November 16th I posted Sacred Masculine and described a series of events that led me getting back in touch with the first girl I ever dated. Well, a lot has happened since then. So much so, awhile back I asked permission to use her first name in the blog. She wondered why. I said I wanted my readers (we small band of brothers) to know her as something other than "the first girl I ever dated." She acquiesced.
To say this woman has brought a vitality, an exuberance back in my life would be an understatement. I have been "over the moon." Acting the complete and utter fool. But like Parsifal, the Innocent Fool, there must be an intrinsic charm to "foolishness" in its natural state. I simply can't fathom any other reason why she didn't dismiss me as a lunatic.
There is another side to being a fool, though. This side perceives new events with old eyes, and tries to construct the present within a framework of the past. This fool isn't innocent by any standard; only tired, trite, and altogether predictable. His tapes (unconscious, unresolved issues) play endlessly in his head. He is difficult to get along with because he is so certain. He "knows." He's been down this road before.
Last night the woman I am talking about took on my not-so-appealing aspects of the fool. The narcissistic, low self-esteem, oh so assured fool who engages in self-sabotage. And she walked him back from the ledge. She was enormously generous, understanding, and empathetic. She was wise, adroit, and patient. There was a nobility and grace with which she handled MY issues that left me stunned and humbled. And feeling very, very foolish.
Her name is Pamela. And she really is quite remarkable.