habit like biting my lip and fingers. Apparently it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. Thirty days hath September. So let’s see if this month bestows me with boredom or liberation and peace…
Let me tell you about my new crush. I’ve known him for years but never thought of him that way. Until I saw him again on Sunday night. He’s such a nice guy. He’s cute and tall and wears cool clothes. He’s down-to-earth, funny and super-talented. He’s quite skilled on a unicycle and even manages to look good in an elephant suit….
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Okay, so he’s an incredibly famous rock star. But you know I encourage dreaming big. If he wasn’t married with kids, I’d totally go for it. Alas, I have principles.
* On a side note, can’t you just picture this song playing at a summer festival? The crowd sings along in unison to the chorus as the delectable Mr Martin pounds away on the piano… TURN IT UP LOUD! *
Featured Image: http://urbanext.illinois.edu/fruit/apples.cfm?section=tree
Once upon a time, Boyzone’s Ronan Keating was my ideal man. I loved his wonky teeth, his cheeky smile, his friendly, generous nature, and the way he said “God bless you” on repeat. And, oh, how he warbled! I recorded his every interview and music video off the telly and watched them over and over, sighing in frustration because I needed to be with him.
Cut to six years later when my crush waltzed in to the bakery where I was working. His posters no longer wallpapered my bedroom and I couldn’t even tell you where I’d stored those self-made videos. And he was married. And he had a child. And he was a lot shorter than I’d thought. And he’d had his teeth done. My crush had dissipated.
Still, for old times’ sake…
And then, not too long ago, these familiar feelings resurfaced. This time, for a guy in a class I was taking. He was cool and interesting and creative. His smile would light up a room, and his eyes twinkled with indescribable colours. He took my breath away. Literally. Like I was so winded I couldn’t even string a sentence together. I discussed him with friends, who enjoyed convincing me that he fancied me. I analysed his every move. My, he’s standing very close to me. He must want me. But though he had my number and my email and he knew where I worked and lived and socialised, he never asked me out. And when, one day, I heard that he was with someone else, I burst into tears. Irrational, I know. There was nothing between us. We’d never even had any one-on-one time together. Now, I look back and make fun of that tongue-tied, loved-up fool. I realise that this guy wasn’t all smiles and flirtations. He was just a person, with insecurities and imperfections. And maybe if I’d been real with him, and actually spoken to him as a human being, things would have been different.
It’s not called a “crush” without good reason. Thefreedictionary.com defines “crush” as: to press between opposing bodies so as to break or injure; to break, pound, or grind into small fragments or powder; to put down; to overwhelm or oppress severely; to crumple. Sound familiar?
A crush lights up your day. The tiniest sign that he might be interested in you fills you with hope and excitement- the slightest touch, the way he says your name or looks you in the eye. His dimples, his scent, and even his handwriting (girls are weird, I know!) make you classify him as the cutest male to have ever walked this earth. And then, one day, he crushes your crush by rejecting you or by not being all you thought he’d be. He doesn’t put his cups in the dish washer, he can be quite self-centred at times, he’s vainer than you are, his feet smell…
Here’s how to survive a crush (without getting crushed):
1) Snap back to reality
If you’re crushing on Zac Efron or Ryan Reynolds, that’s okay. Just don’t base all your future plans around becoming their blushing bride. It’s pretty normal for a teenager to swoon over images of soap stars in gossip magazines but if you’re still doing it when you’re in your thirties, you need to get out more. Find a hobby, hang out with friends, and spend some time around real live members of the general public. A fantasy won’t keep you warm in bed at night.
2) Test the waters
If you’d rather not spend your entire adult life mooning over a guy who may not even know you exist, why not cut the crap and tell him how you feel? Or you may feel safer engaging in the dipping-your-toes approach before plunging into that ice-cold lake. Mention that you’ll be down the local pub later and see if he shows up. Or give him a compliment. It’s not flirting unless he takes the bait and compliments you back. If he throws in a wink, you’re in there!
3) Learn to see the wood for the trees
You may think he’s staring at you when actually he’s fixating on the giant spider in the corner. You read somewhere that if he crosses his legs towards you or his eyes dilate as you converse, it means he’s into you. But first make sure he’s not eyeing up the hot blonde to your left. You wonder why he keeps showing up at your work place, but if you work in McDonald’s, have you ever considered that he doesn’t want to father your unborn child, and that he just wants an Egg McMuffin? You decide that he must like you because he’s on Facebook chat when you’re on Facebook chat. Has it ever occurred to you that the guy has other friends too? 213 of them! His world doesn’t revolve around you. Yet anyway.
4) Be yourself
If you’re acting all “school girl crush”, you’re probably just gonna annoy and/or freak the dude out. Unless, of course, you’re wearing the uniform. Guys really are suckers for things like that. On a more serious note, if you’re true to yourself and act accordingly, your crush may be attracted to such a genuine, down-to-earth gal. And if he’s not, then he’s simply not the man for you. And who said Princess Charming needed a man anyway?
5) Give your crush a break
Maybe you’re smothering him/her with your stares, your constant compliments on their new profile pictures, your texts that (not so) subtly hint at your single status, and the way you’re just always there. Take a step back and allow him/her to breathe. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe they’ll miss you when you rein in all that attention you’ve been lavishing upon them. I know a couple who have been happily married for almost 30 years. The man had been pursuing the woman for weeks but she was after another dashing young man. However, when the first guy stopped showing an interest in her, it made her think about things and she realised that the man she wanted to be with was her now husband. Bingo!
6) Be careful
If you’re daydreaming about your best friend’s girlfriend, your boss, your teacher, your student, or even your little brother’s wingman, you’re treading on thin ice. It’s not a crime to indulge in the fantasy once in a while but it’s when you act on it that things get complicated and people get hurt. If acting on a crush may lead to a loss of a job or a friendship or a marriage, or if it may even get someone into trouble with the law, then it’s not worth it. You may think you’re in love but, trust me, remove yourself from the situation for a while and, like any craving, it’ll soon diminish or will be replaced by something else. Crisis averted!
7) Be confident
Confidence is sexy. Believe in yourself, your good qualities, and your desirability. If you’re happy with your own company, others will be drawn to you, including your crush.
Dimitri is a stud and he knows it. Check out how confident he is and how he goes after what he wants. Granted, poor Olga probably got his number blocked and possibly toyed with the idea of a restraining order…
Being outdoors in nature, personal development, spirituality, teaching, yoga, friends & family, sunshine, good conversation, writing, a good cuppa, swimming in the sea, books, adventure, travel, learning, laughter, fun, good food, bear hugs…
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