Cracked Open/Fill the Void

I'm thinking about well regulated behavoir - well more than that really, that sounds so much like school, something to be graded.  What I'm thinking about and struggling with, is how I can move through stages of my life with more grace and less trauma.  It still comes down to how we manage change and relationships.  Where I get stuck is in trying to get my needs met and then clinging too hard, like a barnacle on a mussel, when I find someone who nourishes my hungry soul.

This last week we rolled out the new Evanston Creative Writing Group.   It went from conception to reality in 24 hours. The first meetup is scheduled for 9/14 and it's full with a waiting list - wow!  It appears we have instant success without a whole lot of effort.  I thought about the current group and the leadership and what lessons could be learned.  One of the leaders is an extraordinary woman with vision, passion, humor, intelligence and a ton of wonderful qualities.  She has though, one serious flaw, in my my opinion - her hungry need for validation, recognition, adulation, etc.  She uses her leadership position to fill a void in herself.  As a result, she talks too much about herself and her achievements, forces her wishes and agendas on an unwilling audience, and is defensive and gets hurt when she perceives anything that smacks of criticism. I am struck by this and reminded of when Kaveh told me a good therapist has a solid home life where his needs are met, he takes good care of himself.   When he enters a session, he doesn't bring his own needs to the doctor/patient relationship. As far as the new writing group goes, I think the leadership team is a good one (James, Liza and me).  None of us come to the leadership role with anything other than the desire to facilitate a good writing group - we don't need adulation, kudos, strokes.  We just want some serious, creative writing time in a group setting where we can be inspired by the creativity of others - no unconscious agendas.

Before Kaveh, I was never attached to anyone but my children and I've done a spotty job with them. The idea of surrendering to someone, lowering defenses, becoming vulnerable, allowing myself to be hurt, was terrifying and disgusting to me. Why would ANYONE want to open themselves up in that way? - stupid fools! The first years of our relationship were spent in a ridiculous bug dance - I would open up, he would hurt me, I would become furious with him and insult him, I would leave him, I would be bereft, he would woo me back, I would cry and vow to break the cycle and then we would do it all over again in a few months, exactly the same. I never thought the pattern would be broken.  I remember a dream I had about being held hostage by Kaveh in a small house in the country, he went to the bathroom.  Seeing my chance to escape I jumped out the window, only to have him pull me back by my legs, furious.

Kaveh knew what he was doing, that in time I would have enough trusting history with him to try something new.  And sure enough, now, when we fight, I mentally fast forward to the part where I tell him how hurt I am and we talk. We now talk only once a week (it used to be 3X/week) - I no longer cling to him.  I know he cares deeply about me, that he will rush to me if I need his help and something new, I respect his boundaries. There was a time I thought we'd never get here. I've come so far.  Here is a piece I wrote during the dark days.

"How long will you be gone?" she had asked accusingly.

"Eighteen days."

"That's irresponsible.  You can't leave for that long..you're needed," she had said.

"You'll be fine," he had said.

But she wasn't.  Each day she wilted a bit more.  Everything faded, first her smile, missing.  Her brow perpetually furrowed, her eyes, listless.  She stopped speaking - almost mute.  It was Christmas - she cared not.  He was gone and her life was on hold, an out of body experience, floating aimlessly over the fetivities, watching other people scurrying to and fro, buying gifts, parties, cocktails, singing , toasts, cozy family times.  None of it mattered.  He was gone.

Each day she bought him a gift.  He hated when she bought him gifts.  Solemnly, she wrapped each present and added it to the growing pile.  Only the best for him: Iranian caviar; civet coffee from Indonesia, harvested from the feces of civet cats who partially digested the beans and gave them an indescribably mellow flavor - $300/lb; jasmine tea in little compressed balls with a jasmine flower in the center that would burst open when he added boiling water; ginger cookies, thin as parchment made by Moravians in North Carolina; Callisson D'aix from France; salt water taffy from Atlantic City; ribbon candy filled with peanut butter from the Boston Candy Company, ironically located in upper state New York, Martha Stewart's favorite.

Eighteen gifts for him - he would love them all and hate that she bought them.  She wasn't well.  Gift giving was an act of desperation, something she did when she was inseure and angry, as if to say, "I dare you to leave me!"

He returned.  He opened.  He sighed at the sheer volume.  

"Next year if you don't want eighteen presents from me, don't leave me for eighteen fucking days!" she said fiercely.

Where I'm going with this post is thinking about where I've come from and where I'm going emotionally. Not having what other people get early in life, healthy attachment and role models for how a person can weather change gracefully and intact, I need to figure much of this out now.  I'm starting to suspect other people have been gifted with some deep inner strength that was breathed and kissed into them early early in their lives - it lives inside them, ready to be drawn upon when needed.  And I'm starting to appreciate that, what was once a huge empty space inside me, has begun to be filled in recent years.  Once I stopped hiding and protecting the void, people came forth with offerings to fill it, they saw the need and were drawn to it.   

The challenge today is to consider whether or not there is a gaping hole in your heart.  If you have had a "normal" life you will probably decide you are lucky - you got what you needed as a child, you have a solid core - you are not a hollow chocolate bunny like some of us.   If you are a hollow bunny, are you ready to let someone like Kaveh crack you open?  Can you surrender to being a needy mess for a while and asking for help?

Peace,

Sarah