I have never had a problem being very frank in my writing. Bare honesty is where my interest lies. Right now, however, even my journal gets only the most factual of entries. What I am embarking upon is so complex in the emotional realm, and so vastly different from any territory I have tread upon before, that I find myself too immersed to be able to start writing it. To write my stories right now would take more time and energy than I can imagine.
"Once upon a time, sometime last week..."
It is easy to imagine that much of my writing will be focusing on the ins and outs of polyamory in the near (to far out) future. I am at work with two others building a foundation we hope will withstand years of wear and tear. I cannot help but laugh over and over at the serendipity and absurdity. It is absurd to have some dreams come true, but not unrealistic. I feel my life is a funny fairy tale right now that listeners would have to settle down comfortably for because this is no short yarn. I move laterally, never linear.
Let me just say a few things then, so that when I can coalesce some better linguistic talents here I won't have to start way the hell back at the beginning; that time being now.
The level of personal accountability is as high as it can be in a non-life threatening situation. I, and my partners becoming, must speak up, as soon as possible, about any "ick" feeling that arises. If I feel myself shrinking from sight it is not my job at that moment to figure out why, but to say, "Hey, I'm disconnecting!" so that there can be an intervention (i.e. extreme cuddling) which brings me back into the room, my body, and my strength.
I see everything in cycles. I like connecting time in rings, like those that might form from a pebble dropped on water. There are rings now that are finally dissipating which began years ago when I first exploring my self knowledge. I have done a lot of hard work in the last several years to wipe away the destructive mechanisms that were once protective measures. Some work you cannot accomplish on your own though, and these two gifts in my life are going help propel me into a plane of complete trust in myself. I will seek out the invasive weeds of doubt, inferiority, and fear and confront them with immense frequency because I must, if I truly want this foundation to hold.
I honestly could go on about the growth, change, and rending that my psyche is and will undergo all night, because the development and maintenance of internal human strength is hugely interesting to me. This information touches every part of meaning that I hold, from the ego plane on which I function daily, to the deeply wise spiritual plane that guides me quietly. I am holding back though. Since I have been spending many, many hours in a row confronting even the tiniest of insecurities I lean toward wanting to spill it out here too and let you readers do what you will with it. However, some secrets are kept only for the pleasure of savoring them, and this may be one of those times.
I keep wanting to pinch myself, to see if this is actually happening. Am I actually in the germination stages of forming an intimate, compassionate community with strangers? Am I actually entering a triad? Actually planning a future with other people? I keep wanting to pinch myself, but if the physical strain and pleasure that I endured last night didn't wake me up, then I must not be dreaming.