The Price of Intimacy

The Price of Intimacy

We are all in it together. At the very least, we have being alive in common. At the most we are deeply connected, one spirit at our core, and at best we are lovingly intimate. In general, we are sliding around somewhere on those continua.

As we choose to grow up, our relationships get nicer and nicer. We find ourselves more intimate, closer, with deeper, more meaningful connections. We care more about each other, it is easier to be aware of each other, more thoughtful, kinder.

We find that we can stop ourselves from saying cruel or cutting or demeaning  things. For me, for example, I stopped using sarcasm as a weapon, and found that I didn’t need to engage in angry exchanges like I used to. We find that we prefer clear communication, and spend some effort to ensure it.

For a bit of mindfulness and awareness on my part to treat you with love and respect, I am rewarded like mad. I am supported. When I need help, you help me. When I want comfort, you are there for me. When I need to be heard, you listen. If I need space, you are respectful of that, and never take it personally.

Wow. That’s sure not like the old days.

How am I connected? Why do I enjoy being with you? What makes me glad to see you?

I manage to think twice about how I say things to you. I care about your feelings. When I was little, I didn’t have much sense of you as an individual, you  were more just there to provide for me. Little by little, I began to understand that you were like me, you had feelings about stuff. You cared about things, you had things you didn’t like, you had a past that didn’t have me in it. I might be the center of my universe, but I was not the center of yours.

Why can I see you? What makes me aware of you? Why do I notice?

Back then, I was kind of wedded to drama. Big emotional conflicts, terrifying pronouncements, lots of thoughtless behaviors that got me in trouble, little trouble, big trouble. I put myself in dangerous situations, got involved with people who had as little awareness of me as I had of them. Poor we.

I pretty much have broken up with drama. We have coffee from time to time, but it’s never very satisfying.

I used to wonder what intimacy meant. I thought there was some mysterious, secret thing about it. And so I would go to my special people, the ones I can talk to about anything, really be myself without fear of censure or negative moral judgment, and talk about it. Heh. Wondering what intimacy is when I am right in the middle of it. Cute.

Why do I choose intimacy? What makes me want to be close? How do I share?

When I have people I feel close to, I tell my secrets. It’s like exchanging my secrets for freedom. I like that. And I like being able to tell you anything.

How have I changed from keeping myself locked up to sharing the real me with thee?

(c) Pam Guthrie all rights reserved 02262014

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