<p>ⓒ Richard Levitte</p>
http://journal.richard.levitte.org/tags/reflections/Richard Levitte's journalikiwiki2013-03-14T03:21:21ZBelonging...http://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/belonging/2013-03-14T03:21:21Z2013-03-14T01:25:22Z
<p>For a few days now, I've been trying to find what the essential
quality of a committed relationship, being together, is to me.</p>
<p>I've often expressed how "being together" contains components
like a willingness to spend time together more than you would
otherwise, a willingness to share your lives with each others, a
willingness to express and accept some expectations from each
others, a hightened connection... and while these components are
important, and while there is a need to talk about them in a new
relationship, they don't really reach the depth of what being
together really mean, to me. They don't explain the excruciating
pain of a close and important relationship that comes to an end,
this feeling of having parts of your guts ripped out of your
body.</p>
<p>A friend and I talked earlier today, and while I can't quite
remember how this came about, there's this one word that stuck to
my mind. It's a word I know very well, I've heard it before... and
yet, I've kept forgetting it, I've kept forgetting its
existence.</p>
<p><strong>Belonging</strong></p>
<p>Belonging with someone(s), this quality that fills my heart and
my body... and leaves a hole when the relationship ends.</p>
<p>Why has it taken all this time to accept this word (or has it,
have I just forgotten?)? I can't really say for sure now, but...
I've shied from expressions like "you're mine", "I'm yours" before,
in fear of feeling caged in, in fear of having my oh so important
freedom taken away from me. But really, this sense of belonging
doesn't really say more than that. It doesn't automatically mean
that you have to act according to certain standards. It doesn't
inherently mean exclusivity, living in the same home, spending all
evenings together. The choice of what we want to do together, with
each others, is still a choice, something to express and agree
upon.</p>
<p>I think I'm finally realising that expressing a sense of
belonging doesn't take away my freedom. It doesn't change my
actions, my reasoning, my emotions. It's simply a quality of how I
feel when I'm with somebody.</p>
Mirrors...http://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/mirrors/2011-10-01T15:00:50Z2011-10-01T14:32:42Z
<p><em>A propos a friend who didn't like his image in the
mirror</em></p>
<p><a href=
"http://brookecrossley.tumblr.com/post/4928023100"><img src=
"http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lk7rvjwivx1qhu7bio1_500.jpg"
title=
"WARNING: Reflections in this mirror may be distorted by socially constructed ideas of 'beauty'"
alt=
"WARNING: Reflections in this mirror may be distorted by socially constructed ideas of 'beauty'" /></a></p>
<p>'nuff said.</p>
Thinking about...http://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/thinking-about/2011-07-08T09:49:00Z2011-07-08T09:49:00Z
<p>In a forum I frequent too much, someone asked about thinking
about his partner, and if he did that too much.</p>
<p>It's really a silly question, but it did prompt me to think
about it still... after all, it depends on what you mean. Think
intensively, as you would with a task or an issue? Or simply have
in your mind, like a presence that's simply there?</p>
<p>I could easily say that I'm thinking of you all the time.<br />
I could just as easily say that I'm not thinking so much about
you.<br />
It would all be true either way.</p>
Sometimes, the calm worries mehttp://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/sometimes-calm-worries-me/2011-05-07T16:11:00Z2011-05-07T16:11:00Z
<p>There are moments when calm, like a close person that seems very
calm, or calmness per se worries me... scares me, even. It's like
if I get into it, and go into calmness myself, will others
(specially whose close to me) get borde and go away? Or even worse,
will <em>I</em> get bored and walk away???</p>
<p>At the same time, I <em>like</em> the calm, quite much so!
Stillness, mmmmm.</p>
<p>Talking about it with <a href="http://journal.richard.levitte.org/people/UlE/" rel=
'friend kin met'>Ulrika</a>, I get to realise that this may be
about what I know and therefore am comfortable with... and what I
know best is drama. With my mother, things can be calm, can be
peaceful... until something doesn't go her way, that's when there's
a certain amount of drama... and I'm realising that this is what
I'm used to, this is something I've grown up with and am pretty
deeply affected by. (and maybe it's no wonder that most people I've
had a relationship have a certain amount of drama in them, it's
within my comfort zone)</p>
<p>So, when I'm close with someone who seems pretty damn calm,
almost rock solid, I do worry sometimes... maybe there's a small
part of me that wonders when there's going to be a dramatic
outburst... or that wonders when this joyful is going to end... and
I will probably have to remind myself a little now and then that
this is outside my weird comfort zone, that it's something that I
will simply have to learn to enjoy and trust without worry, that
it's worth it. Some day, I might find that it crept within my
comfort zone <img src="http://journal.richard.levitte.org/tags/reflections/../../smileys/smile4.png" alt=";-)" /></p>
Hugshttp://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/hugs/2010-11-22T07:43:12Z2010-11-21T08:43:29Z
<p>Last weekend, there was a lot of hugging, with people I'd never
met before. I was told I was a great hugger, and apparently got
myself quite a reputation for it. Quite an ego boost, I'll tell
you!</p>
<p>But ego boost aside, what is it, really, that makes a hug great?
Is it really about one hugger being really good at it? Is it
technique? To tell the truth, I strongly doubt that; a great hug
isn't great unless all included participate in the hug, equally.
It's not so much about someone being good at it as it is about all
involved finding a common ground and daring, to whatever level
works. I dare say it's about communication, beyond spoken language,
direct body to body, soul to soul if you will.</p>
<p>I'd say I wasn't a great hugger alone, but <em>we</em> were.
