She Loves Me with Coffee

          Maybe kissing is sort of like nature's coffee.

                                    Scott Westerfeld, Midnighters: Blue Noon, 2005


                                  “I'd rather take coffee than compliments just now.”
                                    ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
-- T. S. Eliot 

“Hydrogenated and androgynous milky white love is all I have to offer you. Would you like me to pour it in your coffee, or directly into your soul?
” 
― Jarod Kintz, The Days of Yay are Here! Wake Me Up When They're Over.

“Coffee and love taste best when hot” 

― African Proverb

“Life is a beautiful and endless journey in search of the perfect cup.”
― Barbara A. Daniels


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Dragonfly Girl drinks tea. I love tea, I drink it when I’m writing, or when I’m at work and it’s cold, and the coffee in the pot is old enough to become bitter... but in the morning, I love a slightly sweet, very creamy cup of coffee. There’s something about sunrise that tea just can’t handle, for me. Coffee is my morning friend.

But this post isn’t about coffee...it’s about love.

I am in love with a beautiful woman -- and she loves me.

I confess, I just spent a few minutes staring at that sentence. I never expected to find myself writing those words. Although I’m attracted to curves and softness and... yeah... I am...I didn’t set out with some agenda to dabble in the fairer sex or to find a relationship with a woman. I definitely didn’t plan to seduce or be seduced by the woman who loves my Sir... I didn’t plan at all outside of planning to know and support her relationship with him as if it were my own. I know neither of us planned beyond that. We simply trusted --- and love happened.

I’ve been quiet for a few months when it comes to blogging, unable to write. Work has been busy; family life has been crazy; my cup of love has been spilling over -- down my blouse, onto the sofa and the carpet --- staining my life with rich, deep color.

Perhaps I should take a few minutes to explain the details:

In short, Husband and I are well, happy and healthy. We celebrate 18 years of marriage this month. Shepherd and I are happy and healthy too. We celebrated two years last June. Dragonfly Girl and I have been happily exploring our relationship slowly, letting it unfold on its own, since last February. Also, she, Shepherd and I are discovering the joys of an “equilateral polyamorous triad” relationship.

Wow, those are loaded words. Let me offer a definition: “[A]n equilateral polyamorous triad means a total relationship -- social, emotional and sexual -- between all three partners in that triad relationship.” (source) I’m not gonna linger long on this subject, because that’s not the point of this post, but since I haven’t written in a while, I think it’s important to clarify. I am a poly girl in four different “primary” relationships with three people:

1. Ephemera and Husband (committed, forever partnership)
2. Ephemera and Shepherd (committed, forever partnership)
3. Ephemera and Dragonfly Girl (committed, forever partnership)
4. Ephemera / Shepherd / Dragonfly Girl (committed, forever, triad partnership)

In my life, each of these partners and each of our relationships is vital. No other relationships come before them. I love deeply, fully, and daily -- and my full energy goes into each, and in those terms, there are no secondary relationships in my heart or life. Yes, I am the crazy girl who fell in love with two people who live a whole state away. But we work really hard to make it work, and it’s worth it.

Detailed explanation addressed.

Now back to the coffee.

I first met Dragonfly Girl in a coffee shop. I believe she had tea. Shepherd introduced me to her shortly after they started dating, saying she might be someone really important in his life, and since we are openly poly, of course, he would like us to meet. I was nervous. It wasn’t easy. To be honest, I was afraid that since Sir had finally found a girl who lived nearby, he wouldn’t need one who lived 251 miles away. I could tell by his smile when he spoke of her that he was so very in love, and I was really feeling the distance. All my insecurities were running rampant. I will tell you this, as I sat down to breakfast with the two of them that morning, I was struck by two things. She has the most amazing smile, it lights up a room! She was gracious and genuine and sweet. and the only word that I could think of, both watching her with him, and each time she included me in the conversation, was that love spilled out of this woman in such great quantities there was no way the world around her couldn’t see it.

