Intimacy VII Draft #4

June 19, 2022

I surrendered, maybe — to the idea of “not knowing,” to the unknown, him and me. But then it got ugly. Apparently it gets darker before dawn, and it did, the day before we were meant to leave to his happy place Sun Valley. Mine too, mountains at least, summer time. But I’d never been to Idaho, and I had no expectation that it would be so divine: clean, clear air, sunshine. The old soul of the high west always gets me, the landscape shaped by nature, the lineage and ancestry. I love to hike, yoga, climb, bike. But we were struggling, as shared, before leaving, and so he booked his trip last minute, and me mine, which always annoys me particularly when traveling to small airports, more money. But that’s a symptom of not knowing, with one foot in and one out you can’t really plan things. And for the past nine months or so, I was more so planning our demise subconsciously, my exit strategy. If I didn’t commit, how could we plan a trip, “well, if we’re together still …” - emphasis on IF. That’s not living.

So he booked and I followed his lead, with plans to depart early and return to focus on the course I’m taking. I’m committed to learning Andean Shamanism and energy healing taught by my mentor — to potentially serve the medicine I’ve been served in my journey. The morning before we headed west we had coffee talk in the kitchen and I said, “Show me a picture of your ex girlfriend,” flippantly. “Why?” He questioned, and I replied, “You dated her for three years just before me but you never say much and I’m just wondering.” He gave me his phone and I got lost scrolling his life living in Kenya before meeting me. There she was, blonde, pretty — my grounded nature became wobbly, the emotion deeper than jealousy. My energy shifted, angry inner child appearing as I began further examining, “Do you see your wife when you see me?  I asked him forcefully, “I’m just worried, what are we doing — if we don’t know, if you don’t … or if I don’t see you as my husband…” All the pressure surmounting … and I excused myself to leave, to move myself physically, out of my thoughts, and back into my body.

The rest of the day felt anxious to me, I had trouble grounding, so I resorted to running the lake and staying in motion while working only to return home later to him mounting artwork we’d previously discussed as no-no’s in the master bedroom. His ignorance of my request further poked at my internal unrest, and so I reacted wildly, annoyed that he ignored me. When we argue, our patterns repeat: I’m a fighter — I attack and he avoids. He triggered my inner warrior, ready to pounce, and also reacted predictably. He turned his back avoiding, giggling, anti-confrontation which further angers me. Little me couldn’t hold his energy, so I ran in front of him and stopped him physically. Suffice it to say, this whole bit was silly. To add insult to injury I erupted, “we should just break up, you don’t even listen to me” over him hanging some paintings. “Olivia, I just put them up to see … “ We were both wrong naturally. I left the apartment hastily. (And writing this I feel like a completely irrational brat)

I checked in for back up, as I do often and thankfully my mentor receives my fear and helps me reinterpret my feelings — out of reaction and past conditioning and back into my presence + rationality.

CA: “I think the Boo thing is a good reality check for the ego! The ego can get to thinking it’s better than the other person instead of different… and then when we see, oh wow, maybe I am replaceable it brings us back into humility…? There is a base fear in there Olivia. Imagine that you are not seen by the external world. What primal fear comes up? Dig in. It’s deep and it’s primal. What happens if you are young and dependent… and not seen…?”

ME: “I the one thing that i can come up with is that i disappear. i don't live my purpose. I'm always searching “

CA: “What happens if you disappear? Think of it from a little kids perspective.”

ME: “Death. I die.”

CA: “That’s a primal fear that provokes urgency… Not seen=not provided for… try it on… what does your body say?”

ME: “fear. abandonment. someone choosing someone else instead of me. even him bringing up looking at other women, or me having really fearful thoughts that he is / was cheating on me in a dream last night. ... theres a deep mistrust in me. deep fear of not being chosen. deep fear of insecurity, inadequacy, being small… We just had an argument a few hours ago, he was ignoring me // or not listening. and turned his back, whistling. and I have to scream to be heard, because he (a man who’s bigger than me) steam rolls me…

CA: “When you react it becomes all about you… how fucked up you are, emotional, all your self judgment, all his judgment etc. and the real information about the interaction is lost. Your reacting allows him to not have to be accountable, because your reaction takes center stage…then it becomes all about you and your reaction… instead of the underlying problems.”