Everyone of us who participated in them.</p>
Easy or not...http://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/not-easy/2010-06-14T18:48:03Z2010-06-14T18:48:03Z
<p>In another place, I've this as part of my presentation:</p>
<div align="center">
<p>Don't go believing I'm easy to deal with, 'cause I'm not<br />
not even to myself</p>
</div>
<p>But sometimes, I wonder if that depends on circumstances, and
what those circumstances do with you.</p>
Pause in relationshipshttp://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/pause-in-relationships/2010-03-28T12:02:27Z2010-03-28T12:02:27Z
<p>It's a little confusing, the notion of putting your relationship
on pause, or is it called "<a href="http://journal.richard.levitte.org/tags/reflections/../../entries/a-break/">taking
a break</a>"?</p>
<p>I mean, saying so means so many things... sometime it's used as
a slow cheap way to break up entirely, sometimes it's used to take
some distance and ponder over the relationship and see what the
next step is. And then, there's simply the pause that noone really
talks about, or maybe even considers as an option.</p>
<p>I heard this story, a few years ago, about the couple who lives
out on the countryside. They are quite decided, as I understand it,
to stick together for a long time if not for life. However, one of
them sometimes needs time of her own, where she lives alone for a
little while (I've no idea what "a little while" was, could be a
week, could be a month, could be April to July). Living on the
countryside, they'd made it easy for both, there's an extra cottage
a bit away from the main house, to which she moves when she needs
her time alone.</p>
<p>I know of many people who would find such an arrangement weird,
this is not how it's supposed to be. I don't, I've lived near
enough people who need time of their own to see that this is a
viable option. I could certainly live with it.</p>
<p>So, when talking about taking a break, or putting the
relationship on pause, maybe some thought should be put into what
it reallt means and why it's desired or needed; what's really going
on, basically.</p>
Silence...http://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/silence/2010-03-17T17:20:39Z2010-03-17T17:18:22Z
<p>I've recently learned that silence is scary in some cases.
Fucking scary. If a person that's (very) close to me and with whom
I usually have a tight connection (even just for chit chats or just
virtual hug) suddenly falls silent, <a href=
"http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/xe">xe</a> "disappears" in my mind,
sails away past the horizon... It takes me a few days to get to
this state of mind with someone that close, but I do get there
eventually...</p>
<p>This is fairly new to me, I can't recall having experienced this
before, not in this manner... or maybe I've exceedingly patient
before and am not any longer? God knows I've been patient to a
point that I was hurting myself, so in a way, it's good that I
sense this these days, that the connections affect me this way.
More... life?</p>
<p>Still, scary.</p>
Views on relationshipshttp://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/views-on-relationships/2010-03-16T10:45:06Z2010-03-16T10:24:36Z
<p>The more I'm living in open relationships, the more my views on
what constitutes a realtionship become nuansed and varied, there
are all kinds of reasons to spend time together and do whatever you
do together.</p>
<p>(oh, I should probably mention that in this text, I'm using the
term "relationship" in a fairly wide manner, so it's not limited by
the idea of "being together"... for example, the classic friendship
is a relationship in this context... still, I'm talking about close
relationships, so it's not as wide as to include coworkers, for
example)</p>
<p>Observing myself lately and thinking back over how I'm relating
with a select nunber of people the last two years, I've identified
a few components that I tend to see in the way I relate with
people...</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>Spending time</em>, <em>Friendship</em>, <em>Play</em>,
<em>Falling/Being in love</em>, <em>Intimacy</em>, <em>A desire to
be together</em>.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>All components aren't necessarely there with each person,
though. For example, it would be quite possible to enjoy spending
time with someone, be friends, enjoy intimacy together but not
being in love or having a desire to be together (<a href=
"http://journal.richard.levitte.org/tags/reflections/#fn:togetherfootnote" id="fnref:togetherfootnote" class="footnote"
name="fnref:togetherfootnote">1</a>). Interestingly enough, some
components do not need to be mutual while others do, at least for
practical purposes (there's a friend that I've fallen in love with
while she hasn't with me, and I feel perfectly fine, have no
problems spending time with her).</p>
<p>While figuring this out, I've become quite conscious of how
selective I can be, while at the same time not. I can play at
different levels with different people and enjoy whatever there is
to enjoy together, that's not being terribly selective in my view.
But then, just because I'm being intimate with someone a few times,
regularly or not, doesn't necessarely mean I've fallen in love or
have a desire for something more committed, that's where I'm being
selective.<br />
I gotta say, though, that when all those components are there,
mutually with the same person(s), sparks fly inside me. Rare gems,
this doesn't happen with everyone. And that's fine.</p>
<div class="footnotes">
<hr />
<ol>
<li id="fn:togetherfootnote">
<p>I should finish up writing about "<span class="createlink">being
together</span>" and publish it at some point... I've this draft
lying about... somewhere...<a href="http://journal.richard.levitte.org/tags/reflections/#fnref:togetherfootnote" class=
"reversefootnote"> ↩</a></p>
</li>
</ol>
</div>
Mother, I'm sorryhttp://journal.richard.levitte.org/entries/mother-I-am-sorry/2009-12-04T11:51:14Z2009-12-04T11:49:45Z
<p>Mother, I'm sorry you had such a tough life.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry you had to be a teen during a horrible war.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry that it has affected you so.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry I can't understand your choices.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry I carry this inner picture of you.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry it should get between us so.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry that I need to keep a distance.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry we should have to fight.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry we should have such deep differences.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry you should be so disappointed.<br />
Mother, I'm sorry.</p>