'Why can I not reach her anymore?'. This is the question so many men are asking me lately.
I am seeing a change in men generally these days. Their bewilderment engenders humility. Their hearts are aching to love and to see their partner shine again.
I see this in their faces as they arrive on the first night of the Making Love Retreat, downhearted and confused. Sometimes years of tears ready...
I see it with some women after relationship losses or long periods of being in a relationship.
The pull to be bitter is seductive. If you weaken, you will be sucked into its sticky web.
Don’t do it.
It’s not who you are.
You are love.
And whatever you can do to swim against those waves that want to take you out into that...
'Heartbreak is how we mature. It is as inescapable and inevitable as breathing. Even the longest marriage has it's heartbroken many times, even in the act of just staying together.'
Wise words from one of my favourite contemporary poets, David Whyte.
I see it all the time. A large part of the maturing of a relationship rests on how well we repair from upheavals and disappointments. Some relationships survive it. Others do not.
A wise mentor said to me once, 'A relationship can be for a reason, a season or a lifetime'.
There's an acceleration of consciousness sweeping the planet right now. Can you feel that?
Things that were 'fringe' 30 years ago are now mainstream.
Conversations that were behind closed doors are now open and in the nightly news - abuse, depression, anxiety, sex offenders and narcissistic leaders being called out etc etc.
The world is now wanting authenticity. Not a glossed version of 'I have it all together' - it's about realness.
There's one real conversation that I am glad is being had now too and it's about another change - 'the' change - yes the change women go through anywhere from their late 30's, 40's, 50's. Menopause, peri-menopause.
There's nothing more real than your body changing unexpectedly or even gradually - looking down at it and seeing what once was up is now down!
We live in interesting times ...
I remember the early 90's, sitting in the Lyric Theatre in Brisbane, when the evocative Canadian Celtic singer, Loreena McKennit walked on stage. She had two sets of gigantuan candelabras either side of the stage, topped with huge thick candles, alighting the space with dramatic overtones. She walked in with her long golden hair and sat at her massive sculptural masterpiece of a harp. I felt transported to a heavenly realm and moved to tears by her mesmerising music and haunting vocals, and then... she began to speak.
"Tomorrow is a big day," she said. "The World Wide Web will open. It's the day that is going to change the world." She seemed to know what it would mean.
A reading from Tantric Sex and Menopause.
EMBODIMENT: From Womb Wilderness to Womb Wildness
Many women have little to no awareness of the womb, this miraculous life giving uterus with its capactiy to hold space for an embryo. It is said for it's size, it is pound for pound the strongest muscle in the female body. A small facinating organ tucked up safetly in the pelvis.
As I've grown older and going through the changes as a post-menopausal woman, I can't say that I have escaped body image issues through my years or that I was that artful at not passing this on as a young Mum. I'm sad about this. Yet it's so common. Even with the best of intentions, somehow our children absorb it, if not from the overculture around us.
Last week it was my father's birthday. He would have been 91. It reminded me of the days before he passed in January 2015, when I would sit silently with him.
Watching his closed eyes, seeing him breathe in and out quietly and gently, while stroking his body or holding his hand, my eyes would moisten. I was so moved as I contemplated the pure love of this man I could proudly call my Dad.
When Michelangelo was asked 'How did he create the David?', he said, "The form is already there, I just take away what it is not."
I spent time with my grandchild the other day. I wonder at who she will be in twenty years time. How will life mould her.
She reminds me of how we are born as a pure expression of love and innocence and then as we grow older, we seem to develop ways of hiding away this love, as protection or survival.
I wonder that our purpose is to be the loving sculptor, to remember this love and find ways to allow what isn't love to fall away, to let down our guard, to reveal who we really are.
Resonating with this?
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