Wings and String

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.”
-Jeremy Irons

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/horrigans/5120562483/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/dkj/3823047819/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

I took a trip this weekend.  Got on a plane, and flew the shortest flight known to man, and didn't even panic when the houses looked like matchboxes.  I left behind my reality, and for forty-eight hours, entered an alternate one. Effectively, I found a rabbit hole, and dove in. It was wonderful.

I had a long talk with a very good friend while I was in the big city, about relationships and growth and the future.  I've been struggling for some time now, trying to figure out how to explain to myself, to the husband, to those who matter, what I know to be true in my heart:  I love my husband, and I need more.

It sounds simple when it's just eight words.

But it's not that simple.  When I say to the man who has shared my life, been a best friend, father to my children, lover, cheerleader, the one with whom I share the memories of a lifetime, "I need more." what I do not want him to hear is, "You are not enough."

Those four words sound very much like, "You have failed... you are flawed... you are disposable..." and none of those things is true.  He is the anchor I've tied myself to for more than twenty years, and like Theseus finding his way back from the labyrinth of the minotaur, I will follow the string that leads me back to him.  But I still long to travel, to explore and discover, other hearts, other loves.

I had the chance to share my frustrations with my friend in the city. A wonderful, caring mentor, my friend pointed out some things that I'm still rolling around in my head, still processing, still sorting.  Naturally, I will spill them here, and let them run over the virutal page so I can make sense of them.

Poly = more than one.  It's a concept you surely understand, if you're reading this blog, and if you've read any of it, you know I do love more than one, have loved more than one, and plan to continue loving more than one, in the most honorable and honest way possible.    I found a great poem by one of my favorite brilliant-poetic-minds.  It's cute and funny -- a bit childish, but he is a children's poet, after all -- and the truth is still true when you come to the last line: 

"JUST ME, JUST ME"


Sweet Marie, she loves just me
(She also loves Maurice McGhee).
No she don't, she loves just me
(She also loves Louise Dupree).
No she don't, she loves just me
(She also loves the willow tree).
No she don't, she loves just me!
(Poor, poor fool, why can't you see
She can love others and still love thee.)
-Shel Shilverstein

I have a wonderful life, a wonderful friend to whom I am married.  He is so many things to me, I cannot begin to enumerate them, and no matter what happens tomorrow, only he can share my memories and the life we've built together.  Anything else would be just that... something else... someone else, but no one could take his place.

By the same token there is in me a need to escape my life once in a while, to fly away, to step through a looking glass into another world.  I need something different, to journey somewhere new, to discover someone I do not know, and to find a kindred soul that sparks when I draw near.  It makes sense that my husband cannot be both someone different and new, and also the secure, strong anchor at the end of my ball of string.  He cannot be both my big city adventure and my journey home.

And so, now my task is to explain to him, and help him understand.  Just because I need more, doesn't mean I don't need him, exactly as he is.  I hope it makes sense.

Keep your feet, Travelers!

On Love Lost and Found

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.”

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/kendrabentle/59782913/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

I was on the phone last night with Shepherd (not his real name) a new friend, when his question about my faith caught me off guard; not because it was an awkward question, but because it reminded me of someone I have come to love very deeply, someone with whom I've lost contact, and miss terribly.

I met Maks (not his real name) online, in 2008. We exchanged emails for a week or so, discovering that we both were writers, both enjoyed creativity and clever conversation. We played twenty questions, two lies and a truth, and generally shared bits and pieces of ourselves. While we held back the details, like names and ages, photos, and such, we shared intimate details, childhood memories, family skeletons and inner struggles. He shared his fears with me, his greif over the death of his mother, his regrets where his children were concerned. Maks gave me himself. Maks was, I would guess, about fifteen to twenty years my senior. He challenged me, and wasn't intimidated by my brains. He celebrated me. He had an uncanny way of reading between my lines, and accepting me under the skin.

Maks was the first man who explained polyamory in a way that made sense to me -- though that's not what he called it. He simply opened his heart to me... gave me a symbolic set of keys, and told me I could rummage around in the rooms of his heart, ask any questions, every door was open to me, but one. That one belonged to his wife.