Several months later, at the height of a very difficult transition in our lives, Dragonfly Girl came to my home town to visit family. She took time out during that weekend to meet me for coffee and we talked for hours. She was incredible, beautiful and accepting. She shared with me about how important family was in her life, and how she needed me to be a part of her family forever. She had been defending me and lovingly standing up for me for weeks, against someone who wanted me to be ejected and excluded from Shepherd’s life. She insisted, on my behalf, that people are not interchangeable parts. Sitting there in that coffee shop, I was reminded again of what I’d seen months before in spite of my fear and insecurity. This beautiful woman was the real deal --- she lived love.

And she loves me.

Last month, I spent a weekend with my Dragonfly Girl, just the two of us. She met me at the airport looking so incredibly beautiful I couldn’t breathe. She’d dressed up just for me. I don’t know why but that thought makes me teary-eyed. She took me to dinner, a real Friday night-date, and we talked non-stop, holding hands across that table, sharing our hearts and our lives with each other. Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m right there again. The conversation continued, in the car on the way home... back in the cottage where we curled up in her bed and whispered into the night, kissing shyly. Both of us were sharing our hearts, speaking words of love and reassurance the other needed to hear. We talked until she fell asleep, and I laid there watching her smile in her dreams. It was amazing.

The next morning, she made me coffee.

She made a delicious breakfast, and we talked and talked and talked. We’d planned to go to the spa, and the balloon festival, and we didn’t even get out of our pajamas. We just poured our hearts into each other, and then later we ordered pizza, and laughed and cried and talked, and held hands, and kissed and talked... until we fell asleep again.

The next morning, she made me coffee.

Since it was Sunday, we did get dressed. We met Shepherd for church, and then brunch, and then dragged him back to the cottage to cuddle and talk some more... and before the day was done, they both made love to me. It was a perfect day. Shepherd left us alone that evening, and went back to his condo so she and I could have some time. After some more heart-sharing and cuddles, I fell asleep in Dragonfly Girl’s arms, with happy tears on my cheeks. For a poet girl, that’s pretty close to heaven. My flight was too-awful-early on Monday morning, and she didn’t mind driving me to the airport.

--- after she made me coffee.

Leaving was as hard as it’s ever been. But I made the most of every moment, and didn’t cry too much until I was alone at the gate. I flew home, drove straight to work, and headed in to my desk. On the way in I passed by the kitchen, as I always do, and I could smell the coffee in the pot. The aroma made me smile --- because she loves me with coffee.

Follow your hearts, and keep your feet, Travelers!

Confession

I have a confession to make:

I've been silent for far too long.

You see, I started this blog, and the others to chronicle a journey - my journey, and when the road got really, really tough, I stopped writing about it. The point of writing in the first place is to help me process, to show me where I'm headed, to keep me from losing my way. The second point of writing is that, for some strange reason there always seems to be someone asking me for advice... about loving more than one, about embracing your own darkness, about relationships and journeys in general. I don't know why god or the universe, or fate brings people to me with questions. I don't think it's because I know all that much. I rather think it's because there are so many questions, and I am usually transparent enough to say I'm stumbling my way through my life with questions galore.

At any rate, when I lost my way, and got caught in a downward spiral, I stopped sharing my journey.

I wish I hadn't.

I don't want to spend too much time on the negative, but if you're reading here, I don't want you to think my life, and the road I've chosen is always wonderful. I don't float through my world chasing lovers and getting all the kinky play and sex I can handle without ever screwing things up, or getting lost, hurt, taken advantage of, or being misunderstood. I don't do everything right, and I certainly don't fail to deal out a fair share of pain and frustration to others, though I wish I never hurt anyone.

In the past nine months, I've fallen in love, given my heart, trusted.
I've been wounded, depressed, despondent.
I've been welcomed, accepted and loved.
I've been childish, afraid, and repentant.

