Last week, I wrote about the death of a colleague. In addition to grieving, I’m learning a lot about intimacy.
So often when I think about intimacy, it’s in the context of a romantic relationship, but the truth is, intimacy is not confined to a romantic partner. Real intimacy is like unzipping yourself and displaying your insides, and that can be done with anyone, something I’ve witnessed in this process.
As I share the news about my co-worker’s death, people react in different ways. Some people allow me to cry without offering a diversion or attempting to fix it. Other people become discomfited and say a quick, “I’m sorry,” before moving on to another topic. I’m not deriding people for their reactions – people are where they’re at and will respond how they do. What I notice though is in order to share my feelings with someone else, to be intimate with them, I have to acknowledge my feelings first. If I’m uncomfortable feeling sad, there’s no way I can share that with someone else because I’m shutting the feelings down internally. Someone else may be more than willing to share and connect with me, but if I’m not connected to myself, no one else can connect with me either.
As with most things, intimacy is an inside job.
We hear often, “You can’t give what you don’t have,” but I’m a concrete gal and I like examples. As an example, if someone asked me for oranges right now, I’d have to shake my head and say, “Sorry, I don’t have any.” Similarly, I can’t give intimacy if I don’t have it internally.
We think of intimacy and love as “out there,” something to find or force. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve complained about certain men in my life, lamenting that they’re not opening up, as if they were clams I could pry open. I’ve craved intimacy, but it’s only been within recent years I’ve created it internally by embracing all of my emotions. By giving myself space to feel.
Love and intimacy get presented as if we could walk into a store and buy them. We don’t realize intimacy is something we create, something we work on internally. I could be in relationship with the most amazing person, someone who loves intimacy, but if I’m not in touch with my own feelings, if I’m not allowing myself to feel them, we won’t have intimacy. It will be like talking to a brick wall. I say this because that’s also been my experience in grieving. When I share my insides with people who are discomfited, it’s like I threw an egg against a brick wall – my insides are smeared, on display. There’s no reciprocity, only impact. When I share my insides with people who are comfortable with emotion, it’s like I threw an egg at a cloud of cotton – I feel held, comforted, and supported.
Matt Licata, a psychotherapist I follow, synthesizes this concept well:
When all is said and done, perhaps there is no secret to co-creating a fulfilling, supportive, mutually beneficial intimate relationship, as it is always in the end a movement of the unknown. Healthy intimacy is not something you will figure out one day by way of some checklist or magical formula, but something you are asked to live in each moment, in all its chaotic glory. By learning to take care of yourself, you are creating a foundation upon which the mysteries of intimacy can come alive within and around you, providing a crucible like no other for the great work of aliveness that you have come here to embody.
I dream of a world where we embody our emotions. A world where we understand intimacy is not something “out there,” but rather “in here.” A world where we recognize intimacy is not something we find, but rather something we create. A world where we realize intimacy beings with us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Since probably January I’ve been saying “Yes” to life. Am I available to shoot and act in a book trailer? Yes. Can I do some urban beekeeping? Why not! Lead a workshop? Sure! I love saying “yes” to life because it opens me up to so many unusual experiences. Besides the fact I like to be of service. But there comes a point where it’s time to stop saying yes.
Last week during a retreat we were asked to think of a prevalent emotion; mine was overwrought. I felt so worn out, so depleted, and so tired because all I’ve been doing for the past six months is say yes. And because of that my adrenals are worn out, I have a thousand things on my to-do list, and lots of priorities vying for my attention. As I sat in a circle with my fellow yogis, crying silently with my mouth scrunched in an upside-down “u” and my forehead creased, a voice said to me, “You can say no.” I cried even harder because that was the truth. I can say no. I have the permission to turn things down. Usually I don’t want to because I don’t want to miss any opportunities. I like to embrace life because as a child I said “No” a lot and in some ways I guess I’m making up for it. Not only can I say no, I need to say no.
I need to say no because I am only one person and I can spread myself too thin. I need to say no because otherwise I put self-care at the bottom of the list. I need to say no because I get distracted from my goals. There is indeed a power in saying no, which any 2 year old can tell you. Saying no sets boundaries and helps define a person. When a toddler says no it’s their way of asserting their independence of saying, “Hey, I can make decisions for myself.” As an adult, saying no is my way of conserving my energy, of storing it up for what I’m really interested in.
This blogpost may not be so inspiring, but after running myself ragged grabbing a hold of every opportunity, it’s a relief to say no.
