The Art of Intimacy

“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.”

Thomas Merton

Intro

Eros invites us to live in connected solitude, where we sit inside of the spaciousness of our interior world, in a sustained connection with the external world. In this scenario, when we are away from a person, we bring them with us — in our thoughts, in memory, in energetic connection, in a deliberate communication that space and time do not separate, and they are here. When we are with them, immersed in the deep space of ourselves, and with this, the infinite — we can be in rooms of deep intimacy with them with silence or activity, without either person losing their sense of self.

This state of being alone together leads to a deliberate connection that we cultivate and carry with us wherever we go, keeping the relationship alive, active, and receptive even when we are apart.

Reading – Relationship as Art

In relationships we must practice active and deliberate connection, in big and small ways, in order to not get stuck in the tumescent gap and to live our relationships at the level of art. The tumescent gap in a relationship will present in various ways: a subtle insecurity that seeks for proof of connection; a felt sense of resistance to coming back together; a low-grade fear of abandonment or betrayal; a subtle introduction of irritation and blocking; an internal pull or grip for the other person; an unspoken but energetic demand; a checking out; neglect or ignoring; a complaint that cannot be appeased.

Our primary trained tendency in the face of these behaviors, both overt and covert, is avoidance, withdrawal, blame, or fixing. To be stuck in the tumescent gap is to have the initial tumescent behaviors arise, to have them met by the opposite response, and for these to continue in a circular motion ad infinitum. This occurs because the pendulum of activity or stillness now translates into, in relation to another person, enmeshment or solitude. That swinging back and forth on the pendulum — either too full with enmeshment or too empty with solitude — ends up consuming most of our resources.

Eros invites us to live in connected solitude, where we sit inside of the spaciousness of our interior world, in a sustained connection with the external world. In this scenario, when we are away from a person, we bring them with us — in our thoughts, in energetic connection, in a deliberate communication that space and time do not separate, and they are here. When we are with them, immersed in the deep space of ourselves, and with this, the infinite — we can be in rooms of deep intimacy with them with silence or activity, without either person losing their sense of self.

We relinquish withholding and open in reception. It just so happens that when we relinquish withholding — holding back our time, expression, affection, enthusiasm, truth — the space of greater reception is a natural byproduct. Fear in relationship is always fear of loss. “I will lose myself,” or “I will lose them.”

Eros invites us to live on the axis; to paradoxically lose both in order to have both. It may require a small leap of faith, but we can feel inside for how true this is. People return to where they are most free. It is not out of generosity, but simple effectiveness that liberation of self and other is what would hold a relationship together. It should be noted, though, that liberation of self and other is intensive and difficult work. This is not an instruction to avoid work in any way. In fact, it is an instruction to drive into the center of the nearly impossible and insurmountable work that true relationship takes.

The work of the tumescent gap relationship, while exhausting, does not require much of us. This kind of relationship can exist for a lifetime on default settings. The work of true relationship requires the endless excavation or resourcefulness, willingness, and curiosity. But the work of relationship — when done right — is so fascinating that as we acquire a value-neutral understanding of our own system thought it, we won’t ever want to stop. Our relationships become a canvas on which to discover the beauty of our interior world interacting with what’s outside of it, and what births in that process.

There are then three levels of relationship. The first is “catch up and prove.” Here we are in a perpetual state of subtle testing or proving ourselves. The energy that would go to relaxing into or creating with instead goes to these two activities.

The second, maintenance. We are committed to working on this relationship. We do the work to see our part, to be thoughtful, to benefit the person we care about, and feel confident in their care. This comes with some, but not much, fear of the unknown. A basic agreement of goodness is set into place, and our relationship is one of sanctuary; a place where you go when life is difficult to find comfort and the security of knowing that at least one person is there for you and cares about you and that you can rely and depend on. The relationship itself is like a spinning top that needs only be touched to be adjusted every now and then. It does not occur as a great deal of work. And the work that it requires feels rewarding.

And third, we agree to live into the mystery of another human being and to permit all access entry into ours as well. There is no territory or behavior that is off limits. We relinquish all rights, and possession, in order to dispense with the notion that something could be lost, which would prevent someone from showing something that arises from their mystery. The primary agreement we make is that at the moment form starts to form, we dissolve it.

Our own desire is to be a vehicle of freedom for each other, a reflection for the other person to witness themselves, see how they operate, know truth, speak unspeakables, face loss, and maintain connection irrespective of perceived rights and desires. The nature of this relationship is to both give and receive everything with the willingness always to surrender in the name of connection itself. We are preemptive, proactive, and anticipatory of any place either we or the other person would either disconnect or attempt to merge, both of which — and in equal proportion — kill relationship. Even if the other person does nothing, we’re agreeing to do all of this that is necessary, because we recognize a deeper truth.

People in bondage will always be an obstacle. Free people will always add to our flow. It is not personal; it is that free people are all answering to one voice: the freedom in Eros. Through intimacy, she calls all free people to be in dynamic movement, moving together in the same direction. That direction being to help to remove the bondage of those who are not yet free on their terms. There simply is nothing else. 

Meditation – The energy of relationship

Get into a comfortable position, either in a chair or seated in a meditation cushion. Set your timer for 20 minutes. Close your eyes and become aware of your breath and the sensations in your body. 

Meditate on a relationship in your life. Feel into the sensation of it, the energy that is there neutrally observing. Notice what emotions arise, what desires, what resistance or aversion. Visualize something you desire with them, it could be that you would like to see them, talk a walk, have a meal, it might be that you want to send them a message, it may be that you are mad with them or just want to send them love. If there is any gripping, see if you can release it. Notice what arises and listen for what wants to be.

At the end of the meditation, slowly bring yourself back into the room. Feel the seat beneath you and the sounds around you. Slowly open your eyes when you are ready. Jot down your insights and how it felt to just observe and not try to fix or change anything in the other person.

Exercise

Think of someone in your life where you have a deep, connected relationship with but are not in the same place. This is someone who you feel with you all the time, and when you are together, it feels as though no time has passed. You are able to find your groove with each other as though you’ve been seeing each other every day. Write about this relationship. How do you keep your relationship alive and evolving even when you don’t see each other for long periods of time? Who are you with this person? What parts of you do they bring out? What about this person makes you feel safe to be you? Pay attention to the quality of connection you feel with this person that keeps the relationship going strong even as you live your own separate lives.

Example

We sat in the living room together. It was late afternoon in summertime and golden sunlight poured through the windows, illuminating the room with a beautiful glow. Her cat prowled around, hiding in her plants and hunting dust motes. She read a book in the corner chair while I worked at the desk. We hadn’t spoken out loud in hours, except perhaps to ask the other if they would like anything from the kitchen, but the energy between us was companionable and warm. I felt infused with a sense of quiet solitude, in which I could hear my own inner voice and have plenty of space for my work; and simultaneously I felt that bright, alive pulse of having a connected experience with another person, where things feel less predictable and more dynamic. The sweet spot. 

True intimacy is when you can sit in the same room, each alone in your thoughts or deeds, and be perfectly together.

Summary

You can be alone and together with someone when you feel deeply in tune with them. There is only flow, and no expectations or conditions, just being and letting things happen as they happen. Can you identify a relationship you have like this? How might you find this same connected solitude with others? Communication is key, and it doesn’t always mean talking all the time, as you will learn next.