Intimacy

Yesterday I noted that I'd taken eight* courses within the past year through Landmark Education. I finished the eighth last night--Sex and Intimacy.

The best thing I got out of that class happened during an exercise in which we uncovered what was the most likely future in the area of sex and intimacy if we continued to what we've always done.

The vivid images that came to mind brought me freedom. In one, I was 65 and lived in the "downtown" area of a lazy town or small city. I owned a downstairs storefront, probably a bookstore, and made my home in the large loft above surrounded by books and tons of favorite things. I imagined myself walking over to a window to listen in on a conversation taking place below. My gentleman friend was engaged in a conversation with a passerby or customer. He was friendly, full of energy, vibrant. I knew him to be a doting, caring man.

As I looked below and gazed at him fondly, I thought, "Wow! He's such a nice man. I really like him. He's wonderful to have around...Too bad he's..."

There's always a "too bad...", followed by an exit.

The exercise in class continued, I next saw myself in my late 80's living in a senior community. A new guy. Once again, my thoughts were "He's great. So sweet and giving and kind...Too bad he doesn't..." My exit cue.

Suddenly, there was clarity. I'm like a baker who creates a perfect tiramisu but then gets focused in on how the cocoa didn't fall just right on the plate in some sort of clearly distinguishable and pleasing pattern. "Look at that, there's a wee bit more cocoa on the left and front than on back and right. Almost perfect, though! Almost!"


I realized I was totally OK with it. My likely future was one where I'd keep dismissing great lovers because I found some one or two dissatisfying things about them. Seems odd, but I found that future not-so-bad. There's always someone around for me to find slightly dissatisfying.

And that created a breakthrough for me. When it wasn't so bad to live a lifetime of finding each successive partner slightly dissatisfying, I got over my fear of being stuck with some one dissatisfying person. In other words, since what I'm going to be is dissatisfied with something, since I'm looking for what's not perfect, I can stop letting what's not perfect make any difference or mean anything. In embracing my habit of mind to be dissatisfied, I have the freedom to enjoy what is satisfying.

Joy and Heaven and Love...sweet freedom.


The simplicity of not requiring absolute perfection in order to experience the thrill, the love. Now there's freedom and joy, even fulfillment, in relishing the way there's just a wee more cocoa on the left and front. Sure, I could make another, but then maybe the next has a wee more cocoa on right...or clumps on top. Now that I know that even if the cocoa fell evenly and perfectly on the tiramisu's top and sides, I'd just notice that the marscapone wasn't perfectly lined top to bottom when it was sliced.

Thanks to that exercise, now I get to take a few moments to look the tiramisu over, appreciate the perfect imperfections and dig in to enjoy the delicious taste and texture.

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On my love of Tiramisu...
Almost nine years ago to the day, I'd spent a day on my own hanging out around Jerusalem during a ten day trip through Israel and Egypt. I decided to dine at Italian restaurant called Cielo before whatever it was I did with the rest of the evening. I don't remember what I did after I left Cielo. I don't remember what I ate there or had to drink. All I remember of that night was the Tiramisu. The chef whipped tiny specks of divine chocolate into the marscapone topping. Just as one of these tiny flakes of chocolate would register and my mouth began to savor it, it'd be gone. And then another would do the same. Like a perfectly choreographed interpretive dance created for the tongue's delight. The recollection makes my eyes widen and mouth water. Many physical sensations come up with that memory!

Yeaaaaaaah. So now relationships are like enjoying the perfect Tiramisu over and over and over again.