The Greatest Honor

My living room from the entryway

I've been learning to honor myself. 

• To honor my strengths;
• To honor my weaknesses;
• To honor where I am.

As I recover from a broken relationship, I have to give myself time to heal. 

However long that takes. 

I sat at my dining table early this morning. The sun was barely rising. I cradled a warm cup of French Roast coffee in my hands. Some contemporary jazz was softly playing on the radio, the ticking of the nearby clock reminding me of my grandparents' house, always a pleasant place for me. Morning sun filtered in through the entryway windows, casting sunbeams on the floor of the living room, temporarily lighting it up.

I glanced around my living room. The combination of the cranberry, mauve and espresso colored walls always fill me with a sense of calm. The photos on the wall take me back to where I took them; Catalina Island and Sitka, Alaska-pleasant times. The many plants give the room a quiet sense of life and energy.

I turned my gaze outside to my garden, still cast in morning shadow. The silver gazing ball peeks above the lavender. A gnome sits reading under the Cape Honeysuckle. Buddha peers out from behind a slightly overgrown lantana. Sparrows chirp from the ficus while finches respond from the neighbors' guava tree. 

I wanted to sit like this forever. I felt complete. I was whole unto myself. I was at peace. 

 

I needed nothing more.

Or no one else, either.

My garden, when it was new

Three times in recent months during different trips running errands, some very attractive men caught my eye. All were my type: dark hair, neatly trimmed beards, muscular, with a seemingly nice aura about them. One was at a Starbucks, presumably studying as we were near Occidental College, and was so engrossed in his laptop, he never looked up. The other two I noticed while on separate shopping trips. In both cases, I needed to get past them as they were standing still in the aisle looking for something on the shelf in front of them. Glancing at them, I politely excused myself as I went by. Both smiled and nodded at me, not in the lingering gay way, but as an acknowledgment of my asking to get by because they quickly returned to their search. I found one of the men sexier than the others but there was no indication he, or any of them was gay. Yet, I found myself wondering if they were gay, would I be interested?

 

And I sat with the question for a moment or two.

Well, maybe for coffee, but not much more. I just could not envision it.

I tried to picture another man drinking coffee at the table with me while in my idyll this morning. 

I could not. It just did not feel right.

I honor myself by recognizing where I am on my path right now: I am not in a place to bring anyone into my life. 

By simply honoring that that is where I am, I am giving myself the greatest honor that I can: the trifecta of self-respect, self-care, and self-love.