So we prove “I don’t need you”
We fill our lives with other priorities
And we try to escape our sadness,
our anger, our sabotage of love. ~ Vivian Green
Likes and dislikes, desire and loathing belong to the personal soul of man; duty stands higher than likes and dislikes. Duty may stand so high in the eyes of a man that he will sacrifice his life for its sake. And a man stands the higher the more he has ennobled his inclinations, his likes and dislikes, so that without compulsion or subjection they themselves obey what is recognized as duty. ~ Rudolf Steiner
Sophie was tall and lovely, with a lithe dancer’s body. So, it was no surprise to find out that she had been a professional dancer in a well-known troupe in New York. Primarily of Dutch stock from one of the Caribbean islands, each wave of conquistadores, pirates, tourists, and slaves left its genetic imprint on the island. Like a tropical drink with its mix of various fruits, rum, vodka, and tequila, each subtle difference in flavour excited a different facet of intoxication. That is how I experienced Sophie, under intoxication.
I regarded the physical body as an object to be mastered, to be forced to perform even when it was resistant or fatigued. To that end, I had filled up notebooks with records of exercises, weights, reps, and sets. I counted grams of daily protein intake and carefully selected supplements. For Sophie, however, the body was a means of self-expression. She had a soothing voice and was always kind to people. Physical therapy was a natural fit for her personality and skill set.
Although we travelled in the same circles, we had never gotten together on a personal level. I subsequently learned that others had expected it, like the marriage of the Sun and the Moon. Pure intellect and pure intuition. The hard and the soft, the closed and the open. Not as easy as it sounds. The sentimental version of love is too often regarded as the only authentic version.
The Sun and the Moon
The Moon likes it because it feels good. The Sun likes it because it is good. Even though the light and heat of the Sun feels good, the Sun asks, “Do you feel safe and secure in my light?” Then the Sun disappears for a time so that the Moon can come out and play. But the Moon understands that she is reflecting the Sun’s light, and is reassured when the Sun reappears in the morning.
A man following the Solar Path, the Way of the Warrior, must first of all provide for the safety, security, and comfort of those he loves. That might not always feel good, but it guarantees that the good times will come. There is a season for every activity under the heavens. A man will die for a woman to show his love, he will kill for her and spare her the details. Hence, he is right to choose carefully, and spare the sentimentality.
I learned to play all the girl games: candlelight, outdoor cafes overlooking the sea, cool jazz clubs, walks in the forest, massage, dancing in the moonlight, perfumes, jewellery; those are great if you need a sex toy. But more than that? Someone to rub your feet when you’re cold, make soup when you’re sick, listen to your gripes, or do a work he dislikes to keep you secure?
Natalia, an old friend now living a continent away, contacted me out of the blue. We started chatting every night, very pleasant, more and more flirtatious. But she was experiencing difficulties, her husband was estranged, and she was alone. One night, she called in despair. In between the tears, I heard all her fears, worries, anxieties, feelings of helplessness, without interfering. Then she turned on me. At that point, I interjected, “who in the world could you have this conversation with?” That thought stunned her, and she calmed down, admitting there was no one else. Not her father, not her husband, not her friends, nor the mailman nor the butcher.
A confident man does not need reassurance. Like a Taoist sage, he acts, he does the right thing, without expectation of results.
Anubis
There comes a time when a man must evaluate his life in the face of coming judgment. But how do you reduce a lifetime of events to a single weight? For that to happen, then the unifying factor of one’s life must be found. The seemingly random sequence of events of life need to be reimagined as the manifestation of one Self. That is what is judged, but where exactly is it, or, better said, who is he?
The human being is unique in the cosmos because only he can experience both good and evil. Animals follow instinct. An angel is either all good or all evil, but never a mixture of both. Yet we treat each other as if we were angels, and not the mix that we truly are.
In the time of a pandemic, I have begun the process of deleting old emails. There are so many people with whom I have interacted over the years, so it is an effort to find a common thread. In particular, I found the correspondence with Sophie, which I have been reliving for the past week. The memories have been all too vivid, as much as I would have liked them to fade away.
Reconnecting
I used to run a seminar on nondualilty and tradition at a nearby metaphysical bookstore on Friday evenings. I was surprised when Sophie started attending. Afterwards we would chat in the parking lot, often for a long time. I eventually asked her out, but, to my surprise, she declined. Nevertheless, she recommended a movie that I should see. I was surprised again when she sent this email later that night:
Let me know when you see the bleep. I plan to see it again so it will be fresh in my mind for exchange of ideas with you. Have a great day my auld acquaintance 🙂
Early in the morning that was followed up with this:
Did I invite myself? I was born with a certain kind of courage to do such bold things, then I feel really nervous. I must like to put myself on the edge.
Little did she know how little courage was required. I would have pulled her in a rickshaw to bring her to the movie theatre. So we made arrangements to meet later in the afternoon and have dinner afterwards.
