Today I am called forth by the pull of the winter’s tides to inhabit the warmth we fully embodied together. To dip my toes inside the steaming, sudsing water of us. Here, inside the bubbles, the fact breathes — shifting and contracting, in an entity of its own. That no matter what happened between us, we were committed to growing, expanding and evolving through it together. That in old age, no matter what my mirror reflected, he would still love me. Fuck. Where once water rushed a wild river, the water drips like a faucet left on… but the image remains strong and intact.
He was a true man of mysticism, of magic and earthly delight. His mere existence propelled me to better understand my own; my actions, my mind, my potential for unwavering compassion, commitment, ascension. It compels me today to live in the most authentic way. It challenges me to question my motives and understand my self-derived meanings of them, one piece of broken sea glass at a time. To live alone, unencumbered and with myself, until I have come to fathom my demons and my desires. What a powerful force this is.
I remember so well, now, the ways he watched me. This was my favourite. The theory of mind he possessed. How this simple act of love, of curiosity for my nature, filled me up inside. He took this with him and poured it into me, wherever we travelled together, making me feel full like the ocean inside a teacup.
I felt weak the day I fully absorbed the news that he was no longer in love with me — and confused that I hadn’t already processed this affliction. It was understandable, that he assumed a trajectory void of any essence of my own and that geographic barriers of endless ocean would inevitably create a wellspring of space between our once coalesced, celestial bodies.
But this isn’t what I am writing about today. I am writing about the image stained on the coloured glass of my psyche, like the crimson-fusion hue of the first time you fell in love. I am writing about what enabled us to exist, to dream and to make love together in this pure, alchemic way. And the image remains strong and intact. Intentionally so, I place these pieces of broken glass back together again.
In actualizing the emotions associated with this real loss, rather than a perceived one, I realize how this relationship was a transformative experience for me. It changed the ways through which I exist in this world. The ways I experience being myself. And, I am no guru, no doctor of love — but I do think think these teachings and these fruits might just be able to transform you.
How were we able to connect in such a real way, in what some would call a more technologically-invested, disconnected age? Well, I say we are also in an era with a growing desire for deep connection — and conscious relationships are filling this void. New-age sapiosexuals — those who find intelligence sexy — are abundant! There is an emphasis more than ever before on mindfulness practices and meditations on authentic relating. There is truth in the ability of these practices to illuminate the way you experience intimacy! That’s right. More saturated colours, exceedingly dilated pupils, and an overall greater awareness and thus appreciation for your partner’s essential essence, idiosyncrasies and all. Here are three ways you can work to cultivate this.
The importance of transparency in intimacy cannot be understated. I like to say, it’s never just one human and another holding hands — there is always so much more. To honour this, it is important to articulate at the onset of a partnership that you are a human and you come in many different forms. You experience a spectrum of rich emotion (thank goodness!) and there needs to be a safe space in this union for you to express who you are. No expectation or facades.
Mindfulness practices cultivate attention. Having complete and nonjudgmental awareness of whatever task is at hand — or human that is in front of you — extends to every element of our experience. Noticing the curvature of his lips when he lifts his eyebrows slightly upon inquiry: “How you going, sparkly pants?” Seeing this. Appreciating this.
Seeing inside. I mentioned that in old age, no matter what my mirrored reflection, he would still love me. This is because he saw beyond my human vessel. He saw the ‘little person’ inside of me. Though this level of connection is unquantifiable and unique to each experiencer, so much of our lives are rooted in this level of phenomenological experience — and it begs for our attention. Eye gazing is an excellent intimacy practice here! Plus, it results frequently in very close proximity.
As a result of adopting these perspectives, life with your partner may come to feel more alive. It is like a living, breathing experience, which ebbs and flows in accord with your authentic expressions within this delicate union of bi-directionality. Downstream from your tide pool of love awaits a more rich and fulfilling ocean, if you continue to show up with the rawness of your honest self. And this is what makes sex exuberant!
You see, I am not bitter. I have an eternal and endless resolve of gratitude for every ounce of our experience together. He was the greatest truth I have ever witnessed. The greatest teacher I have ever known. And I understand why we saw each other so clearly: we saw beyond. I continue to integrate and pour into practice all the lessons we learned together. Consciously, and intentionally, I walk forward in love. And other people don’t have to understand.