The smell of Florian’s neck? My heart melting when he smiles? Knowing that someone knows me? The wonder of Arjun’s nose pressed against my toe? The nose is cool, the breath is warm. Under my feet the tiles are cool. I reached out to touch his soft ears and my heart contracts. Where do I find a metaphor to describe the softness of his ears? The sun gently sliding across a feathery leaf? Or tea in a delicate cup, decorated with roses?
*
*
We fell asleep last night in a grumble. This morning I poked the grumble into a storm. A thunderstorm originating in gale force winds followed by lightening and thunder. No rain.
Disheartened I leave with the dogs. We head out into a beautiful early autumn morning. Blue skies, bright sun, a slight mist in the air from last night’s rain. The first half of my walk I spend carefully dissecting and assigning blame. I turned our conversation this way and that. The more I turn the more my point is affirmed.
*I place my vulnerability and honesty on the table. He aggressively mucks it around. Once it is unfit for consumption he pulls his nose up and turn away in silence.
*
* 
Instead of rushing home and forcing my way to the root of truth, digging into unreceptive soil and bruising and loosing bits of it, I can linger waiting for the rain to soften the earth. Together we can then attentively separate soil from root.
**
* I start thinking of logical ways to uncover his insensitivity and my fearlessness. In the midst of looking up at green seeds decoratively positioned in front of green feathery leaves and smelling the sweet smell of rotting leaves something stirs in my consciousness. What do I want the outcome to be and why? What would be the better outcome? Going home the brave warrior of truth, the unappreciated victim or gently unveiling a new layer of relationship?
*
Instead of rushing home and forcing my way to the root of truth, digging into unreceptive soil and bruising and loosing bits of it, I can linger waiting for the rain to soften the earth. Together we can then attentively separate soil from root.**
8 comments:
Beautiful post. I haven't read much of your blog yet but it seems very poetic to me especially with the gorgeous pictures. I'll be back for sure.
This is exactly my style of dealing with conflict. I am too quick to use words that I later regret and I know this of myself, so I try to get away. Joe, on the other hand, sees my leaving as rejection. It's wonderful that the two of you could agree to talk about it later. That shows a great amount of self-knowledge and understanding. And that is love.
Yeah-I've been there. Sometimes a heated discussion can be healthy because if it is a productive and non-combative one, you can get to the root of your/his truth. And the sweet quietness of understanding after the tears are wiped away or the anger simmers down is reassuring that things will be ok. It's always good to remove one's self from an argument before things get hurtful-I don't do that everytime but I've learned to. Love the pictures and the pup.
hel, this is beautiful. ive missed coming by your place and so glad i was able to today. you peel and lift below the surface of all of us, getting to the core of things in a way i am too afraid to do.
This was beautiful writing...and I could so relate to this moment of wondering what you want to come out of this.
Wonderfully written, very concise, very clear. Wonderful imagry. I come away feeling like I understand what you are saying. That's a preciously rare ability, to write like that.
Love the photo of the leaf, too. Wow, autumn is swinging round in your part of the world, my counterpoint moves into summer. Today was the first shorts day, though it is a jeans evening.
I don't get angry often. I'm quite amiable, maybe to the point where I diminish myself.
Unfortunately, this means my logical side creeps out of the woodwork in a time when people expect emotional, not logical. I analyze, I turn the argument around in my mind, I sidestep the prickly bits of it because I see them coming. I am unaffected, logical and curious, examining the beast, while the other side of the argument froths and emotes.
I find weak spots, I poke holes here and there, I go back with what I discovered, and a wave of unexpected emotion knocks loose my neat stack of reasoning. I flung it at my opponent instead of presenting it. We both explode and dart apart because we are both charged the same, like magnets. One of us has to swing around and present our opposite end so we can come together again.
I have a wicked desire to poke a light cloud into an angry storm, to dig deep and dust off the old cows that serves as proof for my logical deductions. I am hard to handle then, because I can be obstinate and convinced of my own flawlessness.
And that's where love comes in. Love fits over my prickly bits, over the uneven bumps that is my emotional interfaces with the world, and smooths them down. Then somebody else can come, and my love can mold over his unevenness, and that brings us together and hold us close. We may drift and swing around each other, move apart and then contract again. The love holds us close enough to be able to reach out again.
So very wise you are...
You are fabulous. This is my first time to your world, and I am breathless at its beauty.
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