Shela and Dale

In the hustle and bustle of daily life, there are random moments of intimacy that are too often missed. Watch for them. Savor them. Example: Lately, I’ve been engrossed with writing book #2 (which is why I’ve been missing in action the last few weeks) and hubby Dale has been engrossed in his YMCA garden project. Both of us tend to be like a dog with a bone when we’ve got a big project happening—so focused on what we’re doing that, when it comes to our relationship, we go on auto-pilot and forget to pay attention. The other night we went to a black tie fund raiser for a foundation started by a young mother who lost her son to SIDS. Most of the people there were of her generation so it didn’t take long before (1) Dale and I noticed we were old enough to be the parents of just about everybody there (ouch!), and (2) our feet began to hurt (double ouch!) We found two empty chairs where we could sit, rest our feet, chat and people watch. For once, we weren’t thinking about our respective projects. We were just together, right in the middle of the hubbub of a party, with a few hundred other people milling about. We held hands and laughed (somewhat ruefully) at our old age behavior. It wasn’t until I was telling a friend about our evening that I realized we had shared an intimate moment. I began to pay attention and, guess what, I began to see those random moments of intimacy that might otherwise have been missed.

Our two-year old granddaughter Kennedy said something in a crowded restaurant that her parents did not find amusing or cute. A glance, a quick smile at each other, an acknowledgment that we both had the same thought—she is soooooooo cute—that, under the circumstances, we couldn’t express out loud. An intimate moment.

The Beatles released the song “When I’m Sixty-Four” in 1967 when Dale was just 21 and 64 seemed very old indeed and very, very far away. Well, Dale just had his 64th birthday and while he doesn’t usually obsess about his age, turning 64—because of that darned song—made him feel old for the first time. A few days after his birthday we went to the theater and asked for senior tickets. The young man at the ticket booth said, “You don’t look like seniors. I’d swear you guys are in your 50’s!” Nice to hear but especially nice for Dale who was a bit embarrassed by how much he was beaming. I winked at him, acknowledging that I understood how good it felt for him to hear those words. An intimate moment.

A quick stop at Crate ‘n Barrel to pick up a replacement for a broken red wine glass. On a nearby shelf were the same martini glasses we’d used for Cosmos when we recently entertained good friends and, after they left, entertained each other in a particularly memorable way (wink-wink). I picked one up and held it for Dale to see. He smiled and I knew we were both thinking of the same night. An intimate moment.

Those little moments of random intimacy are jewels to be treasured. Keep an eye out for them!

“You have more butt than you need, but you have a nice shape.” That’s the closest my hubby Dale has come to criticizing me and to be honest, his comment was merely a verbal observation of fact. I now have more butt than when the comment was made, but he’s never said another word about it. Bless him.

Coupling up bestows permission to say things (e.g., about your sweetie’s butt) that might not otherwise be appropriate. However, there’s a very thin line, over which you ought not to step, between criticism and comments such as that made by Dale. Criticism trashes emotional intimacy. Here’s why: To be justified in criticizing another person, the following must be true:

• You are right and the other person is wrong,
• You are superior in position or knowledge, and
• You have the right to voice criticism and demand certain behavior.

Your sweetheart’s boss, drill sergeant, mother, coach, personal trainer, or professor may meet that criteria but, as your partner’s equal, you do not. What you are (or should be) is the one person on the planet who your partner can always, absolutely, no questions asked, no doubt about it, count on for support. If you want emotional intimacy (and who doesn’t) then never, ever cause your partner to question that support.

You already know that shouting, “You’re lazy!” is more likely to result in the cold shoulder than help around the house. “No, honey, you’re wrong,” won’t endear you to your partner. “You could lose a few pounds,” is likely to get you cut off from you-know-what for several weeks! I don’t need to remind you that overt criticism plays havoc with intimacy. What we all need to remember is that it’s those situations where we’re tempted to give “constructive criticism” that are tricky. Here’s an example:

Your sweetheart is down in the dumps because, in his annual review, the boss said he’s too independent. It may be accurate to say, “Playing well with others is not your strong point. You need to work on that.” And your intention may be loving and the criticism may arguably be constructive, but would it be helpful? Probably not. There’s a good chance your partner will interpret your comment as siding with the boss, who at that moment is public enemy #1. What does that make you?

