Grateful when it's not quite enough...

I’ve been working on this post for days…because it’s one of those days I used to love and now just dread.  I started cooking Thanksgiving dinners when I was 15 or so.   The first couple of years my mom lovingly guided me from the kitchen table, although she always did the baking, except for the pumpkin pie…mine was better than hers, but I hate to bake.   With each passing year, especially once I got married and I had china and silver and crystal, the meals and table settings got more elaborate.   Being the only child of an only child and my other parents’ siblings had died young, our table wasn’t surround with a lot of family, but we always found people who didn’t have anywhere else to go that day and they became our annual “thanksgiving family.”  Over the years, the thanksgiving family got to know each other and everyone looked forward to their annual catching up.  And each year, there would be new friends because a few of the old would have other plans…it was always exciting to me to see who would be around the tables. 

But what happens when life starts throwing some major curveballs?  The first came when I lost a child who every year would sing silly Thanksgiving songs after the meal.  He loved to eat, entertain and be hospitable and anytime we had cake,he said it was a party!  So “Turkey Feast” as we called it, was his kind of bliss.  The first Thanksgiving after we lost him, we decided to shake it up and do a brunch instead, but it didn’t really help and I still miss our traditional version of Thanksgiving.   The next year I was back to OUR old thanksgiving and again the year after, they were smaller  but I had no idea it would be my last big thanksgiving meal, and my last with my mom. 

Months after my mom died, who by then was basically my last living family member, we packed up and moved 1400 miles away where I anticipated scaled down holidays while dealing with some pretty profound grief.  While nothing compares to losing a child, losing your roots, the family that raised you and stabilized you has been paralyzing for me in many ways.  I don’t want it to be.  I want to be able to be bigger than it, glass half full, bright side, sunny disposition…I’ve always said I’m a realist with a lean towards the positive.  I’ve never allowed myself to be marked by and steeped in grief…I couldn’t live there, it’s just not me.  However, for someone that always went all out for the holidays, I miss that part of me and long to have it back some day.

Quite honestly, I never enjoyed having a small family, which is not only why we collected people over the years but also why I wanted to have a bunch of kids.  I excitedly anticipate the day they come for the holidays with significant others and kids in tow…I know a full house will give me a full heart!    But that’s years off…and we’ve moved states two more times since that 1400 mile move….so starting a collection of people hasn’t happened as easily as I would have liked.  This year, I tried…in fact, I contemplated even putting an ad somewhere online.  I know there are others like me, especially single parents whose kids will go to their ex’s house and they can’t be with their family for whatever reason.  My dream would be to have those people surrounding my table someday, a new “Thanksgiving Family.”  When my efforts of late were getting me nowhere, I realized a couple of things.

First, I started telling myself that I needed to be content with a thanksgiving for four…and to be happy I don’t even have to share part of the day with their dad.  I am unbelievably grateful for my kids…but honestly that’s something I feel every day.   So I started telling myself I need to be happy with “what is” versus what used to be, or what should be, or I wish would be. 

I began to tear those things apart and evaluating them this week.  I will never have those experiences again that I had the first 15-20 Thanksgivings I prepared.  Besides the most significant players having all died, the other players have married, had kids or grandkids and their lives have all changed too.  They have new places to go for dinner and I am genuinely happy for them.  Then I thought about my last two Thanksgivings where I live now…there have actually been three but I can’t recall the one before.  Two years ago, my ex husband and I had finalized our plans to divorce just two days before Thanksgiving and announced it to our world where we told everyone “we completed our marriage.”  We actually spent Thanksgiving separately….he went to one set of friends and the kids and I went to another.   But the kids complained we didn’t get to eat their favorites so we had a mini version that Sunday, where all five of us ate our last meal at a table together.  I know you’re thinking “No wonder you aren’t happy today!”   Honestly our marital relationship was over years before and so both of us felt some level of relief and it really was okay.  I just happen to be on the slightly sentimental side and for his final two weeks still living with us kept thinking “This is the last time….” Or “He won’t get to be a part of this next time…”.