The Puppy Dog Look
It was a festive occasion, just three days before Christmas. The street was ablaze with holiday decorations, shoppers shopping, tourists gawking, and new lovers getting ready to face the unknown. We found a nice place for a meal al fresco. She told me how sad I looked when she rejected my date request; that had made quite an impression on her. I was surprised that she was able to penetrate my usual poker face; that woman had forced me to reveal my vulnerability.
The reason, it turned out, is that she was in a relationship — a little detail that she had neglected to mention in the past month. But it wasn’t working out for her, and she was trying to move on. Now it was getting ordinary, as I had heard that story before. They all had a boyfriend or a husband who disappointed them. I recall nothing of that conversation and I wasn’t going to act like her gay friend to commiserate with her. It is called “monkey branching” when a woman holds onto one relationship while looking for a better one. I was already the “better one”, so I did not need to make a case. I decided to just let things unfold.
The Unfolding
The following Sunday she stopped by my house unexpectedly in the afternoon while I was tending to my patio garden. We went inside and I tried to clean up. Although I did not understand her intention, we ended up in bed. Then she asked me to stop. She felt too weak to stop herself but she needed to take care of something that night. So I stopped and let her leave.
I later found her thong wrapped up in the sheets, as if to lay claim to that side of the bed. Women are much closer to the material than I am. They often leave souvenirs behind, such as a blouse in the closet or makeup in the bathroom. On the other side, they seem to like men’s long-sleeved button-down shirts. Perhaps a scent lingers or psychic residues from the astral body adhere to the shirt.
A couple of days later, she called me to let me know that she had broken up with her boyfriend on Sunday night. I suppose it would by cynical to suppose that she wanted to ensure a safe landing spot before she moved on. I don’t begrudge that, and perhaps it is the sensible thing to do. Then we made a date for the upcoming Saturday at her townhouse.
The Consummation
On Saturday afternoon, I discovered an unexpected dimension to Sophie. She showed me her nice garden where she raised orchids. In her yard, she explained that her experience of an orgasm was like, for her, like experiencing God. Then she made this promise, “I am willing to explore anything sexual that you want.”
Then my mind was racing. Was this one of those little tests that women give, for which the response, no matter how trivial, can make or break a relationship. Was she trying to find out if I was too kinky? Or rather too ordinary. I am rather conventional in that area, yet still experienced enough to ensure she would receive her god-experience. I requested her to do the Egyptian alma dance for me. That has a double meaning, since “alma” also means soul.
Her meaning became clearer when she showed me her hot tub. She revealed that she enjoys playing with women, just kissing and fondling breasts. She had no interest in anything below the waist, so she reassured me that she was not a lesbian. I don’t believe that there is a special letter for that particular orientation. I assumed, then, that taking care of things below the waist would be my responsibility; I would worry about it at the appropriate time.
That night we bonded and I left the next morning.
The Beginning of the End
At 11 PM the following Friday, she called me, in a panic. She said she had been at an outdoor concert in my hometown, accompanied with her supposedly ex-boyfriend, to celebrate her birthday. She was really concerned that I might have been there and seen them together. Ordinarily, I might not have been too concerned about her meeting an old friend on his birthday, at least if she had told me in advance.
But in this case, the guilt in her voice was disconcerting. If she thought it was the wrong thing to do, then why did she do it? She did not answer. Nor did she ask me if I was happy to discover that she was still involved with her ex. We agreed to talk in the morning.
Finis
Overnight, she had decided to go on the offensive. She called me controlling. I told her that her actions could have humiliated me if a family member, a friend, or a business associate had seen them together. Her spontaneity was more important to her than anything else. She broke our date for that night, with the lame excuse that she needed to work on her taxes.
From her initial promise to be sexually available, she suddenly decided to control access. I don’t know why she became so cold; she had moved from one relationship to another too quickly.
I had to make the quick and unpleasant decision. Would I be willing to risk life and fortune for this relationship?
Of course not, so I told her that our relationship was over. She was shocked. Desirable women often believe their decisions have no consequences. They’ve learned that they can manipulate men, because they can and they have.
She said that she was glad it was over so soon before someone would get hurt.
She was hurt.
It couldn’t be helped. Or I can’t see how it could have turned out differently.
Coda
A few months later, I sent her some books that she wanted, and included her thong in the box. After several more months, I got this reply:
I was not able to thank you at the time you sent them because my heart was still too closed to appreciate the gift fully. You are one of the amazing minds in my life, and I feel feelings of kindness towards you.
This was my final response:
You are a remarkable woman, Sophie, in a way that I can only feel in the depths of my heart, and any attempt at articulation would be inadequate. It suffices for me to know that you exist and that we did get to spend some time together.
I have since learned to love from afar, but not up close;
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Moreover, the intent is not to promote imitation of behaviour, but rather to show how to place life events into a larger whole. The narrator explained to Sophie:
They say that, for some, celibacy is a higher calling … is that true or is it merely a higher evasion? But it may be best for me … seems better than my adding to the world’s supply of woe.
So he knew that was the end game. However, at that point in his life, there will still too many pieces on the chessboard to consider it.