I've risked greatly by opening my heart and life to women who are loved by the men I love. At times that has been so frightening I felt backed into a corner, fighting like a cat, with claws and terror.... and the result is I've hurt some of the women, and in turn, the men I love most. My insecurity has been a bitch, and I have spent several weeks looking hard in the mirror, taking responsibility for the pain and depression and frustration I've been living, and causing for others.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have a martyr complex. But the bottom line is that my happiness is my responsibility.

In terms of the women... three of five have proven to be human. Real. Strong. Amazing. Giving and accepting of my fucked-up attempts to keep my footing. It's strange to realize just now that those three, are all loved by my Shepherd. I think it says something about him, that they are so amazing. It may well say something about me, too. For I have no doubt that I am loved by him, and by these three women as well. I am grateful to be counted in such company.

As for the two who have proven otherwise, each simply decided she could not face me, and could not share. One did so honestly, and is now no longer in a relationship with Husband. I am sorry about that, but bear her no real ill-will. She has to seek what makes her happy. I am watching to make sure she does so in a way that honors Husband.

The remaining woman, I trusted too much. When I began to uncover her lies to me, to Poet and to others, it was too late, the damage was done. I stopped trying to figure out what were truths and what were lies with her, weeks ago, and simply limped away.

I am more guarded than ever with women now. I hope I am not always, though.

In terms of the men... I find my circle of lovers smaller today than it was six months ago. In addition, I carry the scars of those who chose to leave. I have lost a play partner perhaps due to something as simple as scheduling issues. I have lost my young Poet because he chose to stop communicating with me, with no explanation as to why.

I do not stop loving, just because someone decides their life is too full, too complicated, too unhappy for me. I admit freely, that I am still mourning. I especially miss the passion we shared for language, verse, beauty and romance. I believed in him. I still do. I still love him, and probably always will. And yet, today, I accept that he has made the only choice he could. Perhaps someday he might trust me as a friend. Perhaps that door is forever closed. But I cannot continue to lie on the floor outside of that door, waiting. I must live.

I stand in front of the mirror today, and I can still see the scars.
Someday even the scars will be beautiful, and perhaps they already are.
I know at least that I am alive, healing, and stronger.
And I am loved.
Wanted.

Yes, today has been about confessing that I am weak, and messy and have recently been extremely fucked up.

But there is more:

I am strong.
I am beautiful in my brokenness and in my strength.
I am imperfect.
I am willing to be transparent, in case someone else is looking to me for direction.
I don't know the answers, but I do know that this life I've chosen is the one I want.

I only hope I earn the good I've gained so far.

This is a cross post on the Kink and Poly blogs.

It's a Messy Business!

"Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look out upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything."
~Willie Dixon
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"There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify - so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish."

~John Keats
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"We are not born all at once, but by bits. The body first, and the spirit later; and the birth and growth of the spirit, in those who are attentive to their own inner life, are slow and exceedingly painful."
~Mary Antin
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"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, of fix us in the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations."
-The Diary of Anaïs Nin Vol. 4 (1971)

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He said to me, “Baby, imagine being invited to witness the birth of a most incredible, beautiful creature you can imagine. That’s what it’s like to have you in my life.”

I wrote a post back in April about rebirth that began with the above line.

I've given birth four times.  I've been a witness to births that were not my own children at least four times. 

You'd think I'd understand that though it's an amazing process, it's messy.  I've spent the past several months crying, yelling and pouting.  I've negotiated, I've whined, I've been an emotional wreck.  Granted, I've had upsets in my career, my family life, and have faced physical issues.  But my emotional outbursts have involved my relationships with The Husband, The Shepherd and The Poet.  

