In relationships, we must practice active and deliberate connection, in large and small ways, in order to not get stuck in the tumescent gap and be able to live our relationships at the level of art.
The tumescent gap in a relationship will present in various ways: subtle insecurity seeking proof of connection; a felt sense of resistance in coming back together; a low-grade fear of abandonment or betrayal; a subtle introduction of irritation and blocking; an internal pull or grip for the other person; an unspoken but energetic demand; checking out; neglect or ignoring; a complaint that cannot be appeased.
Our primary tendency in the face of these behaviors, both overt and covert, is avoidance, withdrawal, blame, or fixing. To be stuck in the tumescent gap is to have the initial tumescent behaviors arise, have them met by an opposing response, and have that cycle continue ad infinitum.
We find ourselves on a pendulum swinging between enmeshment and solitude. That swinging back and forth where we are either too full with enmeshment or too empty with solitude, ends up consuming most of our resources.
Eros invites us to live in connected solitude, where we sit inside of the spaciousness of our interior world, in sustained connection with the external world. In this scenario, when we are away from a person, we bring them with us—in our thoughts, in energetic connection, in a deliberate communication that space and time does not separate.
They are here. When we are with them—immersed in the deep space of ourselves, and in connection with the infinite—we can be in rooms of deep intimacy, connected with them through silence or activity, without either person losing their sense of self.
We relinquish withholding our time, expression, affection, enthusiasm, and truth, and the natural byproduct is opening a space of greater reception. Fear in relationship is always fear of loss. "I will lose myself," or "I will lose them." Eros invites us to live on the axis; to paradoxically lose both in order to have both. It may require a small leap of faith, but we can feel inside how true this is.
People return to where we are most free. Liberation of self and other is what would most hold a relationship together so we aim for this, not out of generosity but out of simple effectiveness. It should be noted though, that liberation of self and other is intensive and difficult work. This is not an instruction to avoid work in any way. In fact, it is an instruction to drive into the center of the nearly impossible and insurmountable work that true relationship really takes.
Conversely, the work necessary to be in a relationship that is stuck in the tumescent gap, while exhausting, does not require much of us. This kind of relationship can exist for a lifetime on default settings. The work of true relationship, however, requires endless excavation, resourcefulness, willingness, and curiosity.
But when done right, the work of relationship is so fascinating, as we acquire a value-neutral understanding of our own system, that we will never want to stop the work. Our relationships become a canvas to discover the beauty of our interior world interacting with what's outside of it, and what births in that process.
There are three levels of relationship. The first is catch up and prove. Here, we are in a perpetual state of subtle testing or proving ourselves. The energy that would go to relaxing into or co-creating instead goes to these two activities.
The second is maintenance. We are committed to working on this relationship. We do the work to see our part, to be thoughtful, to benefit the person we care about, and to feel confident in their care. This comes with some, but not much, fear of the unknown. A basic agreement of goodness is set into place, and our relationship is one of sanctuary—a place where we go when life is difficult to find comfort and the security of knowing that at least one person is there for us, who cares about us, and who we can rely and depend on. The relationship itself is like a spinning top that only needs a slight touch to adjust it every now and then. It does not occur as a great deal of work. And, the work that it requires feels rewarding.
And third, we agree to live into the Mystery of another human being and to permit all-access entry into ours as well. There is no territory or behavior that is off-limits, as we agree to explore the fullness of our being. In consensual agreement, we work with the habit of possessiveness in order to dispense with the notion that something could be lost that might prevent us from offering the Mystery that arises from within ourself. The primary agreement we make is that at the moment form starts to concretize and restrict growth, we dissolve it.
Our own desire is to be a vehicle of freedom for each other, a reflection for the other person to witness themselves, see how they operate, know truth, speak the unspeakable, face loss, and maintain connection irrespective of perceived rights and desires. The nature of this relationship is to both give and receive everything with the willingness always to surrender in the name of connection itself. We are preemptive, proactive, and anticipatory of any place we or the other person would either disconnect or attempt to merge, both of which—and in equal proportion—kill relationship. Even if the other person does nothing, we're agreeing to do all of this that is necessary, because we recognize a deeper truth.
People in bondage will always be an obstacle. Free people will always add to our flow. It is not personal; it is that free people are all answering to one voice: the freedom in Eros. Through intimacy, Eros calls all free people to be in dynamic movement, moving together in the same direction. That direction is to help remove the bondage of those who are not yet free on their terms. There simply is nothing else.