Note to self: Olivia, stop reacting!

The next day I realized why a pic of his ex-chick felt so heavy: she was a spitting image of the woman my ex boyfriend cheated and then left me for years prior. Her face, or the memory, really triggered me. And seeing him with another lady just made me uneasy: I’d never thought about him with someone else before, my ego felt that kick. But boxing always makes me feel better: after a session with my trainer, I returned back into my body, and texted him apologizing.

ME: I’m sorry. It really upsets me when you don’t listen to me. The photo made me sad, like I don’t really know you. Like you two fit together and made me question if we do. And I’m trying to create friction because calm and connection feel less comfortable and I'm sorry. And I don’t like the photos you hanged, and I also don’t actually care about the photos at all.

BOO: I know it’s not about the photos. But I would love to tell you how much those photos mean to me. You said you love love. Do you? I love love. So let’s be in love. Let’s try easy. Let’s make our home beautiful, filled with art, flowers, love, and all the things we want it to be filled with.Let’s go find some art together. Let’s find something that’s ours. But don’t fight me, and don’t push me, and don’t threaten to break up with me over me trying to make our home more beautiful. That’s silly.

Yes, it was very silly. And it also was me reacting to being ignored, not being seen. Sometimes I really revert to that angry little girl in me. Goal: Stop reacting! Let it be. … I received his feelings, and he received mine. We both want love and also less volatility. If I want stability, I have to channel the stable in me. We packed and headed to the airport, excited to adventure together out of our apartment, a space that leaves us both feeling stuck in a tall tower in the middle of a big city, a space that has been so triggering. Arrived exhausted but woke surrounded by nature, to birds chirping, green, the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen. Clear space, expansive energy, quiet where I was able to hear my thoughts clearly, feel my feelings, deep breathing, just being. We grabbed coffee at the most beautiful Starbucks’ I’ve seen, attached to the visitors center to which my boo commented jokingly, “If I lose you …” I replied, “I’ll just come to the lost & found.” Sun Valley is too small to get lost, but directions exhaust me, which is probably why I fly by the seat of my pants, creating my way through everything.

Excuses aside, we both take responsibility in a lack of commitment on both sides: as I uprooted and unworked remnants of the shadow parts of me, in tandem with his own journey … Since meeting me, he’s gone through his own uncovering, growth, healing — parallel souls swimming upstream, but we’ve held each other through it all, even if sometimes he gets frustrated by my coaching.

I embraced him in the grass, puzzle pieces reconnecting. Grounded, and for the first time in a while, I told him how much he means to me…“I haven’t yet admitted how much you mean to me, because I have this primal fear, that I could lose you, that you could leave me — by acknowledging my love, it also means admitting that I could lose that love — and loss scares me. So I’ve been one foot out because if I’m not in — I can’t lose.”

He heard and held me.

“….And because I always thought I’d find a cowboy. And/or a mountain man. And you — you’re neither.”
We laughed hysterically. He’s both, actually. I got what I asked for, Ted Lasso minus the mustache (which he grew back in Idaho)— a mountain loving romantic who grabs me in the kitchen and often urges me to stop chopping and start dancing. A cowboy who’s old soul meets mine, my valentine, who when I’m with and surrendered, there is no such thing as time.

I love him deeply.

And still sometimes get lost in fear that we’re on different timelines. Relationships are funny. They are mirrors into our soul — our partners reflect our best and worst, self love and insecurities. Yet after a week in nature with my love and I had a renewed sense of everything. Realizing yet again, that I have zero control of what the future might bring so why they hell is there any purpose in trying to control anything? — that is the Buddha in me, not-attaching to outcome, releasing. His earthy Taurus energy feels safe to me, as he holds my hand, or sleeps next to me. My pheromones love the smell of his, our hands, our bodies connect tightly, so closely that there are moments when the space between us feels too far between — like its not clear where he ends and I begin … we don’t want space between. He is me and I am him. Two hearts. Interconnected. Two people so different yet so connected. Energy.