Here's the thing.  Things have been changing.  With every relationship I'm in, there's been the addition of another relationship - meaning each man has another woman in his life besides me.  I'm working really hard to be happy for them. I am honestly glad.  But, more people means less time.  It's just the reality of poly relationships.  Of course, there are also other factors, life gets busy.  But I have been really struggling. not with feeling threatened, but with coming to terms with the fact that each of the men in my life have someone local who gets to spend a great deal of time with them.  For the two that are not my husband, these women get to spend more time, only have to drive across town, and that is hard for me, because I am envious.  

I've not been very good about handling my emotions, expressing them, or adjusting to the changes, even the minor ones, in schedules.  And still, these men are patient with me.  The do stand up to me and say, "You need to figure out what's going on with you.  You need to communicate like an adult."  But they also remind me that I need to give myself a break.

Rebirth can be messy.  Growing can be complicated.  Insecurities can be tough.

But I am loved, and pushed to grow, and wanted by three amazing men who want a ringside seat.  I am very lucky.

So, let's get messy.  I have some change to go through.

  

 

Phoenix

Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.

~Christina Baldwin

by Temari 09 on Flickr

He said to me, “Baby, imagine being invited to witness the birth of a most incredible, beautiful creature you can imagine. That’s what it’s like to have you in my life.” …and he calls me his poet. Shepherd sees me as a being in the midst of rebirth. I suppose I see myself much the same way -- a sort of phoenix being reborn, not from the ashes of my life, but still, reborn. 

In a conversation with my young adult daughter last week, she confided in me that she sees herself as a curious person; eager to learn and to experience all life has to offer. She’s wondering about how that will translate into her most important, romantic relationship. She worries that she will get bored after choosing the one man to marry and raise a family alongside. My baby girl knows that monogamy isn’t her only option. She also knows that monogamy is a perfectly viable choice on her list. What struck me about her revelation is that I know exactly how she feels.

I remember as a young woman being excited about making those soul-connections with others. The majority of my friends were men, and I didn’t date all that much until I was a senior in high school. But there was something different in me, a hunger – a passion that many wouldn’t acknowledge, or at least some tried to discourage. “You’re too intense… too emotional… too idealistic.” I heard all these indictments from so called friends, and well meaning acquaintances.

At the age of nineteen, I was just beginning to explore the world when I found myself pregnant. Immediately the course of my life changed. My flight was grounded. I married, because it was the only choice given me. I began a family three months before my twentieth birthday. Four years later I had three babies, and was single again. Don’t misunderstand me, because I loved raising my kids. I was a damned good mother – the very best I knew how to be. I’m proud of the adults my children became, and of the investment I made to be their full-time mom.

However, a few years ago I worked myself out of that job as one by one, each of my children launched out on their own and began to fly. The grieving process for that separation was something I never anticipated, but in time I learned to accept that this was how life works. Watching them test their wings, I felt those old dreams fluttering to life in my spirit. It was time for me to go back and explore that life that I’d traded in exchange for motherhood and family, twenty years before.

Some would say that I am the woman who grew unhappy in her marriage, and went through a crisis, deciding to abandon all that I’d worked so hard to build for selfish reasons. I was feeling old, and realizing that my life was half over. So I went a little crazy, and decided I wanted more -- more men, more sex, and more life. The truth is that all those things are true, in a very narrow sense. But I didn’t become polyamorous overnight because the label fit the sort of life I’d just come to decide I wanted. I think this broken bird inside of me has always been waiting to spread her wings and chase those dreams that she earlier laid aside.

Now I find myself exploring, working, building the muscles it takes to fly, and it’s intense. It’s hard, and exhausting, and wonderful. I spend a great deal of time worrying and crying, thinking and communicating, writing and examining my heart. This life is complicated. This being reborn process is painful. But every time I break through and find that plateau where I can soar and rest and think about how truly fortunate I am – I realize the true worth of my struggles.

This is the intensity I’ve always craved. This complicated, painful, stretching rebirth is just who I am, and just where I belong. I’m glad others think it’s a privilege to witness. For me, living it is nothing less that truly amazing – and in the end, if someone who loves me is moved to poetry by the life I’m living, I’m truly blessed to be so loved.

