doubleblind

It takes a certain amount of stability to hand over the illusion of control when you care deeply about another person.  There have been times when I wanted someone so badly that it resembled a self serving, indulgence in endorphins rather than anything representing my true love for them. Oddly enough, it is the unspoken undeniable connection that makes it a little easier for me to justify some space.  I must rely on believing that love is not selfish.  I think the most powerful transformative type of love occurs with those who don't necessarily do anything for it.  We don't love them because they are good cooks, good listeners, the best in bed always, but because there is just something about them, we can’t quite put our finger on, that draws us in.  There is a curiosity, a desire to know more.  What if I was more patient?  Even if it didn’t turn out the way I expected, could I tolerate not slamming the emotional door and open myself to the possibility of not knowing what the future may bring?  Can I be open hearted with out being overwhelming?  Could we be cultivate a friendship?  

This weeks date was actually double blind.  He didn’t know he would be participating in my project, and quite frankly neither did I.  I decided to write about him, (whom I will refer to as dance#13), after realizing how juicy our interaction had become for me.  Many of the descriptions and lessons unfolded throughout the week and I felt it was essential to include our interaction in the project even though the events transpired without ever actually going on a date.   

Two weeks ago:

I felt pressure on the crown of my head and I pushed back.  I was laying on the floor and I wasn’t able to see the the body inviting me to dance.  I determined that it was indeed a foot that circled around the back of my neck, and tilted my face upward. It slid down my spine guiding my torso upright and I effortlessly came to standing.  I paused and listened.  He was new to me, I had not danced with him before and this was the first time I had ever seen him in the studio.  He was strong.  Beneath his loose fitting cotton pants  were padded knees and lean muscular legs.  I appreciated the clear channel being built between us, free of static and confusion.  We were open and sensitive to each others signals and energy.  I placed my hands on him with supportive intention.  My fingers extended flat onto his chest, as if I was placing my hand onto the surface of still water.  My arm draped over his shoulder from behind.  I etched the texture of his warm, damp, cotton t-shirt into my memory.   A lightness from my fingertips took in the influence of his body.  

His straight spine and smooth movements lifted me into swirling circles.  I rounded his hips and my feet gently returned to the floor.  I honed in on the type of connection we were creating.  My head was quiet and our bodies communicated simply.  I put pressure on his thigh.  He took me at my waist, and raised me up over his leg and we regained our balance.  I listened deeply and I was open to what was unfolding.  We spiraled around each other.  I could tell he liked to fly, so I let him. I waited for opportunities where I knew I could support his weight and he seized these offerings transforming any heaviness I might bear into fluid movement, sliding over me.  He was conscious of his weight and shifted seamlessly to accommodate my shape.  A bond was being built.  With each time we interacted in the dance, intimacy grew.  

That night, before I went to sleep I re-watched an amazing contact improv video I had posted on my Facebook page a few days prior.  The video of the couple began to play.  All of a sudden the movements of the the man dancing across my computer screen seemed very familiar.  I furrowed my brow and sat there in disbelief as I began to realize that he, in fact was the man I had danced with that morning.  I was beside myself.  I felt honored and extremely lucky to have an experience of such transcendental proportions.

Last week Saturday:

The morning after I flew in from New York I decided to go dancing.  I wanted another opportunity to connect with dance#13, even though I was getting over a cold and was still tired.  I walked in and began warming up.  I saw him enter the studio and I averted my eyes.  I was feeling self conscious of my energy.  The interaction I had with mr.ten ignited my fear of being too much.  I figured I would wait for dance#13 to approach me.  Maybe the trick was to always let them do all the work so that I will never feel rejected.  The problem was he never did.  I felt passive aggressive.  My incredulous attempt of control just lead me back to the same feeling of separateness.  I was simply swinging the pendulum in the opposite direction.  Expecting him to independently react to my odd manipulation, was still creating a one-sided dynamic.  I shut down and I knew I was falling into blame and that ever so familiar trench of feeling like a victim.  My somatic response was a cue that I was entering the territory of grey once again.  

Hard and fast rules simply don't work when it comes to relationships.  There are too many variables.  It reminds me of something a math teacher once told me.  Simply memorizing rules will not help you on a test when you maybe asked to solve a problem which may look unfamiliar.  We must learn how to navigate our feelings without a formula and with practice we wil become more comfortable with resolution and interaction on a case by case basis.  Society hasn’t made such incredible technological advancements due to following the same set of rules over and over again, in the same order.  We may use the same general concepts and improve upon them, but it takes a certain amount of sensitivity, gauging and creativity to be able to navigate one of the most complex specimens of all, human beings; ourselves included.  I left the studio that morning feeling sheepish and vowing that next time, I would make more of an effort. 

