Cultivating happy relationships and finding dishsoap….

I was interviewed by a very sweet man and woman who are in the process of a launching a six week tele-class.  If you’ve read some of my earlier writings, you may know that I  have somewhat of an aversion to the proliferation of tele-classes.   And while I respect  anyone that gets it together to sincerely put their message in the world, there’s just, well, so much out there.   It’s like going to the grocery store in the U.S.   Case in point.   I went to get  dishwashing liquid  a few weeks ago and the number of choices amid the different types of soap were staggering.   Not wanting to linger, I grabbed one that had the key phrase ‘eco’ on it.   So now my whole household had been complaining “this smells like bleach.  No, really, it smells like bleach”.   Finally, I look at the label and it does indeed contain bleach, AND it is for the dishwasher, AND it will fuck up your hands if you use it for handwashing, which we all have been doing and I’m wondering why my hands are so fucked up.   Now I realize I have culpability.   I should have read the label.   But I was quite frankly inundated.  I just wanted the darn dishsoap.   Which is my way of saying, in the world of dish soap and  telec-lasses, there is soooooo much out there, how does one choose?   What criteria exists?   And tele-classes aren’t cheap.   For men and women who feel some sort of desperation or frustration around their personal and sexual issues, dropping $400 to way, way more cash in the hopes of - pick one:
better sex
more connection
more sex
a girlfriend, finally
any sex at all
understanding women
understanding men
understanding yourself
Well, this could go on.   You get my drift.

Don’t get me wrong.   These people are quite sincere.  And I wish them great success.   And I will contribute my own little piece towards that end.  At this moment, I am reminded of a lesson my teacher gave..   It references a state of being that embodies competition, jealousy, proving oneself.   The shadow side of this orientation sees goals, but is afraid of failure so she doesn’t compete.   Hmmmmm.   I sense a vulnerability here.   Could this be why I don’t -write, market, produce a video, do workshops, update my website?  Ouch.  And am always on the ready to provide feedback to others who are producing  material?  Double ouch.

What all of this is leading me to is taking their questions, which they emailed to me prior to the interview, maybe one at a time, to practice taking action on my blog.   Or a video blog.   Or a book.  (settle down)   Or some activity to discover how I might share myself in a relaxed way.

Here goes.

What are the three most important elements in a happy and fulfilling relationship?  This begs the question, what kind of relationship?  The United States holds a peculiar type of fantasy, not held in many parts of the world, that fantasy of romance portrayed in movies, literature and most talk shows.   The fantasy that some special person exists, and upon meeting, we will be sexually, emotionally,  and mentally congruent.   We will share values and daily habits.   We will never, ever feel attracted to another person again.   And that there is something inherently wrong with me, or you, if any of these criteria slip away.   If they were ever there to begin with, given that our projection is so powerful when we are physically attracted to someone that we rarely see another as they are, naked, vulnerable, flawed.

So here are mine…..

1. A willingness, followed by activity, for self inquiry.   Commit to seeing yourself, your patterns, your tensions.   Commit to a practice to relax those tensions.   Meditation, therapy, a church or spiritual program.   Become lovingly ruthless in observing yourself.  By all means, avoid dropping into shame.   Remember we are human.   All of us.

2. Practice relaxing those tensions with your partner(s).  Your family.   The person behind the counter.   This is a physical practice, I’ll speak more of later.   It is the capacity to experience the patterns in your body when those tensions arise.   When we want to share something we believe our partner will judge or be uncomfortable with.  When we ourselves feel judged or uncomfortable.  The practice of dropping into our hearts and breath in those uncomfortable moments.

3. Traveling in developing countries, where, unlike the U.S., life and death is more in your face, daily, I am reminded of a irrefutable truth.   There is not a website or news service that does not  confirm daily, that this could be my last day.   If I keep this in the forefront of my consciousness, each interaction, whether it be with a partner, a family member, a stranger, an opening emerges.   A tender seeing.  Listening.   Savoring.  Appreciating. A gratitude that takes nothing for granted.

So that’s my 3.  Throw in a sense of humor, a respect of how each one of us shows up, and a commitment to move away from holding to the past or projecting to the future.

Let me know how it goes….