Then last year I had been dating someone for a couple of months and it was characterized by too-serious- too-fast, but I was grateful to have SOMEONE extra at our table, even though by then he ate with us every day.  His kids were with their mom and so we ate in almost complete silence as he was sad they weren’t there and honestly, it was plain awkward.   So revisiting the last two years, I can find some sort of thankfulness that I don’t have to go back to either of those things! 

What do I wish?  Well, I’d be happy with a myriad of scenarios as long as there it included a host of people.  I know I can’t bring my family back, I know I can’t pretend to be a part of someone else’s.  I know I can’t snap my fingers and make it all the way I wanted it.  Basically I just want to be with more people and the day to feel special.  I will not scroll facebook today because it’s a constant reminder that it just feels like another day here at my address…only with food I make just once a year.  I will avoid the stores tomorrow because I see all of the herds of relative shopping while I shop alone.   I will try to get through the next couple of days not remembering that I am untethered when I long for that more than anything else.  Somehow, I will sit at my table with the beautiful faces of my children and not feel guilty that I couldn’t give them a “thanksgiving family”, but hopefully we can still be grateful when it’s not quite enough.  

Love Letters

I have a young teenage son who has his first real girlfriend.  While any mom enjoys watching her children develop relationally, this is even more significant for me.  You see, my son has some social difficulties and always has…in fact, there have been many days I have hoped and prayed that he would be able to have a reciprocal relationship with a girl and eventually a woman.  My son has been with his gf since early summer, and my overwhelming opinion of her is that she’s a “stellar girl” who cares very much for him.

He came to me at the beginning of the week asking to earn some extra money to buy her a birthday gift.  We talked about what he might buy, eventually my daughter and I talked him out of spending it all on flowers, and extolled him to buy something lasting.  He had gotten her earrings on their first dates so he wasn’t excited about our suggestion of a necklace.  But a few days ago he told me that she had just asked him to write her a love letter…I knew I liked that girl!  Because my son is not only a man (in the making) but also HIM, I asked him if he wanted some nice paper to write his letter on…but being the scavenger in our family, he had already found my stationary and taken care of it himself.   I was able to convince him to get an envelope for it though.  Then, this morning before he left to see her, he had a recyclable shopping bag with one of his old teddy bears and when I peered into it, he said “The letter is in there!”  He gets it…THAT’s the important stuff!  Word with actions that follow…they’re important.  I looked at him and said, “You know, she’s going to keep this forever and when she’s my age she’s going to come across it one day and reread it.” 

Or maybe her kids will read it.  I recently came across the love letters of my grandparents.  They were married almost 40 years before my grandfather died and were a great example of marriage.  My grandmother was the oldest of five kids from a single mom and quit school to help provide for her family, my grandfather was a navy man and they met one time when he was on leave.  From the letters, I’ve learned that he would travel 400 miles, which meant 16 hours on a bus each way, just to spend the weekend with her.   Unfortunately, the scrapbook only contains his letters to her, although given that my grandfather later became a writer some of the letters are works of art, but it would be nice to have seen her replies. 

They met in June and the letters go through his Christmas leave when they spontaneously got married because his orders changed.  There is a letter for every day they were apart.  As I read them a few months ago, I savored each one…it was nice to see that even though in today’s world we may often wonder if love like this still exists (gosh I hope so,) but the thing I learned is that the patterns of early relationships and blooming love are still the same.  

Now, we have the follow up text after a date…Here’s old school follow up in 1947..

“I would like to thank you again for one of the most pleasant evenings I ever spent in my entire life.  I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed myself more.  I am looking forward with great joy to many more of the same.”  And then…”I can still close my eyes and feel your lips.”

There were days he only had time for a quick letter…

“Not enough time for a letter but wanted you to know I’m thinking of you and missing you more than I would an arm!”

There’s cute flirting too about who owes whom a letter, him questioning her why she doesn’t think she’s beautiful.  I love reading she doesn’t know how to cook, to which he told her that he would marry her after she learned… this never changed by the way, because my grandfather was always the cook.  

