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100 Moments of Intimacy

The following is an expanded version of a blog post I recently wrote for Ecstatic Living Institute, co-founded by my late husband Steve and me in 1999. Most couples come to my coaching because they want to prioritize each other and their relationship. Overwhelmed with everyday responsibilities and obligations, they often feel disconnected from each other, and they have lost touch with what brought them together in the first place. Making time for each other and focusing on the relationship has become a challenge for them rather than a pleasure. Sexual intimacy is rare, if happening at all.

“Life gets in the way”, is a common phrase people use to describe this phenomenon. What life, I wonder? Life is always here; this is it! The circumstances are what gets in the way. Mind you, oftentimes you do not have the actual time to do a long tantric practice or spend hours making love.

Now your mind tells you that really, you should connect with your partner, you should be doing your practice, you should be making love, and if you don’t do it, you have failed. Or everything is your partner’s fault. You get grumpy and do not connect but instead turn away from your partner, so that you don’t have to see the disappointment and disconnection in their eyes; feelings that you probably both share. You give yourself a hard time for not making the time to reach out; for not having enough commitment to spending dedicated time together. A chasm opens up and you see your beloved far away over there on the other side.

I have been coaching my clients in various ways to dissolve this conundrum, and following are a few very simple ideas that many lovers have found useful. Every couple is different, yet we somehow all are the same.

One way is to simply accept that it is so, and to stop fighting with what is. You do not make the time. Period. Your relationship plays fourth or fifth fiddle in the symphony of your life. You are doing everything else but connecting with your partner. So it is. To accept this fact is its own special practice! In my experience, acceptance is often the first step towards change, so you might be surprised what happens when you accept the way things are. The tense internal struggle makes way for the peaceful space of acceptance. Anything is possible then.

Another idea is to encourage the couple to give as many short moments a day as possible to practicing intimacy. A moment of breathing together, of gazing at your partner with loving eyes. Of exchanging compliments. Of melting into a hug that last longer than 30 seconds. Of offering understanding and compassion. Of giving attention to them. Saying a proper goodbye before your beloved goes off somewhere alone, without you: to work, to pick up groceries, to get some fresh air, to clear their mind – yes, even after a fight. Opening your hearts to each other, however brief. Every single moment counts and these short moments add up. Can you be intimate with your partner 100 times a day?

Recently I guided a couple in an online coaching session through an abbreviated version of the Breath of Tantric Love the powerful breathing practice that has become many couples’ favorite. It was morning, right before they went off to work. Witnessing them was very moving – now or never, was the flavor of this moment. They connected deeply very quickly. When the practice was over, they were astonished to learn that just 15 minutes had passed; it had been so effortless to let go of any resistance, to open their hearts, to see the divine it each other, and to melt into the timelessness of their intimate connection. And now, after barely 15 minutes of looking into each other’s eyes, breathing together, embracing each other – their day took on a whole new dimension.

Especially after what I have been through in the past four years it is disheartening for me to see couples drift apart when in truth they want to be close, sharing love and intimacy. Life is so short! Really, this is what motivates me to continue teaching seminars and coaching couples in Tantra: to share what I have learned from the many years of tantric partnership, from being on the spiritual path of Tantra since I was 15 years old, and from having gone through (and re-emerging from) the most traumatic and confronting yet miraculously transformative experiences of my life.

To inspire you, too, to be fully awake to the privilege of being in life together. It is never ever a given! Let’s not forget that.

My question for you is this – if you knew for sure that you were going to die tomorrow, would you be able to make time for your partner today?

“The ordinary idea of time is that it is like a river that is flowing by your side. That which has passed is the past; that which is passing is the present; that which is going to pass is the future – as if time is the flux, a movement, and you are standing and time goes on moving.

But it is not true that you are standing still because once you were a child, now you were young, now you are old, now you are dead. You are not standing still; you are continuously changing. Because of this fact there have been philosophers who propounded a second theory: the time is static, it is always the same, what changes is you. You are the flux: From childhood to youth, from youth to old age, from old age to beyond. Because you cannot conceive your own changing process – it is so subtle and so quick – you project it on time.

Nobody knows what time is, where time is. Nobody has ever seen it. Nobody has ever touched it. Nobody has ever come to grips with time and its existence.”

~Osho, gratefully quoted from Satyam Shivam Sunderam – Truth Godliness Beauty, Discourse #22

 

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Fear & Surrender

Can you believe how time flies! Four years ago today I received the devastating diagnosis of triple negative metaplastic breast cancer. A diagnosis of a rare, aggressive cancer has got to be everyone’s worst or at least near-worst fear. I remember every single moment of that visit to the doctor; I was alone, and totally unprepared for the dreadful news. That I am still here today, in this body, is amazing, given the terrible prognosis.

