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.