Apparently she had the same worries with “the rules” that I am working on. Remembering it was a 40 year marriage, who can argue that within just after two weekends together, he replies with this:

“It isn’t how long one has known someone or how many dates they’ve had together-it’s the way one feels in his or her heart.  To me, it was a perfectly natural thing to do-I’d have felt badly if I hadn’t kissed you.  ‘TO THE PURE IN HEART, ALL THINGS ARE PURE.’ And as you said-it was a perfect way to end a perfect evening!  So now you can quit worrying about whether I think you’re a bad girl for kissing me.  My unbiased opinion of you is-I think you’re the sweetest,  most prettiest gal I know and I also think, all joking aside, that I’m in love with you!  So there, too.  I hope you like the idea as much as I do.”

Another time he says “Live your life with your own heart, conscience and sense of humor guiding you and you can’t possibly go wrong.”  Good advice for us all!

There’s times where they talk of how different THIS feels for them, how crazy love feels and not always liking those feelings.  Times sure have changed, but feelings… both fear and love…apparently haven’t.

“I’ve been thinking of you constantly all day long and missing you something fierce!  I miss you all the time but more today than ever before-don’t ask me why for I don’t know.  There’s no reason, that I can think of, why I should miss you so much more today than usual.  But I suppose if one understood all of ones actions and emotions it would be an awfully boring life. ..

“I’ll never hear ‘Peg of my heart’ again without thinking of you and having orange juice in the little place under the Coke weather sign.  That was a wonderful evening-but every single one of them has been wonderful, so that particular one was no exception.  Except for the fact that it gives me a definite memory of every time I hear the song.  But I have so many memories wrapped up in, and around, you.  How I wrote for a date because I had nothing definite to do one weekend-how adorable you were, and are-how perfect our first real date was-how very nice and completely natural our first kiss was-all the hours and kisses and teasing and just being with you that have followed and, please God, will continue to follow-all the little things I might have forgotten, and more that I’m looking forward to with the utmost eagerness.  You see, darling, I kinda love you and I’m kinda wrapped up in you and its all pretty new to me.  I can’t quite understand it all myself. “

These letters are both enlightening, comforting and also a shining beacon of what amazing love can be like.  My grandfather was planning to remain a bachelor and continue enjoying the company of many women until the right one caught his eye and then his heart.  My grandmother was serious and focused when they met… she was working hard and going to school at night to get her GED…she wasn’t waiting around to get married.  Somehow, the right person turned their world upside down, it’s amazing how the events of one day can turn your world upside down.   

My grandfather says it like this… “I’m sometimes forced to believe the moon and starts do play a part in one’s life.  I know most farmers plant according to the sign of the moon-or the most successful ones do.  Also the tides are controlled by the moon.  But my love for you in controlled by the grasp you have on my heart and by no other method!  The world and all in it might be governed by the sun and moon, my I am governed only by you.”

While my grandparents couldn’t  predict when or if love would come, and felt they may have little control over it, they knew it came at a worthy price, as my grandfather explains here:

“One never gets something for nothing.  You might and probably will think that’s pretty cynical but it’s what I truly believe.  I can’t remember getting something for nothing-not even love.  It has cost me more than anything before in my life!  Your love has cost me my heart and I’m still not sure I really like the ride, but my heart means a lot to me.  Of course, I got a real, fine price for it but it’s changing my life and I can’t get use to the idea.”  

Love costs us a lot…sometimes our plans, our rules or sometimes putting someone else’s needs before ours, sometimes it’s just our time or sometimes an extra chore to earn money to buy a gift.   The best sacrifice of all might just be sweet and heartfelt words thoughtfully written down on special paper by young lovers that not only fill their recipients’ heart with joy, but also touch the hearts of people who read them sixty-six years later.   

Embracing "The Power of Vulnerability"

 You know when you see a really good movie or have a really good meal and you want to tell all your friends so they can experience it too?  That is what I am doing today!  The "Power of Vulnerability" is the name of a TED talk I happened upon this morning.  If you aren’t familiar with TED, go spend some time on their website…it’s a bevy of goodness on every topic around from some of the most innovative and insightful folks ever.  This morning I didn’t find any talks that immediately jumped out at me in the new section so I picked “most shared this week” and I saw a talk by Brene Brown that caught my eye.  (The link will be at the bottom of this post.) 

