She is too much for me. Too graceful. Too swift.
I cannot keep up. I cannot abide. I am too bullheaded, too stubborn to acknowledge her sacredness. I am too rigid to encapsulate her subtleties. I am too tough, too dense, too heavy to sense her refined wisdom and poise.
When I am close to her, I am close to nature.
I am always one step behind her, lost in her maze of impressions, movements, and gestures. Her intelligence is of a different kind, from a different realm. It is sublime in some way, beyond the realm of thought or knowledge. An intelligence that is characterized by an underlying divinity. An ethereal cleverness that I am always removed from and perhaps will never fully understand.
The feminine energy has always been rather captivating to me. It is representative of our innate propensity toward compassion and tenderness. The feminine implores empathy, the capacity to see beyond the horizon of our own self-interest. It is, in essence, the archetypal mother holding the child—the gentle caress of the divine. This energy is the very fabric of human life, the very glue that keeps us bound together.
This isn’t to degrade the masculine in any way for surely it contains strengths of its own.
Masculinity is ultimately an expression of our innate drive toward strength, achievement, and triumph. It is that which implores us to step upon the battlefield when our loved ones are in danger. It is that which gives us the courage to defend what we most value. It is that which gives us the will to act rightly when we are in the grips of fear. The masculine is, in essence, the holy protector, the righteous warrior, the noble soldier.
We all contain the very seeds of both, which is why the human adventure is so beautiful. Though, every so often, we find ourselves dwelling more so on one side than the other—and, personally, this has manifested as me being brash and hardheaded.
If each person embraced the other’s innate holiness, as well as their unique traits and peculiarities, then perhaps some of the turmoil we see in relationships could be put to rest.
The masculine and the feminine work to complement each other. This is their very nature. They represent two sides of the same experiential coin—it is immensely valuable to allow space for both. Both ends of the spectrum need to be embraced and embodied if we are to find peace both within and without, otherwise we become susceptible to extremism and conflict.
So, perhaps it might be useful when we find ourselves giving too much credence to one side or the other to simply breathe our way into the present moment and allow ourselves to recognize that we are not one or the other. In fact, we are not any “thing” at all. What we are is entirely undefinable, without name, and thereby when we attempt to inwardly identify as being this or that we invariably become detached from our essential and formless nature.
The yin and the yang must both be given the time of day; they must both be allowed to flow effortlessly through us. This cannot be achieved as long as we remain subjugated to our particular identities—whether that be man or woman, strong or graceful, Tom or Jane. We are all everything; each and every one of us is intrinsically capable of actualizing any mode of being that so fits us.
When this holy balance is elicited, our relationships would then become beautiful works of art rather than endless trials and heartaches.
She speaks a language I don’t always recognize. When I can’t understand it, I just try to listen as if it were music, as some kind of beautiful symphony of love and power. This way I can just be guided by the feelings, rather than clumsily trying to make sense of it all.
Each movement she makes is expressed with serenity and finesse. She is more patient than I, but this only works to further cultivate my practice of presence and mindfulness. In trying to keep up with her, remaining on a similar plane of consciousness, I improve who I am.
I am grateful to her for this.
Although, at times, I might be too stubborn to love her, too dim to recognize the strength and depth within her—this is the cost of intimacy. We may not always see eye to eye, but our inherent sameness and love for each other will persevere, just as it has persevered archetypically through the ages.
Sometimes I am too much in my masculine and she is too much in her feminine (or vice versa) for us to truly understand each other. But as long as we continue inquiring together, continue striving for that holy balance inwardly, continue cultivating this divine harmony of the masculine and the feminine within ourselves, then love shall remain the pervading force in our relationship.