The Personal is Universal

These conversations get intimate and we weave in and out of the personal and address universal themes. We are trying to be authentic. We considered whether or not these conversations might be something that others could relate to.

Are these perhaps the conversations that we would have liked to have had with our intimate partners in the past, but they didn’t happen? They couldn’t happen.

Daniel: What does the picture look like so far after three sessions. The old paradigm and the new paradigm we’re trying to create. The old one of not talking, not coming to the table. The new one is us coming to the table and talking. I feel that this is what we’re doing here. A new paradigm for a partnership. Both have to be into their self-awareness, self-honesty so that they can talk.

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Our conversations were highly stimulating and there was never a lag time during the hour plus that we talked. These were serious topics, but sometimes, the humor would slip in. Once I was so sure about something that I wanted to say. Daniel’s focus was on me and I totally spaced it. I started laughing at myself. Daniel wanted to know what was so funny. He assumed it was about him or something that he said. I had to explain that I was laughing at myself. Humor is so important, isn’t it. Not taking oneself so seriously all of the time. I need to remember this.

Me: A person has to be sufficiently open and aware. We have to reach a certain stage of self-honesty. I agree with you that bringing it to the table and dialoguing is part of the new paradigm. It’s not so easy when a couple is deep into a relationship to have these conversations. Egos get in the way, old unconscious patterns get in the way, fear or anxiety. These conversations would be different if we were established in a relationship. It’s a different dynamic when a couple is living together.

Daniel: We separate at the end of the conversation…we have space. We process what was said after we part company. Have you found that sometimes you can talk more freely and openly to a stranger? It’s because we’re in the same frequency…that we’re able to share with a total stranger.

Me: Sometimes I share something intimate with a stranger and afterwards I’m shocked–how could I share that with a stranger!–as you said the frequency is there.

Daniel: We’re not total strangers. This is the most contact we’ve had. There’s been a buildup of trust and comfort. My relationship with you has always been one of a very even keel. I never attacked you. I never put you down. I’m a little erratic at times. Instinctively towards the very beginning, I felt comfortable, easy-going, support, you pulled out my good qualities. It’s the frequency thing…this is flowing as it is. Unlike, Fiona, (a friend of Daniel’s) it was hostile and aggressive until we got to know each other better.

Me: If it feels uncomfortable, it’s good to voice that too. There’s more that charges me around this and makes me feel this is really worthwhile. I honor what we’re doing here.

Daniel: You need to be around a male that is comfortable for you. Safe. As opposed to not. We don’t have stuff with each other.

Everything Daniel says doesn’t have to send me into a reactive place nor does he have to be triggered by whatever I say.

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In a long-term relationship, how does one initiate the conversations that are wanting to be held? When talking hasn’t been at the forefront of relating, where do you begin?

Wardrobes

Moving to the mountains of northern California twenty years ago, a re-wilding has occurred.  There has been subtle permission to become more of who I am.  One obvious change has been to my wardrobe.  When I first moved here, my closet was filled with the clothing I wore while working in downtown San Francisco.  It soon became obvious that these clothes were not practical for life in the mountains. I had a fondness for some of these tailored clothes–the neatly pleated fuschia skirt.  The black belt with the gold and silver cranes intertwined on the wide buckle.  The knee-high boots with a slight heel–a bit of cool esteem.  The black and white checked tailored suit paired with the raw silk blouse.  The fitted, stylish dresses in my favorite colors–turquoise, deep red, navy blue with polka dots, a few soft pastels–each one fit a mood of the day.  Some were concealing, others modestly revealing.

These clothes didn’t come out of the closet once I moved to Mount Shasta!  Each year, I shed more of them.   They were traded for practical and comfortable jeans and tee-shirts.  I searched for the best hiking boots or running shoes–comfort and hardiness are everything.  In the winter, it becomes about layering.  I ordered silk leggings and tops.  Long-sleeved cotton shirts, wool sweaters and vests.  Waterproof outerwear, down jackets.   I didn’t miss trading nylon stockings for the sturdy cotton, and wool sock blends.  I knitted myself a few hats that I could tug down over my ears, and scarves wrapped up under my chin.  Mittens, a variety as, like socks, there was often one missing.    Of course, come summer, all of this was shed for the comfort of light cotton and less is more as the temperature rises into the 90’s or 100’s.  A serviceable swimsuit for dunking in one of the many lakes.

I wonder, Do clothes make the woman?  Or, am I being tailored by my environment?

Living in the mountains brings out an inherent spirit of adventure that had been dormant.  Where does this trail lead?  And that one?  What hidden lake is waiting for me to discover it?  The falling in love with where I live.  The beauty that lures me.  The trail that winds and I wonder what’s around the next curve, up that hill, over that ridge…I must follow.

bear1.jpg

I encountered this bear on a river trail a few days ago.  We were a comfortable distance apart as he posed for a few photos.