Since Vulnerability is the newest lesson in my life right now and one that I am thinking and writing about as I discipline myself to practice daily, I eagerly clicked play.  I’m honestly utterly speechless, I'm changed and I hope you will be too.  Okay so maybe I'm not completely wordless, but will try to sum up some of the things that spoke to me, although  I hope you will watch it yourself and share your own thoughts. 

Brene is a "shame researcher," and as she studied shame as the fear of disconnection, she realized that the underpinning was excruciating vulnerability.  In order to have connection we must be seen.  

I actually remember reading a book about vulnerability early into my marriage and I thought, no way, ain’t happening, because I equated vulnerability with weakness.  I was never purposefully vulnerable with my husband because I never felt he could be trusted with it, or strong enough for it.  We went through some life challenges that few couples have to face and despite this, my most raw moments of vulnerability and pain happened, not with my him or even a family member, it happened with a friend.  I guess my ego was too big because I never believed that those I had some emotionally responsibility for, like my mom and husband, could handle the depth of my emotion.  I’m embarrassed to say that now…that if I fell apart they would, too, but it is what I thought and I never gave them the opportunity to prove otherwise.  So over the years, I actually got really quite proficient at talking about my life in facts but not in emotions, where they felt I was being very open but I was still only comfortable with my own outside view.  It’s something I am not proud of but it is because I found the risk of vulnerability excruciating.

Dr Brown looked at people who had a strong sense of love and belonging and were worthy of it.  She found them to be wholehearted and they had three commonalities:  

Courage…to be imperfect

Compassion…to be kind to themselves first and then to others

Connection…as a result of authenticity.  

They were willing to let go of the idea of who people thought they should be and fully embraced vulnerability as willingness to do something with no guarantees, investing themselves without any promise of a return.  She found that this was fundamental for them.

Figuring this out caused her to have her own spiritual awakening which is aptly how I would describe where I am right now.  Vulnerability is the core of shame, fear and worth, but it is ALSO the BIRTHPLACE of creativity, belonging, love and joy.  To be vulnerable is to surrender and walk into it without pushing back.  Pushing back is always what I’ve done before.  I could easily relay details and lists of experiences while simultaneously crossing my fingers in hopes that no one would ask me about my emotions, because that would require me to acknowledge what likely, only I, would see as a failure or weakness. 

She points out that our society teaches us to numb our vulnerability…in fact its often encouraged…we are told to have a bottle of wine, eat a vat of ice cream, buy yourself something extravagant, take medication to make you sleep or forget.  But the problem she points out and I’ve never thought of it before but it’s so, so true… we can’t selectively numb pain.  We can’t choose to numb our pain over loss, disappointment, anger without numbing the joy, goodness and love in our life too…and what happens when we come back to feeling again?  Start the numbing process all over or face the good and the bad? 

Another way we cope is something I’ve talked about quite a bit…building walls by living by rules.  She calls it “making the uncertain certain.”  We also perfect everything we can and we pretend that what we do doesn’t impact others. 

I don’t have the stomach for perfectionism but I know for me, I spent my life trying to live by a certain list of rules, not just those of a certain religious belief system, but also to be society’s version of a “good person.”  I thought these rules would keep me safe.  I thought I would have the life I wanted if I chose to follow them.  I thought that I could control all variables if I just looked up the coordinating rule to follow.  I was wrong…dead wrong.  In fact, I think part of me died living by all of that structure and only in my own awakening and the fullness of all the freedom I can handle at this point have I begun to feel alive again.    

Dr Brown explains how we can be vulnerable:

To let ourselves be deeply seen

To love with our whole heart without guarantee

To practice gratitude and joy within each moment 

To believe we are enough

In another TED talk she did on Shame, which I will also include below, she says “Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.”  It’s the measurement by which I want to live from now on.  I want to be fully alive, fully aware and fully awakened even when it gives no guarantee that the things I want most will be awarded me.  I know it’s a risk and I know I’ve lived most of life trying to only take calculated ones, but I just happen to think people are worth the risk.  I happen to think I’m worth it too.  

