This morning as I was driving to work, I was suddenly struck by a memory…and I laughed aloud for blocks.
My (main) college boyfriend was very into New Age spirituality…and, admittedly, so was I. But he was older, hipper, grungier and bearded. And his family more open-minded. For years (or maybe only months) at a time, I was sure he was the love of my life.
His mother knew astrology and read tarot. He was so far ahead of me on the spiritual front that I allowed him to lead me, to recommend reading, to open my mind:
- He introduced me to Seth, Shakti Gawain and Ram Dass.
- He told me about a woman somewhere who has learned to photosynthesize, like plants. Apparently, she drank a small amount of water and ate a Triscuit every so often.
- We meditated together, even when he’d moved on to graduate school.
- And, once, he told me that he aspired to such heights of spiritual enlightenment that he would engage in sex only as a means of procreation.
I treasure the memories, but you can understand why this all went awry…