Two days in and we found a sentience of routine, I push him to work out by being committed to me. His body, his choice, but he likes to join me, claims that he’d sweat “70%” of the time if it wasn’t for me. We sauntered into the Ketchum, Idaho YMCA gleefully, made jokes with the front desk lady, and headed upstairs to join the baby boomers on the weights. I made myself comfy on the stair master climbing. I’m more class taker than gym goer but if you leave me in a room of toys I will occupy myself indefinitely. My boo made it clear that he was done earlier than me, texting me sporadically, so after YMCA day one, I left my phone in the car purposely. If all else failed, he’d just find me at the Lost & Found.

I saw him resting between reps, playing backgammon on his phone, and for a moment the fighter in me wanted to push him further, as I do, me and in my box + flow teaching, and while life coaching.  My biggest muscle is resiliency, which is why I train both my mind and body so efficiently. Without which, I’d not be here today, my PTSD would have most definitely ended me. But I’ve taught myself to be resilient indefinitely, as my greatest fan and worst enemy — in box + flow class, there are no breaks, because life hasn’t served me any. And that’s how we learn no matter the challenge, we flow thru the fight and keep going.I saw him pause and wanted to push him as I push me, momentarily caught myself labelling him as lazy, instead of finding compassion for his journey. As my mentor says, judgement creates barriers, compassion builds bridges. I choose the latter, mostly … but that decision sometimes comes with a bit of finesse after some self inquiry. We are all works in progress … forever learning…

We coffee talked and long walked through the week, exploring, cooking, eating, hiking — with some work in between. He’s more impulsive than me, likes to keep moving. But I slow him down or speed him up if needed, but more often I make him sit with me instead of racing to the next activity, filling time and space unconsciously instead of being mindful in our words and activities. A pause before moving is a powerful thing… as is listening, pausing before responding while the other one speaks.Mid week after I climbed Kilimanjaro on the Stair Master one morning, he insisted on a long hike and I took one for the team. At some point climbing, I invited him to just sit on the earth with me, as leaves covered his face he looked at me joking, playing hide and go seek. Our silly games were interrupted by his phone ringing. 20 minutes he told me, but I didn’t care, I like being alone in nature to feel all of pachamama’s energy. His legal verbiage did however disturb my peace, so I let him keep walking far enough ahead so I could hear the birds chirping. When left unattended I tend to do my own thing, had enough climbing and eventually took a straight shot down to the bottom. He figured it out eventually, and followed me until he finished his call and we took another seat, mountain side, laughing in each others arms, staring out into this idyllic scenery, “We have everything we need —“ Him, me, fresh air to breathe, forgetting about the insignificant little things we fight about sporadically, like when he leaves the kitchen messy, or huffle puffs on the peloton while I’m meditating or writing.

Back on the stair master later that week, the YMCA crowd got a kick out of me, clad in bike shorts and layers of long sleeves, a sweatshirt and my Moncler puffy jacket for skiing — but in my defense it was 40ish degrees, outside at least. Listening to Mayim Bialik’s interviewing author of "The Work,” Byron Katie, climbing, she asked, “Who are you without your story?” Gosh, what a question, that I’d not yet contemplated, until that moment actually. For the past year or so I’ve been moving through the trauma that first prisoned me subconsciously, silenced me, then defined me. But that question, on the stair master stopped me in my tracks momentarily … until I realized that under my puffy jacket I was wearing my answers clearly:  A t-shirt with LivYoung (and a double entendre to LoveYourself), inscribed in the front and on the back in huge letters, Start Feeling, under a long sleeve with “One Love” on the sleeve, and a sweatshirt reading “Mas Amour Por Favor” sewn in clearly. My answer I realized, is LOVE, simply. Void of all the “shit that’s happened to me,” all the stories I’ve held onto that have kept me in victim mentality, all the definitions of self used to define me, I AM LOVE, born that way, am that way, I am love, loving, lovely. With clarity, I dismounted the mountain I was climbing …