Power of Vulnerability  http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

Listening to Shame  http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame.html

Brene Brown's Website (and books I'm going to start reading today!)  http://brenebrown.com/books/

Joy in the Imperfect

Sunday mornings are my favorite time of the week.  I look forward to them…drinking coffee, not having anywhere I feel I need to be, giving myself grace from any responsibilities and just ‘being’.  If fairy godmothers existed and one was granting me a wish, it would be that someone was sitting beside me on that quiet morning, drinking coffee and completely content to be “doing nothing” as long as we were doing it together.  If only I could find a magic wand.

Do you ever wake up and feel unsettled?  Not for any particular reason but there’s this stirring deep within that you can’t quite shake, can’t quite explain, yet you know that it’s likely the result of change.  For me it’s usually not a blatant change I can see, as in something exterior, situational or easily explained.  No it’s usually just another piece of something falling off of me…making me more vulnerable, more exposed and a little more aware of my theoretical surroundings. 

I will admit that perhaps I didn’t do myself any favors by watching “Under the Tuscan Sun” and “Eat, Pray, Love” today.  I had seen both of those movies before.  Why they happened to be on the same morning when I was already feeling unsettled may have been a blessing or a curse, hard to say.  I don’t remember much about seeing them the first time and I know they didn’t have much of an impact on me.  Of course I got the message that we should figure out who we are, follow our dreams and so on, but both main characters are recently divorced and I last viewed them through the lens of a married woman.   It was an entirely different 

experience today.

I remember about a month after my husband and I split up, I was at a restaurant with a friend and I smiled at something she said.  She looked at me strangely, not because my smile was misplaced in regards to her comment, but because I realized she probably hadn’t seen me smile quite like that before.  I said to her “I think I’ve forgotten how to smile!” I explained that while married I didn’t feel particularly happy except in regards to my kids, nor did I let myself know that I was terribly unhappy.  You see, I’m not an emotional person in the way so many women are and I envy that…I am more of an analyst…feelings have to make sense to me for me to understand what I feel.  So for me to admit to myself that I was unhappy and acknowledge that I hadn’t smiled in ages, meant that I had to come face to face with the reasons why.  I’m also a problem-solver so if I started making a long list of problems, it would require some action on my part.  In this particular case, many of the problems were not things I could fix myself so it was easier just to not smile and not frown but to just keep on making it ‘work’ and I use that term loosely.

Both of the heroines of the movies I watched today had one simple luxury that many divorced women do not have while trying to redefine their lives…they didn’t have children.  I’m not regretful that I have mine, but the world has handed single mothers a raw deal.   Society makes us feel that we have the weight of the world on our shoulders, need to devote all of our time to making sure our kids are not eternally damaged because we broke up the family.  Also, we become some terrible cliche and finding love again will not only be more difficult, it will need to be put on the back burner for an insufferable amount of time.  So for most newly divorced mothers trying to raise children with or without much help, generally living their lives by default rather than pure choice, having a hand in redesigning it seems like a very nice idea, but not something we should aspire to ourselves, that’s for the movies.

I purposely decided not to date at first, even though the attachment to my husband was long, long gone before he was, I just needed to feel I knew what I was doing moment to moment, day to day and week to week before I thought of much else.   There were many times, that given the particulars of my children, the limited involvement of my ex-husband and other factors that I felt it would be very hard to even get a man to consider me, so I hid out in the comfort of that thought for a good while. 

As you know, my introduction to dating (as told in “First date in 20 years”) happened somewhat by accident.  I remember when people saw me after I met the catalyst…they were visibly taken aback by my smile, my confidences, my new outlook on life.   Over time I realized that my kids are getting older, my oldest just has a few years left with me and when they are gone from the nest, I will have to have my own life.   It’s okay to sometimes choose myself over them.  It’s okay to tell them they can’t go xyz because I have plans, something I would have never done before.  It’s good for them to see me happy, to see me redefining who I am, to see me screw up, too. 