I do not really think much about the cancer anymore, or the treatment, and the fear is gone. But since the cancer, I find it impossible to look at life as this infinite space of time. Perhaps I won’t be old, and I do not actually know for sure that I will be seeing my friend again next year. Sometimes people are baffled by what they perceive to be my negative attitude to life. It is not negative at all, I assure them, but realistic. One day I will die, and the sooner I understand that, we all truly understand that, the better. Life becomes very interesting, somehow more intense with that understanding. Looking at the Great Dissolution from that viewpoint, I am almost grateful for it!

But really, this post is about fear and surrender.

At the moment I have family visiting from Denmark: my teenage niece and her uncle, who is also a good friend of mine. A zipline canopy tour operates within easy walking distance. Steve and I took many of our Tropical Tantra clients on this tour, but I was always too scared to actually participate. Clinging to a steel cable in the air high above the canopy… stumbling across hanging bridges connecting deep ravines while swinging precariously from side to side… oh no, definitely not my thing!

Anyway, my niece, her uncle and I went for a walk to the tour office. Somehow I really wanted her to do it, together with her uncle. Everybody loves it, I said. People have the best time, I encouraged. But she, clever girl, would only do it if the three of us went together. Oh dear. Trembling with fear, we grudgingly agreed to take the tour the next day, her uncle’s birthday.

There were quite a few times when my knees were literally shaking, and I was frozen with fear standing on a wobbly suspended platform in the crown of a tree high, high above the ground. On the actual rides I saw nothing but the movie in my mind. To get away from there and back home, I had to take the next cable, no two ways about that.

Finally, at long last, came the moment when I completely let go into the experience. There was nowhere to go. I was hanging on the longest and final cable, cable #10, ready to go. And then, swishing through the air, tethered in the harness, loosely holding my gloved hand behind me on the cable, ready to brake. This ride seemed endless, below me nothing but trees, gushing rivers and waterfalls, ahead of me the glorious ocean view and tunnels of tropical plants through which I glided. Fast. Time suddenly became elastic as I surrendered.

I actually felt the surrender, like a huge load falling off my shoulders, off my brain. Every split second was its own frame, its own photograph, like a very slow slow-mo video. Wow. It was so liberating! To fly through the air, feeling completely safe and fully open, and, you know, the truth is that if the cable had broken on that ride, and I would have fallen to my death, well, so be it!

I came away from that experience with the realization that facing my huge fear and then surrendering made me stronger and clearer, and truly ecstatic. Reflecting on it I see that this insight is a major take-away from my entire cancer episode, as well. Facing the fear, then surrendering. Not fighting, but letting go.

Perhaps that is the real reason why I am alive today, despite the poor prognosis.

“I live my life based on two principles.
One, I live as if today was my last day on earth.
Two, I live today as if I am going to live forever.” ~Osho

7/27/19 PS. Ooops, I just realized that when I published this post by mistake I disabled the “allow comments” setting. Probably that’s why there are so few comments…

 

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Loneliness Alone

I wake up. It is quiet outside. My large brown dog is snoring softly next to me on her blanket, on the side of the bed where Steve used to sleep. I get up, open the sliding door and look out over the lushness. It is cloudy. Will it rain or shall I go to the beach? Coco stirs in anticipation and sneezes in excitement. We get into the car.

We drive through the little village. Nobody is around on the streets. I park my car, put Coco on the leash for a moment so she cannot chase the nearby chickens. Then we begin our 8 km walk. We meet noone. Our favorite beach is absolutely empty. Not a single person on the long, long expanse that stretches out in front of me. Just Coco and Lokita, palm trees, sand, ocean and howler monkeys in the distance. Turtle tracks on the moist ground. As we walk, I talk to Coco, encourage her to run, run, run, to go get that thing, that invisible something she likes to chase in the shallow water. I sit down on a log in the shade to get a drink of water, looking up and down the beach. There really is nobody but me.

My friend calls. She asks, ‘Is everything in your life under control?’ I laugh. Control? What a concept. After two hours I get home. Nobody is there. It is like that every day. Nobody here but Coco and me. All alone.

Sometimes it feels like I am living in a mountain cave, on an extended meditation retreat; granted, it is more comfortable than an actual cave but nevertheless. My face-to-face social interactions are far and wide between, and when they do happen, I often wonder if I have become odd. Lokita: The Strange, Lonesome Widow on the Cliff.

Am I lonely? Am I enjoying my being alone? There is certainly a difference between the two.

I admit, I judge myself that I should not feel lonely. To feel lonely is unenlightened and not very spiritual, my mind insists. Loneliness equals neediness, and neediness it bad, it chimes in loudly. To be lonely means that something is missing, it hisses. Companionship. Actual human contact. Being touched. That’s not good, my mind informs me. You should be happy!

Can I accept that I feel lonely at times? Urgh. It is difficult. And then, the questions are nagging from the Valley of Despair: what the f#*& am I doing here? Why am I still alive? Why why why?

