Rose Quartz on Satin Pillow

A Nebulous Number of Days of Atomity and Memory

Heart and Souls

Many years back, I went on the one and only date with someone I had encountered on an internet dating site. Meeting people this way really didn’t resonate with me because I have rarely dated in my lifetime. I always seemed to manifest someone (though, I didn’t realize for decades that that is what I was doing) who stayed in my life for a long time – dating simply wasn’t necessary. So, when I befriended a few female friends who were notorious serial daters, I questioned my intuition and thought perhaps I needed to be dating as well.

I knew two people who had become acquainted with their future spouses this way, but for the most part, relationships that my friends or acquaintances developed from an internet match were unsuccessful, heartbreaking and, in a few instances, disastrous both emotionally and financially – you know, the kind of stories about which Lifetime TV makes made-for-television movies.

Nevertheless, contrary to my instincts, when I once ran across a profile of someone who had done some writing, was my age, had some profound posts on his Facebook page, and who was athletic and attractive, I thought I’d take a chance. I did, however, flagrantly ignore a red flag – there were a substantial number of shirtless pictures of him. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt because a large majority of men, in my experience, have a very oblique understanding of what attracts a woman of substance to them. As a result, I ignored the signs that this person was likely a narcissist.

But then a second red flag popped up when, upon contacting this ‘match’, he was eager to go out for dinner (like the same day) and to get my phone number. Fortunately, I did the prudent thing and held out for coffee or tea the following week and I also developed an escape plan. We rendezvoused at a bustling café beside a documentary film theatre that I often frequent and I had a ticket to an event starting at the cinema an hour after our planned meeting time. Furthermore, the screening was sold out, so I knew if he pressed me to tag along, I could honestly say there were no tickets available.

The initial moments of the date were, as expected, awkward. But then this fellow proceeded to give me a full rundown of his relationships from the time he was a teenager to the present day. He confessed he had become a father at a young age with a woman he never married, he had an ex-wife and many other girlfriends who had cheated on him, and his second wife, who was about the same age as his daughter, had tragically died at a young age.

I was ready to press the escape button relatively soon after meeting, because as he over-shared, it became obvious he was an agist. Even worse though was the expectation that I provide a similar encapsulation of my life. I, however, had absolutely no interest in dredging up my romantic chronicles. I was in a place where some of my past wounds had only a thin protective layer on them. Nevertheless, being the people pleaser that I was, I succumbed and provided him with the summary he desired, but was left feeling raw.  

When we finally got through that nonsense, he made some random comments that I can only laugh at as I look back on this memory. In particular, he made three remarks that stood out: “I wanted to see what a woman my age looks like” (remember, he was MY age); “you look a lot better in person than the pictures I found of you on the Internet”; and finally, “I wanted to learn how you got published because I wrote some really amazing pieces about my wife’s death and I couldn’t get them published.” Yeah, my one and only online date.

Needless to say, I went off to my screening and never saw this pill again. We did have one more communication after the meetup and that was that. Well, except that I was incomprehensibly curious about the peacock and cyber observed him on a few occasions. He ended up getting married about six months later to a woman who appeared to be half my age and who had a teenage son.

My lesson from this episode was that I was not going to find a soul partner on the Internet and I’m relieved it took only one such experience for me to grasp the moral of the story. But in my spiritual journey, I have uncovered another vital insight about soul partners. I don’t believe we mortals have one singular soulmate and that looking for or staying with “the one” does not always serve us in the long run.

In this lifetime, I’ve had three long-term liaisons, coincidentally (but really not coincidentally, as I learn more about astrological cycles) each one lasing about ten years. But I am now aware that people weave in and out of our lives to progress our soul journey on Earth. If we stay with someone after we have learned the intended lessons, out of loyalty or fear of change, our energy flow and spiritual development stagnate if only one of you is evolving. In my particular case, I believe that two of my three partnerships were with souls I’ve encountered before. I also have extraordinary sister souls in my life who are not blood relations.

Admittedly, I stayed in relationships much longer than the expiry date. One gets attached to certain elements in these entanglements and sometimes these unions become co-dependent. But despite the difficulty and heartache resulting from breaking bonds, I no longer look back with regret, but am grateful for the experiences and transformative impact each relationship had on my life. And I hang on to a piece of heart-shaped rose quartz I purchased years ago for heart healing and comfort as required.