Flying

by Dave Hamster on Flickr

Flying without feathers is not easy; my wings have no feathers.
~Titus Maccius Plautus
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When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.
~Leonardo Da Vinci
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I pick the prettiest part of the sky and I melt into the wing and then into the air, till I'm just soul on a sunbeam.
~Richard Bach
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If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?
~E.Y. Harburg
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I have my tickets... or my confirmation number anyway. I have my boarding pass... or I suppose I have my early-bird boarding confirmation, too.  The point is, on Friday morning I'll be flying 251 miles to see my Shepherd.  I am beside myself with eagerness and joy.  

There's something wonderful about the space between here and there, only when I'm in it, of course.  It's like slipping through a portal between worlds, and lingering there a while, butterflies dancing in my stomach.  There's a shift from my world to his, and back again.  

In Shepherd's world, there's a place for me, I fit there, welcomed by him and those who are important in his life.  It's a place where I go alone, leaving behind my motherness, my wifeness, my daughterness, my employeeness.  (I know, creating new words, I can't leave behind my writerness.)  In Shepherd's world I am just me, just his girl, and his poet, wanted and loved for being myself.

Husband's world is no less incredible.  In his world, in my primary world, I get to be wife, mother, daughter, sister, Mimi, lover and friend.  I wouldn't trade Husband's world for anything.  It's just that the two are a universe apart for me.  And that's a good thing.  Distance means I go, escape into Shepherd's world and enjoy. Then I come back  to Husband's world, refreshed, if a bit bruised.  I am welcomed with love and acceptance, and I am cherished for being me.

The truth is this.  In Shepherd's world, I miss Husband.  In Husband's world, I miss Shepherd.  I'm always wishing someone were there, or I were with someone, or that we were all... and that is too much to hope for, at this point.  Though I've wondered what it would be like just to sit down to dinner with both of them, or to celebrate a birthday, or a holiday with the men who carry my heart.

The other truth is this.  In that flying space between Shepherd and Husband, I am alone.  Waiting in the airport after my last trip to see Shepherd, I found myself staring out the window at the purple Dallas sky, as tears fell from my lashes.  I felt alone.  I missed Shepherd.  I missed Husband.  I'd had an amazing weekend, was tired and sore and incredibly happy.  I was looking forward to falling asleep in Husband's arms.  And I cried in my loneliness, then boarded a plane, and rode the wind back home.

It will be much the same this Friday morning, as I fly south to meet Shepherd.  I will be excited, eager to see him, to hold him close and feel his lips on mine.  Yet in part of my heart, I will begin missing husband.  I will feel acutely that sense of being alone, without either of them.    It's not always a bad thing.  Sometimes a few moments alone is exactly what I need to be able to breathe.  But I'm aware, always aware, of the distance between me and the ones I'm without.

At least I know I can fly.

Lessons from Butterflies

"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad. "
-C. S. Lewis 

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"Transformation literally means going beyond your form. "
-Wayne Dyer 
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"There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse!  As I have often found in travelling in a stagecoach, that it is often a comfort to shift one's position, and be bruised in a new place." 
-Washington Irving
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"Growth is the only evidence of life."  
-John Henry Newman, Apologia pro vita sua, 1864
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"If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies."  
-Author Unknown
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So, there's this part of transforming from a monogamous relationship to a polyamorous one that is extremely complicated.  The communication is hard work.  The emotions run high.  The stress is real.  Don't get me wrong; this isn't a rant.  I just figure if my plan here is to be real about my journey, then I need to tell you --- whoever you are out there reading ---that sometimes it's really, really hard.  

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/randyread/931759178/)

Husband and I have spent the past couple of weeks hashing out some feelings; something I'm used to, but he isn't.  It's not easy for either of us.  Probably the biggest challenge we face involves time, and dividing it between different activities and people.  I understand that for Husband --- who a few years ago never really had to give up time with me --- the change is unnerving. It can't be easy now, watching me invest time in outside activities, hobbies, social groups and yes, in my relationship with Shepherd. It's logical that his first instinct is to hold tighter, instead of letting go.