Fortunately most of the time I celebrate my aloneness; generally I am happy to be alone. I enjoy my own company. It is a stable space of fulfillment, quiet, being present and acutely sensitized to myself and everything around me. Tending to the vibrant tropical plants in the garden, seeing them thrive makes me feel good. Walking on the beach totally alone. Not having to relate. Being free to do as I like, relaxing into open space of time and activity. Wonderful!

And now, in this somewhat unsettled realm of aloneness and loneliness has appeared a lovely man who is offering his love, friendship and time so that we may enjoy comfort, connection and closeness together. We shall see.

Tantra invites us to discover and abide in the place of equanimity. Can I be ecstatic on top of the mountain as well as in the valley? For me, there is a place where aloneness and loneliness meet. It is ok to feel lonely while enjoying aloneness. And it is also ok to be completely at ease, blissfully alone yet still miss human companionship. It does not have to be so black and white. That’s what I love about the tantric path – we can overcome and transform seeming opposites into a harmonious whole.

“You have to accept all that is. You have to accept all that you are because only through acceptance does restlessness disappear, only through acceptance does one start cooling down. One becomes more collected and centered. When you accept, tensions are dropped. In acceptance is relaxation. In relaxation it is possible to turn in, and in relaxation it is possible to turn out. Both become smooth. Easy is the flow; you can go out and meet the other, and you can come back and meet with yourself. One day you will be surprised to find that the one who is in and the one who is out are not two. And when you go out, you go to your own outside, and when you go in, you go to your own inside. Those “ins” and “outs” are sides of you. This whole existence is a universe – that is the meaning of the word universe: it is unity.” ~Osho, gratefully excerpted from The Wisdom of the Sands Vol 2.

 

 

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Steve’s right here

Living alone in the tropics can be a challenge at times, especially when it comes to stuff like plumbing and repairs. Here is a story of Steve, coming to the rescue.

Community water resources have been so low these past couple of months that water has been turned off for most of the day. Fortunately, I have a very reliable well, but out of the blue, it ran dry. Nope, I do not I have emergency water, I realized. Things got intense for me very quickly. I had rental guests, it is hot and very dry here, and the garden is thirsty. No water. I scrambled to deal with this situation.

Smart thing to do – install an emergency water tank, I thought. I contracted the work to Julio, a knowledgeable maintenance man. In the nebulous recesses of my chemo brain, I remembered that Steve and I had talked about this years ago. Anyway, I got the tank, and Julio did the plumbing.

When the town water came back on for that one rare daily moment, I quickly filled up the new tank that was now connected up to my regular system. I turned it on to check, and the tubes burst. Julio came back the next day to fix them. We turned the water back on, and the new emergency system blew up again.

I was starting to feel very uneasy then. After he had repaired it not two, but three times, Julio admitted that things were not going to work the way he had thought. He suggested to make some major changes to the entire water system that Steve had carefully designed, to accommodate the new emergency tank. His suggestions involved drilling holes in the walls of the pump shed, cutting pipes that had worked perfectly fine before he started futzing around with them, rerouting water flow, et cetera.

By the time that conversation came around, I had eee-nough! I told him in no uncertain terms that no, he was not going to touch the system anymore, and I was not going to pay him for the rest of the job, since it was incomplete and not working. And that I was going to get someone else to finish it. With his feathers ruffled, Julio stomped off in a huff. Ah well.

At first I was not so sure what to do. Facing this type of situation is difficult for me, as I do not have any understanding of what’s what, and I am a single woman in the mostly male World of Repairs & Maintenance. Steve had been so good at stuff like that, and a total perfectionist.

Then, out of nowhere, I remembered Walter who had worked on our system many years ago, and he came by the same day. He took one look at the different valves and seemingly incomprehensibly interconnected numbered pipes, and then he said, ‘Look, all you have to do is connect the new tank to number four, open this valve, close that valve, and it will work just fine. This is what Steve had arranged.’

Silence.

And there he was, Steve, he stood right there next to me. He said, ‘Look, my love, it is easy. I already prepared for the emergency tank.’

I stepped back from Walter, aghast, speechless, my mouth hanging open, tears of relief and shock welling up. I could hardly speak for the next half hour or so. These 10 days of intensity, overwhelm, unexpected expenditure of time and resources, and feeling so helpless… And here was Steve calmly saying, ‘Lokita, my love. It is easy. I have prepared already for this situation.’

As I am writing this, my heart is overflowing with gratitude. Steve did so much, he gave so much, and even after his death he is still present. Sometimes he reminds me of the great tantric masters who disguised their teachings and hid them in secret places, only to be revealed years later, at the most auspicious time.

Steve has been dead for 3.5 years. My life has continued, grief has subsided, but I do wish he was still here in the body.

Two years ago today his murderers were sentenced to life in jail.

“And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.“
~Maya Angelou

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