Resistance

There is a profound little book, “The War of Art”  by Steven Pressfield.  This book delineates that Resistance is the true enemy of ALL artists, writers, entrepreneurs and spiritual seekers.   All of us who ‘want’ to start doing yoga, lose weight, leave a relationship, leave a job or commit to any political, moral or ethical endeavor, or change for the better some unworthy thought pattern or conduct in ourselves.  This morning,  I have:  watered the plants, made broccoli parmesan, pulled some weeds, got grouchy at my partner for not following through on a personal commitment that had nothing to do with me, put dishes away,  waxed eloquent about ‘other’ peoples lives and what they could be doing, and read emails.   I’m sure there’s more.   All this in the spirit of resistance.  To forestall sitting at this blank page, any blank page, to deepen my path and commit to writing.  To dive into what is the expression of my personal voice, to bring forth the genius in me, the genius that is in each of us.

About a month ago I received an email from someone who shared that they loved the writing on my blog.   Noticed I hadn’t added anything for, hmmm, two years.   Wow, that’s resistance.  I do some travel writing, deciding that only my close friends would be interested in that.  I have very intricate excuses for why I don’t write.  My favorite is “there is so much shit being written daily, I don’t want to add to the pile.  If I’m gonna write something, it has to be relevant.   Different.   Brilliant.   Something that will change the world.   At least yours.  Or mine.”   Get my drift?   I even spend time editing other peoples’ writing.   Helped one friend massively edit her blog, and then feel somewhat annoyed when it is published and the comments state what a great writer she is!

A colleague, Robert Allen, wrote a great piece “Why I Hate Tantra”.*  It begins to touch on the empty space I find myself in, after having committed the last 20 years or so in supporting individuals, couples and groups around integrating sexual and erotic expression.   There is an upcoming conference to which I have been invited to co-MC with a leader that I respect and I just don’t want to do it.

Some of you know parts of my story.   The part I’m referring to happened towards the beginning of my path on this particular ‘sexy’ road, as I was beginning to realize that I didn’t really know shit about ‘tantra’.  I’m talking about the real deal.   The committed practice of living an awake life.   Committed mindfulness.   Awareness.   An experience with a real teacher, Ma Jaya Sati, was my first slap into awareness.   I took the word ‘tantra’ off my business card, became careful how I used the word on my website.

The realizations I have been having of late actually fly in the face of what people are coming to me to ‘fix’.   Erectile dysfunction, sexual novelty, disparate desire, boredom, relationship longing.   Maybe this is a natural function of the life stage I’m in.  I’m realizing that the type of sexual, erotic and romantic engagement that our entire western marketing machine floods onto us daily is not truly sustainable.   No, you are never going to feel the way you felt in those first few months of relationship.   No, your partner (or partners) of the past 15 years will never provide the same quality of novelty that the pervasive and ever changing images of the world wide web provides.

I am compassionate to your plight.   I understand your frustration that your penis won’t stay hard, you don’t have orgasms, you don’t have the right kind of orgasms and your childhood sucked.

I just don’t want to be another voice in the wilderness saying there is quick fix, and I have it.  I don’t want to see any more  5 minute videos of what you do, or your 10 week online course.  Can’t we get it?   The states of love and lust that western culture tells us to maintain are hormonally driven states of our biological imperative, to procreate.   If you and I were in that perpetual state, we would not be sitting at our computers with electricity, either reading or writing this.  Don’t you remember being in love?   You don’t want to work, protest, give a shit about the homeless or the disenfranchised?  Though we could argue that many of our steps forward as humanity are actually killing us and the planet, there is evidence that a greater and greater number of humans are becoming aware of a growing consciousness.

I’m interested in my heart.  And your heart.   I’m interested in a vibrant level of engagement with whatever life is throwing at my feet.  Anymore, when someone asks me ‘how’s life?’, my response is “life is fine.   Life is doing what it does.   I suffer when I resist embracing what life brings to my door.   Injury, illness, aging.   Beauty, nature, communion.  I’m interested in feeling how my body opens and closes, and I’m committed to remembering how to open in the presence of those daily contractions.