While I can’t traipse around the globe, or make all the changes I would make in an ideal situation, or even command love to come my way, I CAN make my own life in the midst of living it.  I can buy myself something nice just because I want it.  I can make mistakes in friendship, dating and money.  I can redefine my spirituality, always seeking to learn that which I do not know.  I can have my own version of finding myself, still being a mom and hopefully someday, find someone to love again in spite of me.  It’s okay to face my brokenness and my imperfection and not try to hide it away in another country like the heroines did.

As I was texting with someone this morning, talking about brokenness, I said “Maybe it’s only the broken who can give something to others.”  We look at the people who seem to have it all together, we say that is who we want to be like, be with and aspire to, but they’re not perfect.  In fact, they are likely more messed up than the rest of us, they’ve just learned to hide it so well from themselves that they don’t even know it.

I’ve always been more attracted to the broken, the messy, the flawed and the cracked things in life.  In fact, someone was once talking about me to a room full of people and said “Most people would not have attempted what you have taken on.”  In this particular context, he was talking about me embracing the imperfect that most people reject.  Perfection has always made me nervous.  Although I am one of the most open minded people around, the place I am most prejudiced is perfection.  Maybe that makes me a skeptic or a snob.  Perfection can never simply be that to me, because in its flawlessness it becomes undesirable to me.  Perhaps loving imperfection is where I am a risk-taker (which is not a phrase most would use to describe me.)  I’ve never had perfect, or ideal, or a large supply of sunshine.   I’m not comfortable there.  I’m more comfortable with sunshine after the rain, amidst cold or because it makes a rainbow.  I like the vulnerability of those broken places, so I embrace something breaking off of me today, perhaps some sunlight can come in, perhaps it withers, perhaps it makes me more beautiful.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all, and surely I’m not the only one who rejects perfection.

So today, even though there was no one sitting next to me drinking coffee like my heart desires, nor, do I feel more settled than I did when I woke up, it’s okay.   I can be content in my vulnerability, embrace my broken places, keep redesigning my life and find joy in the imperfect. 

The Gift of Vulnerability (continued from Discipline of Vulnerability)

So a couple of nights ago, there was even more intense practice of vulnerability.  True vulnerability is all-encompassing.  You are opening up and welcoming someone into your mind, soul, heart and body… your fears and insecurities don’t suddenly vanish, but you have to purposefully ignore them, this is where the discipline comes in. 

“Staying [mindful] doesn’t preclude the euphoria of an inner tremor when your beloved comes through the door, or the pure joy of spending time together.  It means your excitement exists alongside your fears and vulnerability.”  ~Charlotte Kasl

The discipline also requires you opening up all facets of yourself.  I think many people have constructed a flight of stairs in revealing themselves to others.  If you pass this step, you can move on to the next and if you do okay with that one, then up you go.  Some people are equally cautious about new friends too, but most of us make friends go through a lot less than we do our romantic interests, yet can’t understand why suitors don't get past the first step or two.  I just wanted to be open, to invite Mr Metaphor in, and in him exploring me and my exploring and learning him, I am free to also learn a whole lot more about myself. 

It takes discipline to put aside your lists of expectations, your judgments and find a place of grace, acceptance and kindness.  This grace, acceptance and kindness must both be granted to the other person, and even moreso to yourself…after all, we are our worst critics.  To do this, you need to be able to “fire your reporters,” tell yourself even though it’s scary, it’s worthwhile….and remembers your scars can be beautiful to others. 

One way I am having to discipline myself is when Mr Metaphor is pointing out my beauty, not to instantly give a “yeah, but…” or rolling my eyes, etc.  It’s like when your friend compliments your newly decorated living room and you say “thank you, but” then start pointing out flaws, like the spot where they paint isn’t even, the lamp shade that needs a tiny repair, the picture is crooked and so on.  It’s quite possible that the flaws weren’t nearly as noticeable as we thought, or that they even enhanced the beauty…imperfection is always far more beautiful to me.  We need to be conscious and remind ourselves to stop those “yeah, buts” and eye-rolls, respecting our own beautiful imperfections. 

