Telling on Myself

I watched subtleties where I get my sexuality mingled with emotional pursuit. It isn’t clean, it doesn’t work. I so love it when it’s free and open for whatever form of sweet or powerful passion that shows up…but it’s authentic!

It’s so nice to be able to have Karen tell me that she needs me to just hold her. I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do.
Then after so much relational maneuvering—and going to “love me” at our practicum, it is so nice—even if I’m still uncomfortable with it—to simply tell Karen that I need to be held.
Silly me…so many times I get anxious or grumpy or whatever when all I need is to be held.

I need to slow down, quiet down, and trust my intuition more often.

It’s so easy for me to sit in judgment of Karen, her places of “fusion.” Then, months later I wake up to find that I’m fused around Karen’s fusion—real or perceived.

I’ve been so judgmental of “needy” people, of showing up myself “needy.” Now I’m beginning to see—with compassion—that “neediness” is legitimate need under pressure, where someone never got to be in need or have them met. “Neediness” is what you get when your not sure anyone will catch you when you fall.

Sometimes at the verge of breakthrough I am alternately “messy” and “raw-clean!”

I ran the Bare Bun Run, a 3 mile foot race in the nude! What I love is the innocence and openness—not just physical openness, but heart openness—at the nudist camp. It’s as though the lack of clothing drops pretense and defenses. So much friendliness and no perceptible sexuality. Children and obesity and the sagging skin of old folks. The freedom is truly amazing.

When I ask to be loved I face shame, embarrassment, shyness, then rationalizations that I am inconveniencing Karen…that she couldn’t love someone, particularly a man, who actually, outwardly needed and asked for love.
But then I sit quietly, knowing that Karen is still there.
Amazing. I was able to cleanly ask for what I needed and got it. And she sat with me, loved me, enjoyed loving me because it was so clean and pure and raw and open.

One morning of late I got up before Karen and found my way down the stairs an into the hot tub, sitting with the morning as it unfolded. My mind/emotions were quiet and when a bird sang it was as if I was within the bird’s song, within the sound and the joy itself. Pure joy. Then I looked up to see an airplane in the morning sun. My mind didn’t label it or anything about it. Instead I had a oneness with the sunlight on it and the air that flowed over it. Incredible.

When Karen opens up and tells me of her hidden places I melt. I don’t remember being so trusted. Dropping into compassion, dropping, allowing my heart to expand like a cloud of moisture. I couldn’t be more fulfilled.

Poem of the Dammed

Poem of the Dammed

I am hardened, reinforced with steel
I span the banks
Never moving, never compromising my
rigid boundaries

I arch my back to
Hold myself against the flow
Closed, not allowing,
Not opening, not open

Behind me builds this
Vast pressure, this
Great unrelenting burden
Yet I hold fast to my anchorage
Trusting my foundation
Unwilling to venture a peek, a spout
That would surely result in
My painful death

Holding fast, the rain
Continue to fall
And my burden grows daily
Straining me, torturing me

Though the reinforcement of fear
Is great
The strain-full suffering
Grows greater
Oblivious to myself I am parched, a desert
A living dilemma
My convicted contractions
Meant to protect me
Now hurt me with unbearable,
Strain-full suffering

Oh, that I were not
So strongly hardened
Oh, that I knew my gateways
Oh, that I were not a dam at all
That I might discover
My dreaded shadow—that
Ugly, filthy, dangerous and disgusting beast
To be no less than the
Waters of life

Oh, that I might break
The concrete and steel that
Surrounds my heart
Burst forth
And see myself for what
I was meant to be—
A part of the River of Life

The deserts and wastelands
Before me would again
Spring forth in abundance

Oh, that I might have the
Strength to let go of
What I take to be my strength
And realize the power and glory
Of my flow


Kurt Treftz 1999, 2006

Dream: My Grandson, Me, and the Warship

I have a sense of this being THE dream for me right now. Here we go:

Both I and my grandson (13 year-old Brennan) are in the navy and serving on a warship. The ship is big, complex with many decks and equipment. It is heavy, huge, massive and powerful, armed with great guns.