I dream of a world where we find balance between saying yes and no. A world where we take care of ourselves while also being open to possibilities. A world where we realize we can say no and it doesn’t make us selfish or self-centered. It means we’re treating ourselves with utmost love and respect.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve heard before I can choose how I feel so I interpreted that to mean I can feel happy all the time. But you know, that’s simply not true. If my dog dies I can’t all of a sudden feel happy. I’m an emotional being with emotional responses so I’m going to feel all of my feelings. It occurred to me today, however, I can change my perspective on a situation. That certainly is a choice.
This weekend has not unfolded AT ALL how I expected: unexpected houseguest! Little to no sleep! Crazy busy! I really thought I was going to spend this weekend sleeping in late and watching Netflix. Walking down the street this morning I started to feel resentment my weekend hasn’t even closely resembled that. What about all my sleep?!? What about all my rest?!? Then I heard an expression ringing in my ears: “Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Aw shucks. Instead of whitewashing my feelings I changed my perspective: perhaps even though it’s not what I wanted, it’s what I needed. I got to be of service this weekend helping out my best friend. We hung out in a way we haven’t for months. Someone else made me dinner and washed my dishes and I got to play with a video camera. I laughed and relaxed and released a whole lot of tension. And I still have tomorrow.
This post probably isn’t very profound, but it just occurred to me my feelings are my feelings: I don’t need to change them or mitigate them or do anything except feel them. My mind though? That is a completely different story. I can absolutely choose to think differently even if I cannot feel differently. I can absolutely see the bright side of everything. I can absolutely believe God is doing for me what I cannot do for myself. I can absolutely aim for a broader perspective. There are things I can change and I choose to change them.
After reflecting on my day, I’m closing it feeling gratitude instead of resentment. I hung out with my bestie! I saw my favorite singer! I watched Kung Fu Panda 2! I filmed chase scenes with my neighbor! These are not horrible things. In fact, these are pretty awesome things. And that’s the beauty of perspective: it makes everything better.
I dream of a world where we change our perspective. A world where we see the bright side of everything. A world where we feel our feelings and change our thoughts. A world where we accept things as they are and change what we can. A world where we live, love and let go.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Where I am today is complete allowance of all that is. Not all of you will understand this blogpost, and that’s ok. It’s written for those of you it resonates with.
A few weeks ago I told my mom it’s a miracle I’m feeling my feelings. She said, “Rebekah, you’re human, so of course you’re feeling your feelings.” No. Not true. I have used everything to escape feeling my emotions – food, television, books, crushes – anything besides feeling them. The fact I’m now feeling my emotions really is a miracle. On Friday night I felt sad and lonely and a little crazy and instead of reaching for something to distract me, I just felt my feelings. I wanted to use affirmations, put a positive spin on all of it, but ultimately I allowed what was.
I am completely allowing myself to feel my feelings: good, bad, and ugly. I am no longer forcing myself to feel better or trying to hide parts of myself for fear others will judge me. Not just my feelings, but all parts of me. On Friday I even *gasp* went to the pool without shaving. It was perhaps the first time I walked into the pool completely unselfconscious. It was perhaps the first time in my life I allowed myself to be who I am in public without fear, without hesitation. Most of the time I’m only my true self when I feel it’s safe to do so: in the comfort of my home, with friends, at spiritual retreats. Friday was the first time it didn’t matter to me if I was being judged.
This all comes at a great time because I finished editing my book and I sent it to a professional copyeditor. I’m freaking out because that means someone else is going to read it! That probably sounds really funny because, um, when you write books you generally want people to read them. And furthermore I blog regularly about my personal life so why the commotion?
The commotion is Just a Girl From Kansas is not my blog. It’s much more personal. People are going to read my journal entries. They’re going to read my most intimate thoughts and feelings. They’re going to experience all the highs and lows I went through when I first moved to California and everything after that. It’s not a light and fluffy account. It’s my real life in its most raw form.
I’m scared because after this there is no more hiding. There is no pretending I’m a “normal” girl with a “perfect” life. All my crazy will be on display and how will people react? Except I’m not sure it matters all that much, because like I wrote a few weeks ago, those that mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind. What it really comes down to is me. Allowing myself to be all that I am, allowing myself to be who I am without limits. Allowing all expressions of myself, allowing all parts of myself to exist and know they’re all ok. No one part is better than the other. Even my unpleasant feelings are acceptable. Even my sometimes-hairy legs are acceptable. I can allow all of it.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to be all that we can be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so. A world where we show up for our lives and let things be what they are. A world where we love ourselves unconditionally, even the parts we don’t necessarily want the world to see. A world where we live in complete allowance knowing self-love is what matters the most.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.