There was a time back in January (after our second date but before our third), as I mention here, when D and I spent hours on the phone at night. A lot of the time we would start by talking about what had happened in her day and my day, but generally we would gravitate to reviewing and analyzing her latest conversation with Wife, and we would end up probing each other’s childhoods and histories, beliefs and values, fairly deeply. After several of these conversations, D wrote to me one day:
Have you ever given thought about what we are constructing as we talk for hours? I initially thought we would weave together a bower where we both could rest, and occasionally, you will add philosophy or Shakespeare, I will add art and music to adorn our dwelling. But most of the time, we seem to push each other forward, not without laughter, as though we were building a boat for a journey neither of us expected to take. Perhaps we can only build a place of rest when we are together, locked in the intimacy of our love. I'm not sure. But given my love for sailing and all the skill it requires and the freedom it brings, I quietly celebrate our conversations. Your thoughts?
Now actually I had never thought about the question at all, much less framed it in those terms. So I answered her:
As for what we are building, ... no, I have to admit the question never occurred to me -- at any rate not in that form -- and I have had to puzzle a bit over the images. I think I got the bower first, it being something like what our conversations used to be like, ... back before. Because yes, then we would indeed talk about philosophy or art or history or literature ... or theology, always theology ..., and it would be a delightful way to spend an afternoon.
It is also true that our conversations lately have pushed harder, as we have asked more about each other. How did this work back when you were a child? Why did you think that? Does this other story you have told me fit into the picture here or over there?
But a boat? Hmm ... hadn't thought of that. If I had thought of any image at all, I guess it would have been a jigsaw puzzle....
I also have to pause a moment at the idea that we can build a place of rest when we are together. Can we? :-) I think we haven't yet. Admittedly we haven't been together much, and most recently the circumstances were a little weird. [I was referring, of course, to the whole framework of our second date.] But even if you narrow the scope to just our lovemaking, I would characterize it far more readily as "energetic" than as "restful" .... Maybe we will get to a point where the fever is a little less intense, and where the bed can look more like a bower. Today, though, I would agree that a bower is not quite where we find ourselves.
Unsurprisingly, D saw resonances in my imagery of which I had been totally unaware.
Puzzles have always been slightly horrifying after watching "Citizen Kane", where they become a sign and symbol of his second wife's misery and loneliness. Given that the entire movie is really comprised of many puzzle pieces, with "Rosebud" as the last, Freudian piece that gives a certain strained meaning to a picture that is richer than it realizes, puzzles have seemed a little ominous as a metaphor for a developing relationship. Sailing is another matter altogether.... [It] is an intense pleasure, not to be missed (the Scouts have a branch of their organization which is entirely devoted to sailing, and I strongly urge Son 1 to consider the Navy rather than the Air Force if he wants to fly; it is just much more pleasant to be on board ship than stationed on land). I realize that sailing is like a drug; you just can't get enough if you learn to love it, which explains why I never bought a boat as an adult; I'd spend too money and time to capture the feeling you get running in front of the wind at eight knots on a warm day off the coast. The mixture of icy water from [the north] and warm, dry air [from the shore] makes sailing almost perfect where [I grew up as a girl], and the skill demanded to handle a boat effectively is considerable; the winds can be changeable, the sea mysterious. The idea of building a boat, with good purpose, laughter and song, is very appealing. One day, with God's grace, we will reach the open sea...with some charts and the stars ahead.
Passion, rather than rest. Yes, I understand and agree. Perhaps our passion will be transmuted in some other way, but I suspect that our relationship will always have a certain surging and restless quality. I would not trade what we have for a certain stillness...however attractive peace and repose seem at times.
But last night, I would have gladly just curled up in your arms and loved you in silence and slowly, just cherishing who you are and how you look and feel. Time for both images, it seems.
I don’t know why I am posting this exchange, or what I want you to understand from it, but the imagery is so striking that I can’t help myself. I am so glad that I have a smart girlfriend with a restless and active mind. And of course I would love it if someday I could persuade her to take me sailing ....
Ogham Readings on Saturdays
1 day ago
2 comments:
A richly appointed treasure chest of metaphors, perhaps unearthed from a secret bower, and placed aboard ship to sail away. Puzzling at times ...
Besides the enrichment of your readers, I think you were wise to post this simply because it deserves preservation.
I often feel that way about D's writing ... it bafflesd me that she thinks she is a pedestrian writer.
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