Brennan and I are both in service within the ship and it—we—come under attack. The ship is wrecked, not sunk, but ruined and we are among the survivors who have to struggle to escape the torn metal and flames.

I know I’m out, but for some time I can’t find my grandson, Brennan. I feel desperate and helpless. Later, he is found.

Much later we are assembled and waked through a ceremony to be awarded medals for our honor, our valor. I look at Brennan, both of us conscious of each other and the ordeal, we weep bitterly, amazed of the immensity of what we’d been through, the suffering, and the absolutely amazing relief. In the end we’re both okay, and more than okay. We’re together, we’ve made it, and we’re free.

At first I saw this literally. My grandson, Brennan, and I had always been close. I was the only one who could settle him, we were tight, we respected the sound of my voice. Six years ago I was married to Diana, and in our household we had 3 kids and two grandsons (from the eldest daughter.) Then, between launching a kid, a divorce, then seeing who could handle what teenagers, it was soon only myself, my son, Joseph, and my grandson, Brennan. After launching Joseph—by the time Karen came into my life—it was just Brennan and I and he’d had quite an emotional ride watching the family fall apart (not that it was really “together” before that.) But he and I had watched the destruction, if not sinking of the ship—our family as we’d known it.

But then Karen offered something that I missed entirely. Something that connected perfectly within me as I heard it: In the dream Brennan represented me, my child within. And I, as witness, watched the rescue and saving of my own “child.” The ship was my old “way of being,” with all it’s grand structure, bulk and momentum. I have been feeling so open and vulnerable lately. I’m out of the ship. My freedom is my reward for the valor of “holding on” and making it. Right now I just want to cry.

I've been continuing to let go of a way of being around achieving/doing and it is quite a ride. (NOTE: It's a long entry...the last paragraph is perhaps most important.)

Example 1: I have limited energy to run my business. Oh, I have some, but it's well placed these days...like I'm budgeting my energy there. Rewarding, yes, but I just can't pour in the hours I used to. This creates some conflict with my busines partner as she's not quite ready to let go of "busy-ness" and achievement....
Example 2: After starting flight training to gain current status (flight physical, flight time with rigorous maneuvers, book study) I just don’t have the energy to practice and train and study and keep it all up.
This creates some conflict with my busines partner as she's not quite ready to let go of "busy-ness" and achievement....
Example 3: I haven’t gone kayaking all year this year. I know I love it but my passion is elsewhere…I haven’t the energy.
Example 4: Backed off around real estate investing. I have some work to do there but not enough energy to really get it going…
This creates some conflict with my busines partner as she's not quite ready to let go of "busy-ness" and achievement....
Example 5: Hired my sone for $thousands to work on our house. Also hired a contractor friend. Just can’t do it all myself anymore…probably never could…just did it and suffered.

It’s not like I’m “getting old.” Shit, on my daughter’s birthday I was out late, had 7 shots of one liquor or another, and only felt a little tired the next day. I expected to be wasted the next day. I was as good as when I was a teenager. (Not that I wish to make it a habit.) I also ran the Bare Buns Run a week ago…a naked 3 miler, ½ uphill in the sun! I did fine.