So what about physical vulnerability?  My single gal pals can’t believe I would have sex the first time with someone in daylight, or lots of light or that I would have all of my clothes off at the same time.  Despite being the “size of the average American woman” and having lost a good bit of weight to get here, my imperfections are impossible to hide.  I have plenty of hang-ups about my body.  But I don’t think they are any different than the hang-ups of my friends who are a size 2 or 8.  We all have them, but you know what I think?  I think the men who gaze at us usually don’t notice any of things we do…not even when fully exposed, completely naked, drenched in light where no flaw can hide.   While I have felt pretty comfortable in front of my past lovers, no one has made me more comfortable than Mr. Metaphor.  By asking me to strip away the brakes and open myself up to him, with the promise of no judgment, no expectations nor any limitations on his part, he’s given me this comfort and acceptance to be myself and it’s so freeing.  

The other night, ah, THAT lovely night…we were at his place and after initial pleasantries, exchanging a few kisses and catching up recent happenings, he was soon taking my clothes off and then his.  There were no thoughts of hurrying us to bed, no there is nothing rushed about a leg man, but this was our most intense exercise in physical vulnerability to date.  He is far better at all of this than I, and I love to let him lead with all of his erotic creativity.   We started out sitting on a lovely little couch facing each other, just talking…about us, about sensual things and about all kinds of things, actually.   He just caressed my body, even the parts I hate.  The discipline of eye contact is amazingly arousing… just to stare into each other’s eyes while touching and talking.  If I put my hand anywhere near me, he would tell me to stop covering.  If I put my knees together, he would remind me to be open.  Our body language is so often subconscious even when we have the best of intentions, and I welcome him to call me out on things I do not even realize I am doing.  I was completely vulnerable, so safe, yet in no way exploited or exposed, just completely free to be me in every single way…mind, body and soul.    

He sat against one end of the loveseat and I had my head at the other with my legs draped on his chest and shoulders while he just ran his hands up and down every part, with our eyes locked into each others.  Once I was relaxed and truly vulnerable within myself in every way, it felt amazing and although he thoroughly enjoyed feeling every single part of my body, he was giving me yet another beautiful gift.  This was not just the special gift of himself, but he was also giving me a beautiful gift of finding another part of me.    

 The amazing feeling of our bodies intertwining that followed, the giggles, the smiles, the moans, the pulsing, the collaboration, the giving, the receiving, the taking, the tastes, the fullness of fulfillment were all perfection within themselves, but the true gift, the true gift of what this special man is giving to me is the discipline of vulnerability.  

The Discipline of Vulnerability

About a month ago I decided to go back online on my quest to find someone special. I have to say, I really don’t like online dating sites…I feel too often every profile looks the same. Sure, the individual men look different, bad pictures and all, but when you start reading the profiles there's an obvious and frequent lack of substance. Eventually everyone sounds the same…”I am looking for a girl who can feel comfortable in jeans and ball cap but wear high heels for a night on the town. I love the outdoors and camping and blah and blah and blah.” Most of these guys haven’t been camping since 1987!

I hadn’t been on a dating site since March, but soon enough, my phone was blowing up with messages from the site. However, the authenticity I both offer and desire from a match seemed nowhere to be found. Message after message didn’t have more originality than “Hi” or “Hi Sexy” or “You’re Hot!” Punctuation excluded.  But I happened upon a profile with an intriguing name and was instantly intrigued because this man was actually original, transparent and owned his shit. In fact, he had a long list of his lesser qualities which he just owned up to right in his profile. Most women would instantly be turned off by that…not necessarily because his list of faults were shocking but because how many people really do want someone being real with them when they seem convinced they have to polish up their own image in order to find the right person? I venture to say if you could get daters to give you the unadulterated truth, they would say they are looking for perfection, all the while forgetting how imperfect they are themselves.

"Mr Metaphor" was transparent from the start. In fact, he is also a writer and put a link to his site right in his dating profile…how refreshing! Really, him owning all of his shit right there from the start hit my first button. Being that he was a blog writer and loved to discuss theology without being religious, hit my next buttons. I sent him a message offering him a theological discussion and promising I wasn't a Bible thumper. It’s the only message I initiated. He replied back in short order and we began messaging back and forth that Friday night. By Saturday morning, I gave him my phone number and haven’t been back to the dating site since.