I went to a contact class dance#13 taught on Wednesday night, and brought my open heart with me.  I left my expectations behind.  I was ready to practice fearless vulnerability again.  The dancing begun and I joined him and a few other dancers.  He and I eventually separated from the group.  Our bodies began to converse, unspoken questions, answered calmly and softly in a soft inaudible whisper.  How are you? Where are you? What is your experience? How deep do you want to go? Are you warmed up? Do you wanna go deeper? Can I let go?  Are you letting go? I feel you going there, I am there too.  

Our dance was happening in my consciousness, my body became a receptacle for his energy.  He poured himself into me.  Slowly my energy dropped into his body once I felt confident he was ready for it.  Our rhythm quickened and intensified.  I let go.  All of my being flowed down toward my center, it swirled around inside of me preparing to be given as a gift.  

He was down on the floor his legs extended toward my back, which was faced away from him, hovering just in front of his feet.  I felt him root up onto the small of my back, which was now our only point of contact.  I instinctively collapsed backward and magically soared toward the celling.  I was laying horizontal, face up suspended over his body.  My arms and legs were outstretched reaching energetically upward.  The opaque darkness of my sweet surrender was surreal.  I felt beautifully light, a glorious resurrection.  For only a moment I came back into my conciseness.  I became aware of the distance between me and the floor.  It was crucial for me to maintain the state of trust I initially found from deep within myself and him. I was completely depending on him to keep me from crashing to the ground.  He's got me, I thought.  I was one-hundred percent confident in his ability to hold me and keep me safe.  He held me suspended in the air until the circuit was complete, and the exchange was fulfilled.  He released me and I physically came back to earth, but my mind was still completely immersed in him.  My spirt was swimming inside his body, like water in a balloon.  The studio session was coming to a close for the evening.  I came down to him and we embraced on the cool and now noticeably unwavering floor.  I swiftly brought my flushed cheek to the center of his rapidly rising and falling chest.  I was as still as possible.  His shirt was saturated with sweat and it cooled my flush cheek. I consciously released any musculature in my neck and the weight of my head sank deep into his heart.  I was fragile, even though my body had been safely retuned to the floor, I had concerns that I may be abandoned to process the sensations pulsing through my senses alone.  I prayed that his body would remain still with mine.  I felt as though any abrupt movement would have broken me.  I listened to his heartbeat, I was as open and vulnerable as I had ever been.  I was still listening to his soothing unspoken vibrations.  I maintained a solid boundary by not crumbling onto him energetically as to not overwhelm him, yet  I reveled in, and enjoyed our closeness.  Slowly the bricks of my being were transferred  from his body, back into mine.  They were dragged one at a time, stacked securely and properly atop one another.  When I felt my foundation had been securely laid, I slowly opened my eyes and I rolled up to sitting, one vertebrae at a time.  I witnessed him do the same.  When I was ready, I crossed my legs and our knees stayed connected.  He laid his hand over my leg at my ankle.  We sat there tenderly silent through the closing ritual of the dance.  I kept waiting for him to pull away be he didn't, not until it was over. 

We talked after.  Our conversation strengthened my trust in him.  He felt so safe.  He said he would’t run.  I loved that I had this stable connection with a man in the container that we were operating in, that of dance.  Nobody wants to fall.  Taking a leap of faith is not just about choosing the right person.  I trust dance#13 but I can’t just jump onto his body hoping he’ll be able to catch me with no buildup, without a connection that has been previously and mutually established.  The more complicated, intimate moves need to start with a base of stability, connection and mutual communication.  

I feel a loosening and state of ease in my body as I become enlightened to the fact that my responsibility is to hold the space for the relationships I want to develop, so there is a safe container for response. 

Sunday afternoon:

I ran into dance#13 at the grocery store.  We began talking about confusing  indeterminate lengths of certain relationships.  How are we supposed to navigate intense singular connections?  Do we hold back when really we want to give, because we aren’t looking for more than a few independent interactions with a particular person?  What if they want more?  Does that leave us ethically liable?, in emotional debt?, or worse emotional overdraft?  What about all those outrageous fees?  What about the issue of communicating clearly what we want, but are still not met with respect when it comes to our boundaries?  Can we impose time limits or expiration dates on interaction?  Not every relationship is intended to be life long.  We are fallible humans.  Sometimes an influx or an overflow of connection can’t possibly be maintained with everyone we meet.  Relationships do take our energy and in turn we have to hold the energy coming our way as well.  I believe the solution lies in whether we are willing to stay open to the possibility of reuniting after an inevitable pause?  Often our relationships are looked at in terms of positive space.  In other words the actual events of what happened between two people.  But what about the time in between?  

