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On Monday night, I had a lovely evening of dinner at Blondie followed by Unimelb "Jazz and Improvisation Small Ensemble Series" concert in the company of Justine and Simon, who have just returned from an awesome motorcycle-camping trip around Victoria, South Australia, and New South Wales, and Kayo. Despite my usual displeasure of jazz, this was more of the relaxed, lounge-jazz variety which is "mostly harmless", and provided the opportunity the youngsters to show off their skills both with shared and in-group solo performances. All in all, I really quite enjoyed the local night out. But it is an act of insanity not to attend such things when living in the art's precinct of the city.
"But wait, did you say Kayo?" Yes, the one and the very same. Close friends will know the deep and tumultuous relationship that I had with said woman with its on-again, off-again status that spanned a few years, driving me to the peak of happiness and to a pit of despair. About a fortnight ago, I suddenly received an email from her after radio silence for twenty months looking for some support and advice on a household matter that was important enough that I just had to respond. Given our history, of course I am cautious, surprised, but also glad to share in an old (spanning two decades) friendship again. Also, I have much better boundaries these days. Finishing a psychology degree helps, of course, but I think the lived experience and reflection of challenging relationships can result in a person coming out more aware of themselves is more important.
As I expressed in a conversation a few days back, unless there is a very good reason (e.g., violence, an egregious breach of trust), I find it difficult to understand why one would cut all ties with a former partner. Surely, if you loved someone once and that characteristic is still present, you have reason to continue that love even if you have both moved on in different directions. Whilst I am not in contact with all my former partners (it is not that many, honest), I am happy to know that the overwhelming majority I can still reach out to and one, at least, my dearest Erica, counts among my closest and most loyal friends, whom I know I can always trust.
If I may give an example and reminisce, decades ago, when we were both first-year university students, I had a short relationship with a woman named Michelle. Young, politically radical, dirt poor, and full of energy, I have to say we formed quite a powerful team, and I will never lose memories of those wild and beautiful days. But we went our separate ways and she ended up moving cities. However, due to the power of the Internet we made contact again in 2016 and now can see how each of us has grown and matured. But as so much of life is deeply unpredictable, I must express that deep combination of solidarity, sadness, and optimism when such an old friend is responding with the grief of losing their partner. Michelle's beautiful words and memories have recently been published. I urge you all to spend a few minutes reading them and reminding yourself how little time we have with each other.
"But wait, did you say Kayo?" Yes, the one and the very same. Close friends will know the deep and tumultuous relationship that I had with said woman with its on-again, off-again status that spanned a few years, driving me to the peak of happiness and to a pit of despair. About a fortnight ago, I suddenly received an email from her after radio silence for twenty months looking for some support and advice on a household matter that was important enough that I just had to respond. Given our history, of course I am cautious, surprised, but also glad to share in an old (spanning two decades) friendship again. Also, I have much better boundaries these days. Finishing a psychology degree helps, of course, but I think the lived experience and reflection of challenging relationships can result in a person coming out more aware of themselves is more important.
As I expressed in a conversation a few days back, unless there is a very good reason (e.g., violence, an egregious breach of trust), I find it difficult to understand why one would cut all ties with a former partner. Surely, if you loved someone once and that characteristic is still present, you have reason to continue that love even if you have both moved on in different directions. Whilst I am not in contact with all my former partners (it is not that many, honest), I am happy to know that the overwhelming majority I can still reach out to and one, at least, my dearest Erica, counts among my closest and most loyal friends, whom I know I can always trust.
If I may give an example and reminisce, decades ago, when we were both first-year university students, I had a short relationship with a woman named Michelle. Young, politically radical, dirt poor, and full of energy, I have to say we formed quite a powerful team, and I will never lose memories of those wild and beautiful days. But we went our separate ways and she ended up moving cities. However, due to the power of the Internet we made contact again in 2016 and now can see how each of us has grown and matured. But as so much of life is deeply unpredictable, I must express that deep combination of solidarity, sadness, and optimism when such an old friend is responding with the grief of losing their partner. Michelle's beautiful words and memories have recently been published. I urge you all to spend a few minutes reading them and reminding yourself how little time we have with each other.