In my shift, my letting go of a “way of being” I realize how I’ve instead missed “playing” around other areas of my life:
--alcohol and recreational drugs, even if in moderation. And now more than ever, not being afraid to use something to “explore.”
-- smoking (I’ve realized that I actually use this “ritually” where I allow the feeling of vulnerability and come from that place rather than being defended. It’s even helped me “extinguish” a fear by realizing more about the feedback within my body on an intuitive level.)
--Dancing! (night club or ecstatic or…) Karen and I dance a daily Gabrielle Roth “Wave” routine for 30 minutes (body parts warm up, flow-feminine, staccato-masculine, chaos, lyrical, and stillness) and we’ve gone out once recently…and some evenings ago we danced together in our living room (and, importantly, when Karen sat down I kept dancing.) What was interesting that evening was that I’d hit a wall that afternoon, but was energized by dancing.
--self care and even pampering (spa treatments and massage.) I’ve lived less than 1% of my partner in this realm. I’ve invested in fragrances (facial mists, candles…) and I’m “allowing” myself to go to tanning booths or to just lay in the sun! For years I was so judgmental of others who “wasted” time laying in the sun!!! I was so very purpose oriented!! I’ve now been to a Korean spa twice…first angry with society (partly true in that men don’t have as much access, but I was projecting big time!) and when I first went it was like going to save some little boy who was crying, alone and I had to get to him to sooth him!
--crying and laughing. I’m want to open up my ability to be spontaneous. Recently Karen let me into her truth more and I got to have sequential days of heart-breaking-opening tears. What a joy to be free like that! Also, it’s so fun to laugh. More playing and teasing and being silly. (Not that the tough stuff is “bad” now…just that there’s more “lightness” to balance things.)
--hanging out. Karen and I have a new (couple months) ritual to sit and visit every morning while sipping coffee. I recall inviting a friend to go camping with me once some years ago and he looked forward to sitting in camp and sipping coffee…I thought he was crazy-lazy as I wanted to hike every hill. Recently while camping with Karen I sat still most of the whole time and loved it…watching mountain sheep, waking in the middle of the night to see a deer near us, muskrats and more.
--travel. I’d gotten as far as Bermuda (business, but much fun), Hawaii (several islands, including hang gliding), and the Los Cabos area of Mexico prior to being with Karen. I just couldn’t give myself permission to go and travel further…some had to do with getting away from a business. But Karen, with far less resources had been to India and Thailand 3 times, Tahiti, Fiji and the Bahamas. Of course, now we’ve done some incredible stuff in India, Thailand, and Costa Rica…
--Various Meditations and Therapies. I’m just learning of Dynamic Meditation, looking at getting more education in bodywork/massage, and have an interest in Rebirthing. I want to look more into shamanic traditions as I know there’s a part of me that I want to get back in touch with. But first I have to admit that I was too judgmental in the past around “woo-woo.” Yes, some of it can be ingenuine, but I threw out the baby with the bath-water!

The process takes me through an anguish of not having manifested or been open to these things…where I limited myself. Then as the anguish goes away, I feel small, “neophyte,” “less-than” as I let go of a way of being that buoyed my confidence in the past. In the past I relied on a “comparative enough” to be in the world. I drop from knowing into an extreme vulnerability of not-knowing…a scary place that most of us avoid. I know I did.

The Rip and Tear of Leaving a Way of Being

I have found myself with less energy to work on my business (it's there, but measured, has to be more fun...less driven or efforting, cant'do that), and even stuff like flying an airplane (don't want the hassle of bi-annual training, keeping current with flight time and reading, paperwork...if I flew often it would be "flowing" "natural" and worth it...otherwise, no), and remodling the house (I've done this for years, work all day then work on the house for hours. The house was a metaphor for "Me"...I can't fix "me" by fixing the house...but when I'm relaxed my creativity and work results in my(our) house and gardens to be an expression of my(our) inner life and that's good.)


After reading a bunch of writing of Almaas, I write the following:
So identified with "not enough support forthcoming from the mother or father (in childhood), this sense of smallness and dependency is experienced as helplessness, deficiency and inadequacy." I can see that, although I have also enjoyed "achieving" in life, so much of the way of being I'm "abandoning" or letting go of has to do with achieving in order to compensate for the above sense of deficiency.

Almaas writes:
"Since one deeply believes (usually unconsciously) that the inadequacy is not a state but a fact, and this causes a deep hopelessness about the possibility of expansion, one defends against this awareness by settling for a mediocre life. If there is any expansion it is small and usually only external."
...well for me I've expanded plenty in certain areas of my life, but to be more relaxed, playful...even silly at times, creative (again, as it would be a return), dancing, joking, laying in the sun (allowed beyond a heavy judgment of "lazy" for the first time in my life)...this is the direction of expansion that I'd not previously allowed.