Can relationships be defined by space apart?  The interval of disconnection sometimes leads us to forget what occurred in the past, and spark our desire to reignite a connection and give it another chance.  So in the mean time we wait.  We wait to make the call, or we wait for the call to come in.  Dictation of the appropriate assignment of whom will assume one role or the other is impossible.  The tipping point usually occurs when one person is called to undeniable action.  

What does giving up on a relationship look like?  How do we determine the final fatality of a relationship?  What if I said there were certain individuals I committed to not giving up on?  What if I reciprocated?  Most of the endings of my relationships stem more from my not responding than the other way around.  Probably because I am too busy chasing the ones who aren't responding to me.  So what if I did that? Respond to those who respond to me, and put all others on hold.  Not close the door, but maybe give space and revisit later.  A kind of relationship hibernation, not a relationship funeral.  That would be beautiful.  My grief would lessen.  I could feel held even by those who I previously labeled as having abandoned me.  I, in turn could practice being more available myself.  Learning what I can give and what I can’t.  Accepting my limitations and setting boundaries so that I am also participating in relationships I want to be in.

After we finished our conversation in aisle 5, Lucy and I made our way to the parking lot. He came out while I was getting everything in the car and he stopped to talk again.  It was as if the universe placed him in my path to witness his greatness as it relates to my journey.  I am sure on some level the energy coming from me will influence his journey as well.  During our conversation, Lucy was playing DJ and the music was so loud that it served as the sound track to what was beginning to felt like a scene in a movie.  Lucy looked at dance#15 and asked him if he liked the particular song that was playing.  Right at that very moment the lyrics “so I’ll leave it in your hands now, to come through” flowed out of the car window.  Clearly I was participating in a very kismet scene in my life story.  I was able to contain my astonishment and remain present.  I became aware that we were encased by an intentional flow that was surrounding us.  

Looking into his blue eyes, I got a glimpse of something that I have never really experienced before, a stringless powerful, smooth and balanced exchange.  Our words had a texture to them, a sight, a smell, a touch and a sound.  They were dimly lit and felt like someone running their fingers up your arm.  They were perfumed with the scent of a lover’s pillow and sounded like the best part of your favorite song.  I felt moments of hesitation on his part to open up, but I think once he realized I was a safe person to share with, he opened his channel as well.  I put my arm around him and his center emitted a gentle softness as he held me in return.  It makes me smile just thinking about it.  We met each other right where we were, each of us in the midst our individual processes.  We didn't bring any parasitic need rooted in past hurts, to each other.  He was a reflection of the loving care I was so freely extending to him.  The way he shared his fear, his nerves and his confusion were easy to cradle, it wasn’t about me.  Right there in the parking lot my soul was wrapped in the softest blanket, and offered fragrant hot tea.  This intimate sacred space glowed an orange blossom hue and was positioned somewhere between the pavement and heaven.  

Our conversation was contained in a space free of all trauma and childhood hurts.  This is the place I have been searching for.  I wish I could have run here during those days,  all of them; the exotic dancing days, the days of abuse from my father, the abuse from all of the others, the attacks from my mother, when I felt alone with a brand new baby, during the inner monologue that told me I was too different, the hangovers, the rejection from guys at the bar.   All of those times I needed someone, but there was no one to be found.  How did this manifestation occur?  Why now?  It’s about the container, me.  I had to learn to be able to hold my own feelings first, before I could relate to being wrapped in unconditional love.  In the past I wanted someone to take my on feelings and relieve me of my inner suffering.  Today I desire something very different.  I allow my feelings fly as they will inside of me, and I crave only a witnesses to the emotions I am holding myself.  My trusted anchor preventing gravity from washing me away.  I drove out of the Whole Foods parking lot full of energy that was so clearly showing me the miracle of paying attention.  Somehow my interaction with him has quenched a thirst I possessed for non-sexual intimacy with a man that I was drawn to.  A man whom I found physically attractive, emotionally drawing but whom I did not expect anything from.

I witnessed this manifest for dance#15 when he danced blind.  He had his eyes closed for about 10 to 15 minutes while another dancer and I kept catching him as he figuratively fell, over and, over and, over again.  We were his eyes.  He didn’t collapse his knees, he leaned into us,  bending without caving in.  I am in awe of what I have never experienced before.  So impermanent and so perfect.  It culminated all of the beauty I had ever experienced, washing over us in and endless wave of pure love.  

In this moment, as I am writing, I am experiencing the most amazing emotional high I have ever felt.  I feel safe in feeling it fully and deeply because it’s not dependent on anyone changing their mind.  It is based on the isolated experience of a shared moment, which can never be taken away.  It will always be mine.  It may aways be ours.  The intensity may fade, I may forget exactly what it felt like but no one can ever take it away from me.  I will continue to stay open to loving connections like this more often.