And I might suggest, that as each of us remembers and practices this spaciousness, an open-hearted connection, as close as our relationship to the breath, your attachments and preoccupations with your penis, your orgasms, your relationships and your childhood can drop.

*http://www.elephantjournal.com/2010/07/why-i-hate-tantra-robert-allen/

The Alpha Goddess on Marriage

I should be an expert.  Well, not compared to say, Elizabeth Taylor.  I’ve only been married 3 times.  Evidence prevails that sheer numbers does not make one an expert, perhaps only optimistic.  Truth is, I’d say I make a fairly good wife.  Lots of practice.  Good genes.  Thousands of years of DNA in service to the masculine.  A role model mother that was exemplary.  And references from former partners that this is indeed the case.  What brings this musing on the institution of marriage, you may ask?  Tired subject, for sure.  I find myself preparing to officiate a marriage today. 

Right before my birthday this year, I received an email from friends, they wished me to officiate their wedding.  They wanted a woman.  Someone who was not associated with any organized church and who had a spiritual perspective on the world.  I was flattered.  After all these years, one would think that I had grown beyond the “oh my god, they want ME!” impulse.  I felt I put forth simple requests.  I wanted to meet with them 3 times.   Felt some responsibility in solemnizing vows with 30 somethings if I had not provided some opportunity to consider the pitfalls and obstacles of committed intimacy that I am all too familiar with. 

First meeting did not go well.  I had hoped to open the conversation on what I perceive to be the most pernicious lie in marriage:  That two people look at each other and say “I will never be attracted to another person for the rest of my life EVER!  And neither will you!  Now I am not saying that this is not possible.  Highly unlikely, yes.  Impossible, well, nothing is impossible.  Given that the U.S. has the highest divorce rate in the 1^st world, I’d say evidence exists that our dreams do not match our reality.  From that first lie, all partners collude, depending on the often ‘unspoken’ agreements; they subtly or not so subtly, manipulate or repress (as the case may be) their behavior to avoid the inalienable truth that we may be abandoned at any moment.  That we are truly, utterly alone.  That we may find some temporary respite or comfort in one another, but that more than likely the evolutionary hormones that drive desire shift, and without intention and awareness, one or the other finds themselves drifting towards ennui, boredom, and the mistaken conclusion that there is something better out there, that next time it WILL be different.

So anyway, that’s what I had hoped to prepare these young optimists for.  Barely a word from them for the next several months, until just a few days before the ceremony I receive their vows.  There it is, the line that I know I could not speak “I, (insert name), take you (another name) in MONOGAMY for the rest of our lives.  I was sick to my stomach.  The families are in town.  More energy had been placed on who was bringing the coolers and getting the groomsmen meaningless gifts, than the words that would set the intention for their lives together.  I could really give the bride something to worry about (truth is anyone from any conventional church would be happy to read those vows), but what came up more for me was, what was my line in the sand?  Do I go along, just to not make other people uncomfortable?  Do I have some over-inflated sense of self that what I do/say has that much impact?  The groom and I spoke.  He admitted that he had abdicated responsibility in crafting the words.  New job, avoiding conflict, over-extended financial, personal and professional responsibilities.  He agreed with me.  She had asked him numerous times to participate.  The word ‘monogamy’ was important to her.  He told me I really wasn’t aware of her ‘wound’ how sensitive she was about this.  She had been in open relationships and been betrayed.  I said “WE HAVE All BEEN BETRAYED!”. In the most loving of relationships, we all at some time, have, and will, disappointment one another.  Do we have, what I call, the internal muscles, that allow us to speak, listen and experience the true revealing of ourselves and the other, while simultaneously keeping our hearts open.  Ouch.  Not an easy job. Do we accept that for love to move through our bodies, to sustain the qualities of open expression, we need to get comfortable with the truth that we change.  We grow.  That love does not ‘die’.  The form, the expression of the relationship may change.  But love, that spacious open expression of life, is always there, right inside you and I.  Independent of what the other or the world does or says. 

And yes, all the sex toys we have created, tantric workshops and marriage encounters may produce temporary novelty, but what don’t I want to face?  That we all die?  That we are imperfect?  That I do not complete anyone anymore than they complete me?  That ultimately, I am my partner for life?