All day and evening on Saturday we texted up a storm…he was engaging, open, challenging and not so quick to get to the topic of sex like most men. Don't get me wrong, There was flirting and some banter, but also such probing questions that we ended up skipping over all the general ones you ask first…in fact, I’m still not sure we’ve covered all of those. Saturday night we talked on the phone for over an hour, (he has a great voice) we both admittedly hate being on the phone, yet still managed to have a good conversation absent of those awkward pregnant pauses I hate. We said goodnight and I was feeling excited but also thinking there was no way I could find someone that I clicked with after only a couple of hours being back on a dating site. He called it "Potentially once-in-a-lifetime."

It just so happened that the next day he was leaving town for 2.5 weeks. Before getting back online, I had been doing some heavy duty coaching with myself that I was not going to get sucked into playing a bunch of games. I was going to try really hard to embrace what came my way by abandoning pretense and also staying true to my number one mantra...that all of my dating experiences, teach me something positive or at the very least, make for good blogging!

So I invited him over. To my apartment. I realized I had a few hours home alone, (which hardly ever happens on a weekend). I never do that. I was motivated to do so because I didn't want to talk for three weeks really like him, only to find out that there was no spark in person. I've been there and done that and am trying hard not to start that tshirt collection.

I had read some of his blog and let him read mine…however, since my blog is all about dating, I sorta gave him a cheat sheet inside my brain. He knew the "first date, first base" rule from reading here. He knew all my little tricks should I suddenly put gum in my mouth or grab my purse. But he asked me something before he arrived and again when he got here. Would I be willing to take off my brakes? I love learning about myself and others…and honestly, I love being pushed just a little out past my limits. Mr Metaphor is very intuitive so I’m sure he surmised this about me.

Plenty of chemistry, connection, passion or whatever you like to call it had been building because I was so attracted to his mind. He walked in the door and he kissed me. Right then…”Hello” and then we shared not a peck, but a deep and telling kiss. Inwardly I was thinking…”well, that’s a new experience!” We sat down, we talked, we found ourselves laying in bed talking, still clothed but slowly, I was throwing off the brakes, er rules, that had so carefully been placed around me in my attempts to hide my fears and keep my heart safe. Somehow, for a reason I can’t possibly explain to even myself, he made me feel safe. He was transparent in so many ways, it was damn sexy to the point of almost being erotic to me...and how freeing to not have to play by rules! He asked me for honesty, transparency, openness, authenticity and yes, vulnerability. I know you are thinking he didn’t have the right to ask me this…he surely hadn’t known me long enough to earn it. But, if I strive to be honest, transparent, open, authentic and vulnerable in every other aspect of my life, why would I treat dating and my attempts at finding someone special any different at all.

A lot of people can’t handle someone as open as me…I’ve even had good friends tell me it was too much for them and pull away. So trying to hide behind “the rules” or the carefully crafted boundaries and safety nets I had been convinced I needed was really betraying my authentic self. While by virtue of time alone, maybe Mr Metaphor man hadn’t "earned" those things, however by his simple invitation to be who I really am, without judgment or expectations, without him gawking at my exposure and exploiting it, he had earned my trust.

I continued to take another journey with him that day as I let him see my nakedness, both figuratively and literally. The lights were on, there was no where to hide really, so I embraced his acceptance and his reminders when I unknowingly started to recoil. As he worshiped my body, as only he could (see "Ode to a Leg man"), and as he enhanced the freedom I so longed for in my heart and soul, I found a release. It was embarking on yet another transformation on this journey of mine. It was a new reality I so desperately longed for and I know few men can embrace a woman with this sort of freedom.

Over a week later we were actually talking about freedom via text…Mr Metaphor was out of town but we were heavy in deep discussion and a thorough mindfuck.  He said that the reason he felt free enough to kiss me the second he saw me in person was because of his own freedom. He went on to explain freedom is a life that is authentic and seeks to benefit others and he did it for me, for us. He’s been very liberating for me. He's so very special. He's a beautiful gift. One that keeps giving because a couple of nights ago, there was more intense discipline of vulnerability....

(to be continued tomorrow)