My Beautiful HippyGirl Egregor

If you don't know what an egregor is, read this first en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egregore



Several years ago, when I had just split up with my wife, I once sat talking to a friend, sort of half-jokingly and half-seriously I said

"Who would cope living with me anyway? No normal person. An art school student - maybe, if according to the stereotype, they are maybe as mental as me." We laughed and carried on defining my ideal partner. Hm-m… Naturally smart and intelligent, self-reliant, strong and ambitious. Obviously young and beautiful, blond hair down to her ass (naturally of perfect shape). Maybe natural curls.

The interesting thing here is that I more or less described a girl we both knew. Upon which my friend proceeded to let her know that Taz has got a crash, which was not really the case, and if I had I would not act on it; the girl was a great friend and completely 100% gay. But I deviate.

Here though I am talking about my idea of a perfect partner I created in absence of a real one. It started as a great idea, something to smile about. Somehow it made me feel a little better; it gave me a little optimism in a bad situation after a split-up. It gave me a little hope that one day my life was going to be just the way I imagined. Yes, it sounds ridiculously stupid; it is as far removed from reality as the East is from the West. I knew that and it made me smile at myself. So, even knowing all this I kept this little funny idea and now and again fed it with detail, with a spark of life, with a drawing maybe. I fed my idea of a perfect beautiful hippy girl.

I could carry on now, my imagination rarely fails me, I could feed the egregor and make it grow, become larger, so large, so important in my life that I would have to start serving it – doing the same thinking (for this is how you feed an egregor), until I felt compelled to do it regularly. Every next person I'd meet would have to be compared with the egregor (sort of like showing a new girlfriend to the parents) and if found unsatisfying, the real person would be rejected. It could be explained like "she is not my type", or truthfully "she does not satisfy the idea I am chasing". And eventually, in exchange for a little nice feeling, for a smile in hard times, the egregor could take over my life. Is egregor conscious? – I am giving it my consciousness.

It all started with talks and thoughts about love – the most beautiful real feeling from real world. It could turn into obsession easily, like an addictive drug with tolerance build-up, you want more and more. If I allowed the egregor could become so big, there would not be room left in my life for a possibility of a real relationship.

I have never met a real person who would fit into this crazy idea and never will – it is idea out of my head. It has nothing to do with love. When you are in love you know you are in love regardless of ideas. I just wish to be able to acknowledge love at the right time, my view not covered by a well-fed body of the egregor.

A few days ago I split up with my girlfriend. We have been very good friends for twelve years, even though living in different countries we kept writing to each other well before the availability of Internet and email. I loved her and she said she did. And then one day she said she didn't, that she had met a real love, and "I will never come to England again, Taz."

When you love you do what's best for the loved one. Being able to let go is a part of it. Now is the time to let go. I am also letting go my idea of a beautiful hippy girl together with the idea that one must be with a partner and while without must do something to find one. I don't know the future but I feel calm. No hopes, no expectations. But I do believe in love.