A case cited by Almaas:
"Jordan's case:
He cannot stop doing one thing after another, managing so many jobs and commitments and interests that he now has no time to relax. None of his activities is particularly difficult, but to be involved in all of them is very demanding and takes all his time and energy. He does not truly need to do all of them, but he somehow cannot see that. He keeps complaining about how busy and hurried he is, but he will not stop. "
...reminds me of myself...although I've been releasing this over the past 10 years or so....I think I went back into this way of being when I remarried 3 years ago, knowing I had someone to provide for, to impress?, to be competent around (yup, that's to impress)...and when moving from family, friends, and her work left her depressed for a while I just redoubled the way of being to help us/her because I wasn't beyond it yet!

"but if one goes deeply into himself, exposing the deeper layers of the ego structure, he is bound, sooner or later, to come face to face with this dreaded basic characteristic of his individuality. "
...yes, big time. And I refer to this, from Anthony DeMello, as Aloneness--that paradoxical place where as one fully embraces the aloneness and not longer "rush toward" or "cling to" another, one actually becomes free to intimately commune, even enjoy union, with another.

I totally love the affirmation within the following passage:
"Our exploration of the deeper layers of the normal personality reveals that these defenses are still present and are in fact employed extensively. They become more active, or rather more consciously active, in the deeper stages of inner realization, revealing, in the presence of every ego individuality, structures that are, or are similar to, psychotic, borderline, narcissistic and schizoid structures. "
(I added the bold)
...and...
"Basically, with this resolution, one attains a much greater measure of disidentification from the state of inadequacy. When the inadequacy manifests it is regarded as an emotional state, just like any other, that is transient and conditional on certain identifi­cations. One stops believing it is a true description of who one is. It will manifest whenever there is a major expansion, but it does not stop one's expansion."
(my underline again)

Kurt and his mother

Everyone saw me interact around my sense of lovability...and how I've striven to "make up" for any un-lovability. And you saw, I believe, how I "was" a little boy in that process. What only one or two people knew was that earlier I had connected around the image of Peter Pan...

I'd always been brought to tears with Robin William's portrail of an older Peter who'd left Neverland to live in the regular world. I suddenly saw why I was so drawn to that story and why it made me cry. You see, when Peter Pan went into the world he became very adult, a successful business man. But he lost his playfulness, he missed musch of his young son's life...his baseball games, for example. And, now as Peter Panning, he was so afraid of heights that he was terrified to fly in an airplane! I'd alway knew that I cried when he found himself again as Peter Pan, but I had no idea why. During our first practicum weekend I saw the achiever he'd become and the boy in himself he'd lost. I also knew what it was like to develope a fear of heights, even though I'm a pilot (very irrational fear...as I suppose they are.) How he'd given up so much in order to achieve was lost on me before...

Anyway, Wayne's process gave me permission to visit something that is an undercurrent in the Peter Pan story: "I wish I had a mother." As I repeated it I began to cry. I was grieving what I had never had in my mother. (For that matter, she'd never had it in hers either.) I somehow new I was onto something by allowing myself to grieve, not "loss," but absence. (It has shown up as clinging for acceptance and approval and fear of abandonement.)

This was where I was when Robert and Wendy led me into and through my valley of the shadow of death...and all of you were in front of me. I will tell you that I went to a state of near-no-mind...in fact I wasn't so articulate, nor did I care, for awhile. I went to a place where I envisioned all of my fellow practicum participates could go onto being the greatest counselors on earth and me do nothing at all...be no one special...and I'd be perfect just as I am. It was quite the state of beingness...

Well, about 4 days later I spoke to my mother on the phone. And she was contracted, once again by a criticism of someone...bound by her dependency on others for a sense of self, and I just loved her. Things that used to hook me just didn't matter. I didn't need anything from her anymore...I was now just there for her. I talked with her for quite a while, very willing to just drop whatever was going on in my day to be with her on the phone. Most amazing though, was a particular event. When I asked her a question and she in her typical fashion went off tangent without even beginning to answer the question...she caught herself and said, "I didn't answer your question did I?" And we both laughed about it. I, at that moment...the first for as long as I can remember...saw how cute my mother is. I saw "cuteness" in her "stuff" and I told her how cute she was.

For so much of my life I've made the fact that my mother is emotionally frozen at about age 4 or 5 into a problem. This day I saw how cute this 74 year old 4 year old really is. Her beauty is just there in her beingness. I couldn't see it so long as I looked for something else.