Learning to let him drive

The other day I reunited with an old flame from the past. We hadn't seen each other in more than 7 years, and started to reconnect on Facebook.

During lunch, he opened his fortune cookie. It said: "A good friend is the best mirror."

In that big space, we've both transformed so radically that we're almost like different people now. Seeing myself through the mirror of this rediscovered friendship, is like time traveling overnight from 38 to 46. I'm starting to appreciate that this journey wasn't a waste of time, and that I'm a better person now because of it.

At first I was shocked to see how he'd gone from dark hair to gray, from slender to middle aged paunch, from a trendy young man full of hubris, ego and attitude, to a stable father, a responsible, caring, loving adult. Having a child cracked his once guarded heart wide open, and I have to say, I like him a lot better this way. The person I was then might have been more attracted to this man 7 years ago.

Last time we were together, I was a hard driving corporate executive and focused most of my energy on my career and acquiring stuff, including a house worth almost a million dollars. I was living a very inauthentic life. He was living a very authentic life of spiritual seeking, way on the cutting edge of San Francisco's countercultural underground, and I think when we met he was actually living in his car with a large dog. He was too intense for me. But there was a powerful attraction there -- and I ran from it because a lot of the things he was into at that time (from alternative music to astrology and metaphysics) were just way to wierd for me to handle.

For most of those 7 years, I've been in and out of painful, hurtful and even abusive relationships. Seeking the love inside that I wasn't finding outside, I delved deep into a spiritual journey that has involved tantric sexual healing work, workshops and therapy.

Meanwhile, while I stepped out of the dominant paradigm to explore an increasingly way-out world, he became more conventional.

He turned into the corporate executive, got married, bought the house, had a child. And now, here we were, 7 years later - strangely closer to each other and with more common ground than we had when the journey began.

His marriage was destroyed by his wife's controlling behavior -- which included her insisting on driving all the time, working while he stayed home and played house husband, and finally, a spiritual path that was the final blow that severed their common ground.

It is especially ironic that such a physically large and strong man, a man who is like the very essence of masculine, ended up so "pussy whipped" and emasculated in his marriage.

Laura Doyle wrote a controversial book a few years ago that advises women to let go, become more feminine, and let the man be in charge.

Here is my friend Laura's book:

http://www.surrenderedwife.com/surrendered_wife_books_surrendered_wife.html

As a hard driving career chick, I always had a hard time letting go. Now that my journey had softened me up, made me more comfortable with my divine feminine essence, I could relate more to the wisdom in allowing the yin/yang of masculine / feminine polarity take over -- much as Ginger Rogers let Fred Astaire lead her in the dance. I was feeling more comfortable with the idea of being with this extremely masculine, powerful man, and letting him set the pace of the relationship, letting him pursue and lead. And with the idea, eventually, of relinquishing my lonely independence and allowing myself to be interdependent.

Writer and relationship guru David Deida talks about striving, ideally, for "interdependent" (rather
than co-dependent) relationship between men and women, and the balance
of masculine / feminine energy. Interdependent relationships are
extremely rare but definitely what I'm striving to find and create in my
life someday.

http://www.daviddeida.com.

Bay Area Storytelling festival coming up

This weekend, the Bay Area Storytelling festival returns to a lovely wooded glen in the East Bay. It's an older, more traditional crowd, but I hope I can "shake it up" a little when I get up on the open storytelling stage. The veteran storytellers here are inspiring masters of the form. Come on out, bring your kids, a picnic, a big blanket and a wide sunhat.