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/randyread/1007678907/in/photostream/)

No matter how much he agrees (in theory) that I need time to myself, to create, to grow, to invest in the people and things that are important to me... no matter how much he admits that the majority of my time and energy has been going into our relationship and this transition, the day-to-day reality is just hard.  It's tough to focus on the positive, which is why I make a concerted effort to tell and show Husband every day that I love him, that I need him, and want him to be who he is in my life.  I remind him that I'm not looking for a replacement, that I'm not going anywhere, and that nobody is better at this job of being him than he is.  

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/randyread/1007678937/in/photostream/)

Still, some days I don't have the energy to carry him, or to check on him, or to walk on eggshells, worried that he'll fall apart.  I'm learning how important it is to nurture myself.  If I don't get my needs met, I don't have what I need to invest in the work of building and strengthening our relationship.   This whole journey is very much about balance and honesty.  So beginning Tuesday night, I took some time last week to hide out in my room, my cocoon.  I read, I wrote, I chatted with some online friends I haven't connected with in a while.  It was a long three days, but I needed the solitude.

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/randyread/931567394/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

And Husband didn't love it, but he gave me space to find my way back to us.  We spent the weekend talking, holding each other, sharing our feelings and our fears.  We read through the chapter in The Ethical Slut titled "Road Maps Through Jealousy", which really helped us deal with the roller coaster emotions we've been riding.  Things aren't perfect yet, but we are stronger, and ready to do some more work.

Changes can be tough, even painful.  

But once we emerge, and our wings dry... the resulting flight will be amazing.  

I believe it.

Keep your feet,

Winter Solstice

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.
~Christina G. Rossetti


O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark, Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
~William Blake


There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons-- That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes--
~Emily Dickinson

It snowed and snowed, the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on the table; A candle burned.

~Boris Pasternak

Every mile is two in winter.
~George Herbert
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(http://www.flickr.com/photos/wader/9354427/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

I am feeling the winter solstice -- that longest darkest night between the comfort of the sun's last embrace, and the warmth of his next.  I last saw my Shepherd six weeks ago.  It was indescribable being with this man whom I love so deeply, and who loves me well, knows me deeply in return.  I will see him again, in six weeks.  Normally, we will try to schedule a weekend every two months, and in fact, we've done that.  The countdown has begun. However, what with the holidays, and two very long winter months... you see my point.  


"Every mile is two in winter." And right now, 251 feels like 500.


And 2.


Shepherd and I have often talked about how difficult it is to be so far from one we love.  Our relationship is built on phone calls, text messages and emails.  We schedule time each week for our 'being together apart' call, we reach for each other several times each day through the wonderful technology of smart phones, and I love it all.  Still we feel the distance, like hundreds of thousands of lovers throughout the ages who have, and still do live apart.  It is the world we live in, and it is the polyamorous relationship we have chosen.


On the other hand, quite literally, there is my Husband.  


Husband is very much monogamous, at this point.  He is working very hard at this open marriage.  I love him dearly, and am amazed that he would love me enough to adjust to me having other loves.  He is incredible, and the work is difficult.


Very difficult on us both.


Especially when the midwinter blues arrive, and I really, really want to be with my Shepherd.  I know my Husband senses the sadness in me.  I know he's frustrated by the fact that he can't fill that space.  I carry some guilt for what I think I'm putting him through... wanting to be with someone else while I'm with him.  Damn these emotions are hard to balance and impossible to control.  I love my husband deeply, need him, and enjoy the life we share.  Even when the work is hard, and the communication seems so strained and frustrating -- there is hope, affection and respect.  Husband acknowledges that there are needs in me he can't meet, spaces he can't fill.  He respects that I am a huge vessel and need the love of others poured into, and out of myself, in order to be happy.  Yet the emotions that come with that reality are sometimes heavy, and rough.  I don't like watching him carry them.  I'm sure he doesn't like watching me carry them either.