Maks and I marveled at the way our hearts raced when we thought of each other, at the easy familiarity, and comfort we felt exposing our innermost thoughts and feelings to each other. Maks lived in South Korea, and I in the USA, and yet, there was a connection between us that defied the geographical distance. We walked in the rain together, stared at the same moon, at different times, he told me he kept a clock on his desk set to my time zone, so he could know what was going on with me, on the other side of the world. Tonight, as I watch a meteor shower, I will wonder whether he recently stared up at the same sky.

Among other things, Maks talked to me about faith. He had done something I'm still struggling to do - he'd reconciled his relationship with God to what he knew to be true about man's ability - and what he believed man's design - to love more than one. Maks reminded me that even when I was angry with God, and did not talk to Him for months, that He was still there, loving me, looking out for me. Maks prayed for me. He prayed for my marriage; he prayed for my husband and children by name. When my sister was nearly murdered, he prayed for my extended family, and he encouraged me to trust God.

Maks encouraged me to grow, to learn, to challenge myself beyond my limits. He loved me, and I loved him. We did not use the word love. That was one of his boundaries. Those words belonged to his wife, his lifetime partner. I respected that. Instead of the word love, we used the work know. For truly, the more we talked and wrote to each other, the more we knew each other, and he learned me well. Maks told me one day a story about a couple he'd read about in a science fiction novel. They used a repeated phrase, every time they parted, to express their love for each other. I can't remember the original phrasing, because we adapted it to fit our situation. When Maks and I would end a voice call, or a text chat, we would always say to each other, "Thee, and thou, Maks...and "Thou and thee, Phem."

Phem was a play on the word feminine, as Maks was a play on the word masculine. We were very much simply male and female. We were able to connect on a very deep emotional and mental level. I've never experienced anything quite like that with anyone else. I miss it.

I knew that there would come a day when Maks would log off, and not say goodbye. He knew there would come a time when his committment to his wife would mean that he would close his email account, his account on the website where we met, and stop writing with me in google docs. We talked about how meteors burn white hot... and vanish all too quickly. We knew that we were enjoying the intensity of an amazing relationship that had no guarantee except honesty, and an eventual expiration date.

I had no idea, the last time I spoke with Maks, the last time I heard his voice, his laugh, the catch in his throat when he said my name, that it would be weeks and indeed, months before I realized that he was truly gone. The thought has been in the back of my mind for several months now, and last night, talking with Shepherd about him, I realized how very much I miss this man.

Maks had a huge impact on my life, his gifts to me forever changed me. I don't regret the love I felt, the love I still feel, I only wish I had one more conversation, one more story to write together, one more message, left at the bottom of a google doc.

If I knew he were going to read this, I'd tell him what I always told him:

I miss you terribly, and there will always be a huge room in my heart that you carved out for yourself. Sometimes, I go in there, and sit a while, and feel your presence. Thank you, for giving yourself to me.

Thee and thou, Maks. I know you.

"The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough."

-Abdulkhaleq Abdulla

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Keep Your Feet, Readers.

WIth This Ring

There was a definite process by which one made people into friends, and it involved talking to them and listening to them for hours at a time.
-Rebecca West
1892-1983

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/maxshirley/96946032/)

I put my wedding ring back on today.  I'm not quite sure exactly where we stand, but Husband and I agreed last night on two things:

We want to take steps to make it easier for him to deal with sharing me, talking about people in whom I'm interested, communicating openly about jealousy, fear, possibility and opening up our marriage, and reading more resource books as we move things forward.

We also want to take specific steps to strengthen our relationship, beyond friendship.  This means date nights get priority, and we plan seductions, with the help of Laura Corn's101 Nights Books:



(I have no idea why the Dares book is so expensive, we didn't pay that for it.  Someone must be selling it used, and think it's priceless.  Maybe it's a signed copy?  Still, hopefully you can find it cheap somewhere.)

Anyway, things are looking up with the husband, and it's nice to be able to relax around him.  I'm hopeful about possibilities, too.  Another meeting of local polys coming up in a few days, and that means new friends to meet, then I'm off on a plane to spend the weekend with some more friends.

It's strange, really, feels sort of new, but I know this man.  He was my best friend, once.  I miss that easy, comfortable feeling with him.  There's still a part of me that fears he'll decide he can't share me, and his only other option is to walk away.  I know I'm asking him to make a huge adjustment, even on a trial basis.  Not knowing what would happen is what kept me from being honest with him in the first place about how I feel, and what I want from this life.  I'm glad I took a leap of faith, and decided to go after what I want, even if it meant risking the safety I have with him.  Maybe, just maybe, he'll stick around and let me keep loving him, as I love others too.  Huge adjustment.  But I know now, whether we stay together or go our separate ways, we made every effort to love and support each other, and give each other room to grow. 