So what happened?  I asked the groom to place his voice in the vows.  To shift the word ‘monogamy’ to ‘fidelity’.  And he did.  And today they will stand before me, their families and friends, and I will wish for them to become the most courageous they can be as I read their words…….

Jealousy

We have a house dog, an oversized Pomeranian.  My housemates’ ‘boyfriend’.  Pomeranians are very attached.  This means if she is around, he is so not interested in anyone else.  A few weeks ago, she was going away for a few days and asked us, my sweet partner and I, if we wanted to have the dog at home.  She usually takes him everywhere.  I think she asks us just to be polite, that she is not ‘hogging’ the dog.  I said “sure”, wouldn’t mind having the little guy around for awhile, he can actually be quite sweet, sleeps with us if she’s not around.  Ten minutes later she is downstairs, wanting to negotiate.  She’s in tears, “how about she takes the dog one evening, brings him home the next.  Having a daily practice of examining attachments, all of us in the house actually, I’m wondering what’s up here.  She’s really attached to the dog.  Wow. 

Now I’ve had a lifetime of looking at jealousy from every possible emotionally charged angle.  Married for many years to a man who had a seemingly limitless queue of women.  Involved in the examination of coupledom, polyamory, all expressions of intimate relating.  Mentally, philosophically, I’m down.  In my sane moments I rest in the spacious, unattached expression of living a life.  Love and freedom being able to live in the same room.  Desiring to take pleasure in my partner’s pleasure.  And aware that my cultural and social imprinting do not support this.  From an early age, we are taught to share some things, but definitely not others.  Anthropologists even suggest that there is an aspect of jealousy that is part of our DNA.  As a neanderthal girl, if you followed that young thing down the hill, I would be left helpless against predators, disadvantaged in raising my young.  When land became private property, sometime after the Dark Ages, paternity became relevant, hence ownership of women, a guarding of purity of that gene pool. 

Ok, I digress.  What does this have to do with the dog?  I initially was surprised.  I like to think of myself as pretty open. Yeah, yeah, in my clear moments, I love to think of myself as open.  I like to think that if my partner is not with me, maybe having a good time and not even thinking of me, I’m OK with that.  Yeah, I can even be happy.  He’s away for a few days, I’m fine.  So there’s a little judgment going on.  She can’t be without the dog for 2 days?  Come on.

Things happen pretty fast for me now.  If I find myself in judgment of anyone else, it’s a matter of days, at most, where those points are not reflected in myself.  Get this.  The next evening, I have a dream.  This lovely woman who lives in Hawaii that I literally have not seen nor thought of in years is at our house.  Basically, she is saying to me, “I want him”.  Not in any, she wants to take him away, just, she wants him.  And in the dream, I am panicked.  I am exhibiting all the physical emotional responses of my housemate.  The anxiety in my sleeping body is palpable.

This is reminding me of something that happened, oh decades ago.  I was doing acid with my soon to be first husband, an ex-lover and his new girlfriend.  I had this really cool fringe hippie vest I had gotten in NY.  The girlfriend wanted to wear the vest, put it on and was wearing it.  The whole trip I was anxious that she would just walk out with the vest on.   I should be able to let it go, it looked great on her.  Even then, as a dumb 18 yo, I intrinsically knew I had an attachment to something that was causing me suffering.  I spent the whole trip tightened around my attachment to the vest.  I couldn’t say a word about it.  I should be able to just give it to her.  Let it go.  I couldn’t let go.  It was expensive.  It was the one thing that had come out of NY with me.  It represented who I was then, the money I spent, the way I saw myself.  At the end of the trip they were leaving, going towards the door.  In a moment, she turned, slipped the vest off, and walked out the door.  I still had the vest.  Of course I have no idea what happened to it, or if I ever wore it again.

So I keep getting to practice.  I get to practice being compassionate to those around me, knowing that we each have an edge, of holding on, wanting to feel safe, loved.  That somehow if we just have this partner, this dog, this vest, we can stave off, at least temporarily, how untethered we really are.  And isn’t it interesting, that spacious untethering, that free fall, that looking right into the face of our aloneness, is where freedom is.  I just know it.

What the F**k is Tantra?