We saw Jurassic Park at the mom & pop theatre, had dinner at the neighborhood Pioneer Saloon, laughed over Idaho potatoes and pristine $11 martini’s. We went wine tasting at newly opened Scout Wine & Cheese in the center of town, ate warm salty olives with a crisp pet nat to wash it all down. We grocery shopped and played house, made dinner, ate out. We quickly picked favorites and became repeat offenders, had lunch everyday at Nourish Me Cafe, soup of the day and their fresh baked bread with butter. Dinner was at favorite Covey. The food was divine — the crispiest yet tender octopus I’ve tasted with fried potatoes and tomatoes, trumpet mushrooms with cauliflower puree, chicken thigh with Alabama barbecue sauce and shucked corn, and seared trout with curried farro. I checked out the yoga studio and we shopped briefly, made friends with locals, asked questions and were received warmly. Everyone smiles back in Sun Valley.

We spent most of our time outdoors, and celebrated our 10th moon-iversary. The full moon was so bright that night we couldn’t sleep. But the view was worth it, spatially, it was a very welcome break from Texas’ 104 degrees. Sure there was a bit of silly fighting — more so him reacting to me. I love photos, they’re memories. And I try to capture everything, for my family mostly. I want them to see, taste, feel what I’m experiencing. My boo is sensitive to me being on my phone more than listening, ironic, don’t you think. He is also sensitive to the amusement I find in the grocery store, frequently — where I’m also less inclined to rush and more prefer “experiencing,” “I think consumer packaged goods are art,” I told him honestly. He prefers to enter with a mission and leave.

Our third tiff was my response to his overt masculinity. YMCA round three, after pumping iron and rock climbing, a teenage boy asked to use the bench where he was lifting. He responded in his ego, feathers flapping instead of just using compassion. I get upset when I see the little boy in him, which triggers the little girl in me. I see compassion in everything, usually, and I have a deep fear of raising children and projecting my unhealed wounding - similar with my partner, I want us to work out our knots so that our kids don’t get what we were lacking. His bravado felt like bullying. Love is my desired language: more bridges, less boundaries. I’m learning … This occurred the night before I left and we both didn’t sleep, less so about the YMCA and both more sad that I was leaving…

Before heading to the airport we rode bikes fifteen miles leisurely. Daily sweat is non negotiable for me, particularly on a day of traveling. “I wish we’d done this everyday.” I agreed, but mocked him still, “I didn’t know you liked bikes that actually go somewhere, Mr. HufflePuffle Peloton…”  Sometimes he thinks I’m funny.

He was extra quiet to drop me off, avoiding feelings. And I was overcompensating because I was extra feeling, anticipating the upcoming separation of him and me. I crave home and grounding — my own space, not living out of a suitcase, my kitchen, my things, less temporary. He offered to turn around more than sporadically. Resiliently, I asked when we arrived, “Will you park and walk me in?”  “Of course,” he replied. Sun Valley airport has no line at security. We hugged and said goodbye, our bodies locking. It felt like camp visiting day and my parents were leaving. And I realized for the first time that home is no longer with my family, home is with him. Leaving him felt like leaving a part of me. I’ve never felt the depth of that love. I’ve never loved to this degree. We parted, and I walked to the gate after grabbing a pack of sugarless gum to chew away my anxiety. I sat and called my mom to check in briefly … she was playing with my baby niece…which further impressed my desire to build a family, a desire manifesting naturally. Realizing that my love of self is reflecting in him and his in me. I’m not late, just right on time, in my own timeline, and I have everything I need.

The end. The Beginning…
… and then we returned back home to Austin…
To be continued.

**a guide to Sun Valley, coming. Love Always, Olivia