Fixing stuff, myself included…
Relationship or Romantic Fool?
I read “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” when I was 13. I felt an instant kinship with, not her ladyship or his lordship, but rather with the gardener. Then the identification with the gardener was predicated on the intensity/passion of his feelings as he gazes up at the manor house in the darkness. What fascinates me about the gardener today is his alarm over the loss of his aloneness.
I didn’t have a comfort zone with aloneness until I was about 40; prior to that I was obsessed with seeking passion, be it in the arms of a lover or in the very search itself for love/relationship. Today it is very difficult for me to find a balance between intimacy and independence and between passion and practicality. Is there a relationship here, or is this merely a discourse on inadequacy? If it’s a discourse on inadequacy is it mine alone or do you share some of the responsibility?
Responsibility requires only that I be responsible for what I bring to the table. So what other mischief do I have in my carryon? The same year I read “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”, I read some hardcore porn. AT 13! WHERE DID YOU GET IT? I used to mow the lawn for a couple 2 blocks from my house. I had an electric lawn mower. The man and his wife both worked full time; they gave me a key to their house so that I could plug in the mower (back in the old days ordinary folks didn’t have outdoor outlets). Well, there were a number of books lying about, and being the inquisitive child that I was, I plugged in the mower, sat down in an overstuffed chair and started reading. In hindsight I think they purposely left the books where I would find them. Although they never attempted to communicate with me about anything other than the state of their lawn, every week there would be a new book stacked with the rest in the same place.
But, that was ages ago; how does it effect your life now?
On the one hand you have passion, and on the other you have sex, and infrequently you get to have both at the same time and that’s what we call love. So? Well… for me the nature of love will always be “tied up” with longing (ie the gazing gardener), while the nature of sex is “bound” to confound me by it’s ability to exist in isolation from passion/longing.
So what do you mean by a comfort zone with aloneness?
I mean being able to take great pleasure in being alone; I mean feeling fine without input or approval from anyone else. There is a wonderful sense of freedom in living one’s live without a significant other. Friendships are more meaningful when they’re nurtured in a way that seems impossible when your energy is devoted/focused on a love relationship. Yeah, I know I’m not supposed to be capable of having a complete relationship, but I do manage to get involved now and then nevertheless. Enough already! I seem to have run off all over the place this morning.
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