The 1892 song Daisy Bell, has a verse in it that goes like this…

                            “Daisy, Daisy

                             give me your answer do,

                             I’m half crazy

                             all for the love of you”

When I was a young 7-, 8- and 9-year-old kid, we used to sing this ditty as we rode on the school bus to and from elementary school.  We would insert the names of our friends into the song, laughing and blushing as we speculated about who liked whom at this young age.

At a much older age, several years ago, I met a woman named Daisy at a dream tending workshop.  Within a five-day period, we became very close.  We connected.  But then something happened, and we drew apart.  In frustration, and in agony, I penned the following Ode to Daisy that I sent to her.

 

                       Ode to Daisy

 

I fell in love with this beautiful Daisy three weekends ago.

It was her gentleness, her caring, her eyes and her smile.

She was beautiful to behold, but even more she was amazing inside, in the soul.

That was the Daisy that I fell in love with.

 

We connected.  We looked into each other’s eyes.  We just connected.

It was special.  We communicated so well.  We talked and talked and talked.

We both had a zest for life and an unbounded curiosity.

Yet, we were still exploring.  As evidenced by being at a dream tending workshop.

 

As we got to know each other we learned that we both had hurts in the past.  Hurts that still lingered.

Whether it be a mother or a father, whether it be the fear of abandonment, it was there and in each of us.

We also learned that we had challenges that were very similar.  Sons who have ADHD.

We shared the stresses that come with parenting kids with ADHD.

We both realized that we are going through the process of empty nesting, as our kids make their way into the wide, wide world.

And we realized that we were both unsettled in where we were going to live in the next few months. 

 

In addition, we realized that we had a lot in common in our work.  We were both in the coaching business, both entrepreneurs.

But we also realized that we were a little unsettled.   In our businesses, we weren’t sure how and where the next client, customer, student, dollar was coming from.

Yet we both knew that we were doing important work.   We both had answered long ago what our passion was, and we were focused on the larger purpose we were fulfilling. 

 

And it was also pretty evident that both of us were resilient and had tons of energy and perseverance.

And we connected physically.  We fit.   And we really wanted to be next to each other.  We wanted to hold hands and we wanted to cuddle.  And we loved lying in bed together.

 

But most importantly, thanks to being at the dream tending workshop, we had the opportunity to tend to each other’s dreams. Which was a fairly deep process.  A process that allowed us to get really close to each other on a deep level, the subconscious level.

We tended to each other at a very deep level.   We did it in a caring and loving way.  This allowed us, even though we had just met, to get very close very quickly.   And to get close at a very deep level.

 

Everything that I just outlined happened in the first five days that we knew each other.

 

 

And then something happened… 

 

 

Not sure what it was, but it has managed to change the wonderful idyllic connection between the Daisy and her Sunshine (that being me) into something that is not so special.

 

At first, we decided we did not want to take the next steps in our relationship slowly.   No, we wanted to move quickly.  

We also shared so much that it may have been overwhelming.  And scary. 

So, this immediate infatuation and deep connection all of a sudden begins to be questioned.  Questions that come from fear.   Fear based upon deep issues — mainly the fear of abandonment.

The basic question being raised was “can i trust him”, and “can i trust her.”

Will this be like other relationships that i have had?  Will this lead to a real lifelong commitment that is joyous and stimulating and loving?

The answer that kept coming back to a person who has fears like this is “I don’t know.”    I better take it slow because i am not sure how this is going to work out. 

And then this sets off a chain reaction with the other person, who feels this hesitancy and confusion.  This in turns triggers all the abandonment fears of the other person.  Both parties therefore reinforce each other’s abandonment fears.

This in turn leads to more questions.  More practical questions.  Like what about the age difference between us?  What about the fact that Neil lives in Seattle and i am in Los Angeles?  What about all of these activities that Neil has that are not settled, like his houseboat rental, his foundation needing money and others.  

 

All of this is churning in her head and heart when she is going through some difficult issues and has some real stresses in her life.   Not knowing where she is going to sleep each night.  Not having a place to call home.   Trying to get her business expanded to a new level, so that she is earning enough money to be comfortable.  Still worried about her relationship with her mother and not sure how to handle that going forward.  Still, the ever-present Mom, and constantly worrying about issues relating to her son.  Worried about how does she change her work life so that she has more contact with people, which she loves and thrives on.  Does this mean going back to work for an organization, or does she continue to be a sole practitioner.   Worried about what her next step is in her own development.  Should she go after a PhD in depth psychology now or not.

Plenty of issues that are unsettled and unsettling.  Many to worry about.  Several to cause stress.

 

On top of all that here comes this man into her life, who at first, seemed wonderful.  Almost as if it was meant to be.  Destiny was doing something.

 

But then, upon reflection, it seemed to be too much too soon.  It was overwhelming. 

Caution signs were being raised.  Whoa, Nellie, she says to herself.   Slow down.  I am not sure what this is, not sure what it means.  I am not sure that I want to go forward, she is saying again and again.

 

All of this reaction is understandable.

 

But what is really disappointing to me is the way that this has been carried out.

My hope would be that we could share each and every one of these fears, issues, concerns.  Identify them, talk about them, wrestle with them, work on them together.  And hopefully, maybe even resolve some of them.

 

But more importantly, i would hope that we could do that while we continue to love each other.  Yes, love.   Love in the sense of total caring about another person.  Wanting to make sure that the other is tended to.  Tended to in such a caring, loving, and kind way.

 

This means smiles, eyes that glisten as we look at each other.  This means a lot of touching.  Holding hands, touching elbows, shoulders, thighs.   This means cuddling.  This means really serious hugs.  Hugs that last for some time, because they are an admission that we are all human and that each of us has needs.   This means little kisses all the time, and big kisses some times.

This means also adding sweet words and thoughts to go with the physical gestures noted above.  Whispering in each other’s ear.   Little words that say a lot.

 

All of this going on while we know that we have not decided whether to proceed with the relationship.  Whether this is the long term commitment that we are looking for.

 

But we do the exploration and the searching in a loving, caring way.

 

Ohhhhh, Daisy.  I hope that you can hear and feel the pain in my words.  But also the yearning.  The hope.  The possibilities.  

 

Ohhhh, Daisy…

 

Regardless of how this plays out, I am so grateful that you entered my life — even if just for a short time.  I got the chance to hold a Daisy.  As I told you in the first words I ever uttered to you, everyone wants to hold a Daisy.  Thank you for letting me hold my Daisy.

 

Love, Neil

 

I wrote this and sent it to Daisy.  I never ever heard a word from her…