Fall leaves and solitude

My husband and me are very different people. For one, he can stay cooped up in his basement apartment all weekend, regardless of whether its sunny and totally frolic-worthy outside, or that gloomy beautousness of the sky before it rains. I cannot do this.

Yesterday was what I consider the last official weekend of fall in my year. The next few weekends will see visitors, and trips to the city to show these visitors the lights. But for now, on this here free weekend, the trees were beginning to lose their leaves and the roads were active with flurries of yellow and orange colored winds. The weather, though cold for a day in fall, was still beautiful, and I desperately wanted to go to the botanical gardens before the trees let go of their last 50 leaves. N finally agreed to come with me, on the condition that we take his car and not drudge along on the subway. He had a lot of things to come back and attend to he said. So we set off. 3 traffic lights and a few turns later, we realized that the New York City marathon was on today and roads everywhere were blocked.
"Ask for directions!", I suggested, anxious that this was costing him more time.
He shook his head in assent and then proceeded to not. Three turns around the same block and N started to sigh and huff. I felt the tears start to prick at my eyes. He always does this... promises he'll do something with me and follows through, but makes me feel like the whole thing is a big favor.
"Just let me go.", I choked, letting water seep down my face. "Drop me off at the train stop. I'll go myself. Its better than having you look all worried."
N made feeble protestations that we'd be okay on time as long as we didn't go out to brunch too. But my day was ruined, and everything seemed dark. I'd rather not have him go with me under all these conditions, and told him so. "I've made peace with it. Just drop me here."I said, half hoping that he would suddenly want to come with me out of his own volition.
"OK, baby, see you home.." he said apprehensively, as I shut the car door, and drove off.

I needed coffee and a cry. I walked into the coffee shop round the corner that I liked. Turned out, I needed a bagel too. And as I crunched into the toasted whole wheat with cream cheese, I felt much better. I even felt happy that I had not forced N to come with me, or try consciously to guilt him. This trip would have been miserable if I had to wonder what N was feeling throughout. As my eyes wandered around the place as they would normally have not, had I been prepared for solitude with a book , they rested on a door that I had never seen, which opened on to a back yard. I walked my coffee out into the empty space, which was presumably abandoned due to the recent rains. The benches and tables were damp, and muddy wet leaves stuck everywhere. This would have bothered me on another day, but after my tear-shed in the car, I was groggy and pensive, and a damp, cool, empty backyard with closely hanging branches and dropping leaves seemed perfect. I occupied a bench that was slightly less damp than the rest, and rested my neck on the back rest. Crisscrossing branches fought to obscure the sky above, but being empty, they only half did the job.

As I stared and stared and let my mind wander, the fog in my head started to clear, and the cool fall breeze lifted my spirits so high that I was positively ecstatic that I was having this experience alone. Infact, there is no other way that such an experience can be had. I have been listening to Wayne Dyer a lot, and he talks of silence and nature and how being in that state connects you to the purest part of yourself and to the universe. As I looked into the branches, I was being shown a practical understanding of what he meant. Everything was O.K. Everything was as it was supposed to be. I was here for a reason and that reason was to just be, because I hadn't been in quite a while. How could I..when I surround myself with constant activities and insist on having company to look at plants? My husband and me are different, but I was being told that allowing each of us to do our own calling is what will make us happy as individuals. Sharing that happiness comes in later I think.

I did not make it to the botanical gardens. I was having too much happiness, peace, and love in this unexpected backyard. I walked back home, and even though as a habit, I didn't speak to N for a while (I'm not sure why– I was delighted with the way the day had turned out.), but recalling Dr. Dyer's words, I chose to step over ego and talk to him. I want to make a change. I truly do, and this is how I will start.