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Intimacy

Intimacy

“Intimacy begins with yourself.
The depth of intimacy you are able to share with any apparent other is a direct reflection of the depth of intimacy you have with yourself.
So learn to Love yourself, this is the ‘One True Love’ you are looking for outside.
And you will never find it out there, for it is within you first that you must come to know it.
Discover your Self, drink of yourself, and all else will follow.”
~Anonymous

***

Here I am, laying like the Vitruvian man, like a starfish, spread out on the sand. The sound of waves crashing on the shoreline washes over me like a sonic massage to my ear drums. Birds of prey soar above me in a limitless sky of perfected blueness. The soft Goan breeze brushes against my skin like angel wing feathers soothing every cell of this body which is my home. My mind is completely still, like a vacuous nothingness so empty it fills the Cosmos with limitless space. Every cell in my being is calm, as though all the trillions of them are singing lullabies to drift one another into dreamtime, but holding back just a breath from sleep. There is a notion of light, like a would-be light, radiating like a far away sun between my eyes. I am aware of everything, and everything is aware of me. It is as though I am making love to the sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between without moving a muscle. I am at ease, and I am aware of my Self.

I am nothing, and I am everything.

I am that; that I am.

I am it; it is I.

You can leave me here forever, and you do, for there is neither here nor there, whilst And there is both here and there.

This is the best that I can do today to explain with the word what it feels like to be me, when I’m my Self. And because I have given it name, I have given it form, and so it is not really my Self that I have spoken of. I have spoken of smoke in a mirror of myself. And still, this speaking points towards who I really am, and so I speak.

***

And in walks thought. “What shall I eat for dinner?” The mundanity of the intruder makes me laugh. The choice occurs, do I play with the form? Do I follow it down it’s endless pathways? Visions of creamy spinach sauces with glistening chunks of Indian cheese bathing in rich buttery fat that’s green and vibrant in its glory. Do I follow the bread crumb trail into the world of things, of senses, of pulling and pushing, of wanting and resisting, of black and white and everything in between? Or do I drop it, and return to the Infinite? What about both? What does he have to say about it? 500 rupees says he walks away with the chapatti shamelessly.

***

What does it feel like to be Intimate with yourself?

For me it feels like being on the best date I could imagine. It feels like witnessing the Whole of me. All the limited aspects of myself, And the Infinite Godhead of my Self all at once. It feels like looking in the mirror and feeling profound respect and love for the Being, both physical and intangible looking back at me from those big blue-green nebulous eyes. For me it feels like trusting myself completely. Trusting myself to listen to the signs my body gives me, like subtle waves in different centres of my being. To listen to the countless signs the apparently outside world brings me, like serpents slithering past my path or strangers eyes that shimmer in ways I know I’ve seen before. For me it feels like knowing that wherever I am, I am never alone, because I am there with me. That I am the child, the adolescent , the adult and the elder all co-working to hold this sacred space for my blissful exploration of what it feels like to be me. It feels like honouring my instincts, consciously discerning what is intuition, what is fear, what is conditioning and making choices that serve my greatest capacity for happiness and fulfilment in every moment.

Intimacy with myself feels like Absolute Freedom, knowing that no one can take my Self away from me, and so I am both independent and completely interdependent with a Whole so completely perfected that the wildest fantasies my thought constructing mental faculties can produce could never even come close to pinning down, boxing in, or putting to words. It feels like trusting in God and relaxing into Being the Goddess, the manifesting Divine mother of all Life. It feels like Love. It feels both like elation and Absolute un-phased relaxation. It feels like the yin-yang symbol projecting itself from within my belly to guide my little self home, to Om. To Him. To Her. And the baby they made of pure Love.

Intimacy with myself feels like the kind of safety and security of the Ultimate Warrior. It feels like being caught by First Mother and First Father, and thus being able to forgive the ones who conceived my physical structure for their trespasses against me. It feels like forgiving the trespasses I have made upon myself and all other.

It feels like a french kiss in soft rain in the belly of an old growth Cedar. Like being held by a lover, only the lover is Me. Like being held by arms that are both not mine and mine all at once. So that every gaze, every word spoken, every hand shake, every check-out interaction, is a miraculous exchange between me and God himself. Like being penetrated deep into my being by the Cosmic witnessing Absolute, all with the texture of the smoothness God begot of the phallus’ skin.

And still I go on forgetting. And wondering what I will have for dinner. Sacrificing my time to fantasy of cardamom sprinkled over espresso with perfectly foamed milky goodness made of the jewels of the coconut tree topped with a dollop of honey….

And isn’t that the magic of it all anyways. That I have come by the Blessing of being able to forget, so I may remember. Isn’t that the Intelligence of the Creator? Taking a point and making it two, and thus making three, the 1, the 2, and then now the relationship between them, becoming three, becoming Infinity, and thus me. Inciting the Journey, the great Mystery. So we can explore what it feels like to be intimate at all? For how could it be that we could know ourselves, if we could not also not know ourselves? For me, that is the Beauty of Intimacy. That I was clever enough in the first place to risk unfathomable suffering, Knowing well that the Bliss of Knowing my Self must Be. Intimacy with myself feels Free.

Comments 2

  1. Tamara, you have written with your characteristic depth and insight. It is a gift for me as your mother to witness your falling into deep intimate love with yourself. So young to have such wisdom that this self love is the key to fully loving the world and the Divine. Your creation was birthed from love of the infinite! I feel so blessed to have been chosen as the vehicle to carry and nourish your baby earthly body and all the moments of change and transformation along the way. I love you so much! ❤️

    1. Post
      Author

      Wow Maman, thank you for your words. I am blessed to have come from such a powerful Woman, guided to become one myself. Sharing this journey of spiritual expansions has been incredible! Well worth the challenges.

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