Some days...

Two things I value a lot, intimacy and the capacity for joy, didn't seem to be on anyone else's list. I felt like the stranger in a strange land, and decided I'd better not marry the natives.

Richard Bach

(1936)

Common wisdom tells us that we have everything we need within us to be fulfilled and happy. That we'd better not rely on anything or anyone external for any of what is truly important as we enter and leave the world alone, and that being self-contained and free of attachment is where peace and contentment are to be found. I believe this too. Fundamentally I agree that we are responsible for our own state of being, growth, happiness, etc. I accept that we cannot depend on something outside of ourselves in order to feel whole. I embrace this independence. I revel in it even. I love that I am able to, and do, survive and even thrive, alone. There is a thrill in that knowledge. It's empowering.

And I know that I am even luckier than this. Because I am not alone in the world. I have the capacity to love. There are people in the world that I love deeply. And I am loved. Not everyone can claim it and I do not take for granted what this means. If being self-contained is all we need, then extending ourselves into the world through caring connections with others is surely a bonus: the beautiful wrapping on a gift, the extra dollop of cream on a jam scone... something that adds to and enhances an already lovely thing. More.

I am one of the lucky ones. I have all I need. Enough. And more.

For all this, and believe me this is not a whinge, just an observation, it feels sometimes like something is missing. Or, that I miss something. Perhaps that's a better way of putting it.

Recently I've experienced a couple of intense 'alone in a crowd' moments. The crowds were not just groups of strangers either, although some in them were less well known to me than others. But, for the most part these were people I like, love even, feel connected to. And yet, there I was, feeling in some ways completely detached from everyone. Separate. And in that moment I felt not whole and self-contained, I just felt suddenly very alone, and lonely.

I have independence, and I would not give it up for all the world, but what I miss is intimacy. Every day intimacy.

Intimacy. The deepest connection and sharing that two people can experience. Something that transcends the norm of human interaction, touches us most deeply, and yet is expressed sometimes in the smallest and almost incidental of ways. A mixture of closeness, familiarity, affection, acceptance, and knowing. The everyday details of lives shared, layered onto true connection and understanding. I miss it.

And I am not just talking about physical intimacy. Although I miss that too, and most especially the small gestures - the hand on the small of my back, on the nape of my neck, holding hands in the supermarket, sitting head-to-toe on the sofa with books in hand, a for-no-obvious-reason hug in the kitchen, the don't-worry-we'll-get-through-it-together embrace, good-bye and hello kisses... the little things.

What I miss even more though is the conversational intimacy - the first good morning, the chats over coffee, in passing as we prepare for our working day or wind down after one, over evening meals, in the car, post dinner party or movie reviews, late night thoughts shared, a last goodnight.... Incidental observations, big ideas, heartfelt dreams - sharing thoughts and feelings. Big and small. And the shorthand of being able to convey in a turn of phrase, a word, a punctuating noise, a facial expression or a well-known gesture more than all the words that are being said could ever say alone. Most of all, I miss those conversations that happen in a split second when eyes meet across a crowd, a smile is shared, or an eyebrow raised, and no words are necessary at all.

Independence and intimacy: I don't believe they need to be mutually exclusive. With the right person, they can co-exist quite happily. I have enjoyed both, together. And perhaps that's my lot. I count myself still one of the lucky ones.

Independence I have. Intimacy, no. I don't need it. I would not foresake my independence for it. But I miss it nevertheless.

Some days.

[Flickr credits]