Friday, September 25, 2009

The imprinting of intimacy

I've been thinking about desire.

I know, I know, what's new? It is, after all, in the title of this place. It is it's raison d'etre.

So there I was, once again thinking about desire. This time about how disordered my understanding and experience of it has been for so long. All my life really.

The problem came from getting the whole sex thing out of order. I was a product of my era; sex came into relationships early.

Very early.

Here's the way it -should- go:

First comes love.

Out of love comes desire; a desire for union that builds over time.

As the relationship grows and deepens, the desire for union grows and deepens until it becomes a burning gulf between you.

A raging fire.

Remaining in the desire becomes a delicious torture. An exquisite torment.

I think this time of waiting, this season of restraint and control, imprints on the man and woman, and changes them forever. I think that their bodies and minds and spirits are changed by the waiting, the denial, the anticipation. They are marked by it for ever, for eachother.

And once the time of waiting is fulfilled and they finally come together, the union must be sweet beyond words, and must pierce the eternal.

And the mark that the waiting made on their hearts, minds, and souls, can never be forgotten, or removed.

It is no wonder that marriages so often struggle. So few couples receive this profound gift and grace.

3 comments:

Cynthia said...

This line makes me wish I could go back and live my life over again

"And the mark that the waiting made on their hearts, minds, and souls, can never be forgotten, or removed"

Pranayama mama said...

My mom and I were in a hotel in PA over a year ago for a family reunion. Later that night, a bride and groom were checking in -- still dressed from the ceremony. Both looked miserable/bored/apathetic. My mom and I noticed and she commented on it later. I thought, perhaps, it was because the couple were probably living (or sleeping) together for years and this was just another day . . . sad, no?

Diane Marie Hall said...

imagine if the first step was a deep friendship...where they learned to dance
this is my favorite part of your blog-
Remaining in the desire becomes a delicious torture. An exquisite torment.
exquisite torment;what a concept.