Yearning

Today I was listening to a podcast in which Steve Hayter and Ester Zazzaro were interviewed. Steve said something along the lines of women’s native language being the body, and men’s native language being the mind, and how when he managed to relate to Ester in her language, something profound happened.

That stirred a deep feeling in me. I didn’t know it then, but it was my great, big longing being nudged. The longing to meet a man that will relate to me in this way. Not like a great idea to talk about or a label of enlightened relationship to stick to ours, but as a real practice of connecting from our sensation, leaving concepts and analysis behind.

I’ve met men who don’t even know how to do that. Men who are terrified of leaving the realm of the mind, because they have so much pain stored in the body and no IDEA how to hold it (pun intended). Or men who know what I’m talking about and can do it, slightly, sometimes, at a stretch, and then run back to their head to make meaning of what just happened in their bodies. Part of me exasperates.

And then I connect to that yearning in my body. With trepidation, I allow it to be. I feel my body contracting, sense a flow of energy coming up through the contraction, like a scream of pain. As I allow that scream, the vibration shifts, a slight grounding, the scream turns into a roar. The roar seems to open me up, the whole front of my body tingling, the feeling of every cell blooming like a flower ready for the sun’s rays at dawn.

It is scary to yearn so much. I fear it’s going to kill me. And yet, some part of me wonders if this is just life longing for itself, like Gibran says in one of his poems. Can I just become a channel and allow it to flow? This is my practice; not easy, not pleasant, but I suspect the only thing I can do if I am to stop clinging to relationships that end up being unfulfilling. May I be supported in the journey.

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