This night is dark, and cold.  I am warmed by the love of two men, and for that I'm grateful.  What I really want, is to see the sun.




Keep traveling, and mind your feet.

Sitting With the Feelings

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

-Khalil Gibran

1883-1931

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/edeninchina/5339833443/sizes/m/in/photostream/)

In their book, The Ethical Slut, Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy dedicate a whole chapter to jealousy. The section is dog-eared, because I know I will benefit from reading it over and again. I turned to it tonight to pull out a quote about feelings.

"So here you are, shell cracked, with waves of pain washing over you. What do you do? Get as comfortable as you can, and see how you can learn to ride those waves instead of drowning under them. Gather up the courage to feel what you're feeling. Explore your feelings, nourish them, treasure them -- they are the most essential part of you."

What an amazing thing it is to have those intense emotions encouraged, justified, celebrated. I admit I am an intensely emotional being. I feel. Deeply. Part of my polyamorous make-up is that I desire intensity, seek out strong emotional connections. I have learned that incredibly overwhelming happiness also means a balance of intense pain and sorrow. I would rather feel... deeply... than let fear keep me from risking love.

Which brings me back to tonight.

In overview, I've met someone who is quite amazing. He's been a friend for four months, and a while back we decided to move ahead and explore more than friendship. I am filled with the excitement of new-relationship-energy, and also with the security of a solid friendship as a base to build upon. Honestly, my feelings for Shepherd are intense.

Husband knows about Shepherd. We have spent several weeks talking, sharing, listening to each other's heart about this new relationship. Husband is adjusting to the reality of me loving others. Though the progress seems arduous and sometimes slow, he is making great strides toward understanding and acceptance. I am amazed and grateful.

Things were rocking along so well, I took something for granted. Husband had a trip planned this weekend, and so I thought it would be a good time for me to go visit Shepherd again. I was thinking if Husband had a fun weekend to keep him busy, it wouldn't be so hard to deal with the emotions of me being elsewhere with someone.

The truth of the matter is that Husband is beginning to struggle with the reality of all these changes in his life and our relationship. When he learned that I booked a flight, he reacted. He communicated. We've been communicating about it on a daily basis since. Don't get me wrong, the communication has been healthy, even our arguments are resolved with eventual patience and efforts to understand both sides. We are learning this process. The result is that I reluctantly told Shepherd I needed to postpone my trip, and focus on the growth that is happening in my marriage. He responded graciously, generously, lovingly. He is disappointed, but understanding. I am a lucky girl.

Which brings me, once again, to tonight.

It's nine o'clock on Friday night, and I am sitting alone at the desk, staring at the laptop. If my plans had gone through, I'd be on an airplane about now. I am not. Shepherd has had a busy week, filled with longer-than-usual days at work. He has a life too, and that's our reality. He has been very good to touch base with me via text throughout the week, and I feel very much loved because of it.

Still, I am disappointed and lonely tonight.

Husband is enjoying his trip. He checks in with me to make sure I'm okay. He has acknowledged how hard this is for me; thanked me for understanding. I'm sure he will check in later to say goodnight and remind me that he loves me. I feel very much loved by him as well.

So I sit with my emotions. I remind myself that it's good for me to know what it will be like when Husband is home feeling lonely, and I am out having an adventure. I am tempted to have a glass of wine, to just go to sleep and avoid the pain, but I don't.

I 'gather up my courage' and 'feel what I am feeling'. I follow Dossie and Janet's advice, and explore my feelings. I nourish them and treasure them.

They are the most essential part of me:

 a girl traveler.

I wish you well, and hope you'll take something from my experience here.


Mind your feet--and your hearts,

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!

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,