What more can I ask?

Keep Your Feet!

Not Necessarily in the Middle of the Road

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
-Dr. Seuss
"Oh! The Places You'll Go!"

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/simplyshutterbug/5364890327/)

I'm not sure where to begin with this first post, because I'm not at the beginning of my journey. I'm simply at the beginning of the process of chronicling my experiences and growth.

I write for two reasons, first to process my own thoughts and emotions. I want to sort things out -- learn, grow, and make good decisions -- and for me, writing has always been my way of doing just that. Second, I write to encourage and share my experiences with anyone who might find themselves reading my pages online. I'd like to think, at the very least, it would help others to know that I am on this path, and sometimes I stumble, and sometimes I skip, but I'm always trying to move forward.

And so, I think I'll begin with today.  I'm smack dab in the middle of my life, and I've discovered that there is so much adventure to be had, I am determined not to wait to find it.

Over the past several years, I've learned that people are amazing, and filled with a great capacity to love.  There are gold mines of wonder and delight to be found in the deep, dark places inside a person.  I know, because I've been lucky enough to explore some breathtaking caverns inside of some amazing people. I hope, in future posts, to share with you some of that journey, and introduce you to some of those amazing people, without betraying their anonymity, of course.

I mentioned in the sidebar note, About the Traveler, that I will be flinging odds and ends into this drawer.  I hope you won't be confused by things like time-lines and names and how all the puzzle pieces fit.  I advise you to take each item as it stands, and enjoy whatever beauty you find.  I offer to you, gentle reader, what I've learned, what I hope to learn, and the whole glorious, tangled mass that is my love-life.  It's the best I have to offer:

I come from a very close knit, very spiritual family.  I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a friend.  I have not always been responsible, or honest in my relationships.  I've let love set me running down paths without thought, and let fear keep me from being honest with myself and those I love.  I've made quite a mess of things, but I'm endeavoring to clean up, to make things right, and to move forward in a way that honors both me, and those I love.

I suppose I should begin with my husband.  He has been my friend for half my life, a very good man, and one whom I love dearly.  There was a stretch of time, a period of intense transition in my personal life, when I realized he couldn't give me what I need.  He loves me, and I him, but my frustration with the limits of our relationship drove a wedge between us.  I hid, and pulled away, and kept secrets from him.  I will be sorry for the wounds I inflicted upon him, for a very long time.

He and I very nearly split, and I could not blame him if he decided, today, that he was finished with the whole mess I've made.  But he has been incredibly patient, and willing to give me room to explore my heart, and its capacity to love more than one.  I've been opening up to him, sharing with him the secrets I'd kept for so long. It's not an easy process.  He's willing to walk this road with me, one step at a time, and knows that he's free to step away, if he ever decides it's too hard.

I am very lucky.

Today is Sunday, and every Sunday belongs to my husband.  We try to schedule several hours to spend together, to talk, to laugh, to enjoy our friendship as we try to define our relationship from this point forward.  I am looking forward to this afternoon with him.  I hope to talk with him about the possibilities I see ahead, I'm opening my heart to a new friend, and hope my husband will be open to accepting and adjusting to changes as I make slow steps toward the unknown.  I know we will have to navigate the rough patches together, and the journey will sometimes be painful.  I also know that the joy will match the intensity of the hurt, and the work will be well worth the effort.

It's a strange thing, living every day beside someone, knowing that they may walk away, knowing that they have every right to do so.  The choice to live this life was not an easy one.  I may lose my marriage, I may lose friends, and loved ones.  I have chosen though, to live, to the fullest, the life that makes me happy.  It's already been a road of intense joy, and overwhelming grief.  I refuse to live without risk, without intensity.

And so I stand here, not necessarily in the middle of the road, but somewhere on a twisted and glorious path.  I am enjoying every vista I encounter on the way, every caterpillar and flower, every thorn and pebble in my shoe.  Somewhere out there, is more love to be found, and I am just the girl to go after it with everything I've got!

He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: it's springs were at every doorstep and every path was it's tributary. "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to."
-The Lord of the Rings
Frodo about his uncle Bilbo Baggins, Chapter 'Three is Company'.

Keep your feet,