“But, what good is that?”
We’re currently in the midst of a pandemic. “Normal” isn’t happening. In times like these, I find there to be an “illumination effect” in revealing what lurks in the shadows of everyday distractions. Take away the distractions, the daily routines and “normalcy” – you’ll find things you didn’t see or feel so clearly. Or, at least it was more conveniently overlooked. It’s in this space, I wrote this poem regarding my own intimate relationship and taking its pulse, within me.
“But, what good is that?”
I want to share myself as authentically as I can, being fully who I know I am. – With him.
But, what good is that?
I want adventure! I want to be fully awake and alive; spiritually and emotionally, not just physically! – With him.
But, what good is that?
I want to be challenged and stretched graciously yet persistently, to reach for new heights and new depths! – With him.
But, what good is that?
I want to bust free from this goddamn smothering straight-jacket of “status quo” and “fitting in” for crumbs of superficial validation. – With him.
But, what good is that?
I want us to become who we were divinely created to be, not merely who we’ve been “tamed”, “conditioned”, or “raised” to be. – With him.
But, what good is that?
I want to be wildly free, from this cage of mediocrity. – With him.
But, what good is that?
What my heart and soul long for is closeness, beyond merely physicality. – With him.
But, what good is that?
My pursuit and fight for intimacy is a result of an ongoing experience of a partner who resists intimacy, and me resisting his resistance. This is resulting in regression and degeneration – the opposite of what my heart longs for. – With him.
But, what good is that?
Why, do you keep asking me this? I’m trying to have intimacy!
But, what good is that?
The merry-go-round of resistance keeps me from what I’ve been terrified of – acceptance and the grieving through accepting what is. There is shame wrapped up in the grief. This is my inner work of healing, which I’ve been unconsciously avoiding because it’s so damn painful and uncomfortable. We are apart, together. And together, apart.
Go in peace my dear child, grieve. – With me.