In this example, supporting your sweetheart doesn’t mean going on a rant about how clueless the boss is. It means saying and doing those things that will help your sweetheart come to his own conclusion about how to best handle it. Until asked for your advice and your help, keep it to yourself. When asked, be careful to give suggestions that are helpful and supportive WITHOUT expressing a single critical word. It’s not up to you to point out your sweetheart’s flaws or to tell him or her how to fix those flaws. If you need to fix something, work on yourself.

To be emotionally intimate, you must be connected. Criticism severs that connection and has no place in an intimate relationship. Noel Coward said it best, “I love criticism just so long as it’s unqualified praise.”

Two questions:

• Why do made-for-each-other love bugs butt heads, step on each others toes, and get their wires crossed?
• In a “discussion” with your sweetie, have you ever said something like, “Well, in my book [fill in the blank].”

The answer to the second question is sure you have. The answer to the first question is this:

The “book” you’re referring to is the unique and complex mix of your preferences, opinions, priorities, standards, points of view, and sensitivities, all shaped by your DNA, upbringing, education, life’s experiences, religious or philosophical training, culture, and self-perception. It’s the guide for how you navigate life and it’s the standard by which you determine if others are flying right. In the context of your relationship, I call this your Foreplay Navigator™. We all have one.

Here’s the problem: You behave (and judge your sweetheart) according to your Foreplay Navigator while your sweetheart behaves (and judges you) according to his or her Foreplay Navigator. It’s like playing a game with two different sets of rules where neither of you knows the others rules. True, the Foreplay Navigators of you and your sweetheart overlap in fundamental ways, but they also differ in a bazillion ways and it’s those differences that result in the head butts, stepped on toes, and crossed wires that often play havoc with intimacy.

If only you could push the “print” button and exchange copies of Foreplay Navigators! Since you can’t, you must:

Never assume your sweetheart sees the world as you do. There are times when your differences require negotiation (such as whether to raise the baby Jewish or Baptist), but it is futile to butt heads over who’s right and who’s wrong. And while you may be passionate about what color the bathroom should be painted, your opinion does not rise to the level of universal truth. Differences are just that. They are not matters of right and wrong.

Never assume your sweetheart sees life as you do. It’s easy to get your toes stepped on if your sweetheart doesn’t know, for example, that according to your Foreplay Navigator, a gift certificate is the ultimate I-gave-this-no-thought acknowledgement of a special occasion, or having coffee with an ex who blew into town is tantamount to cheating. When you feel the pain of stepped on toes, it’s probably nothing more than an innocent clash of Foreplay Navigators.

Never assume your sweetheart sees you the way you see yourself.  When you have beliefs that diminish your self-value (and who doesn’t), it’s easy to get your wires crossed and see or hear negative messages when no such thing is intended.  Your sweetheart loves you. If you don’t believe that, reconsider your relationship situation. If you do, don’t twist your sweetheart’s words and actions to fit your self-perception. When you feel hurt or disappointed, take a close look at why. Perhaps it’s a chapter in your Foreplay Navigator that needs a rewrite. For example, if your sweetheart says, “The rice is salty,” and you hear, “You’re a terrible cook,” maybe the problem is your self-esteem.

Head butts, stepped on toes, crossed wires. They are inevitable in every relationship. You can allow them to destroy intimacy. Or, you can see them as opportunities to learn more about your own and your sweetheart’s Foreplay Navigator and if you do, you will have a richer, more intimate, and more rewarding relationship. I promise.

Take time to talk.

Have you ever noticed how a good marriage has the attributes of friendship?  Someone’s there to zip your dress, give an opinion about what tie goes with the jacket, fetch aspirin for your headache, and (and this is important!) laugh at your jokes, funny or goofy. Good stuff. But what sustains a marriage and what makes living together on a daily basis, with all the ups and downs, easy and comfortable is Emotional Intimacy. That’s why it’s important for every couple to have intimacy rituals that can be practiced daily.

No, I don’t mean candles, heated massage oil, and the hot tub. Those are great—for sexual intimacy. But let’s not confuse physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. In the falling-in-love fireworks stage of your relationship, intimacy equaled SEX! But once you settle into your nest, the stork pays a visit or two, there’s a lawn to be mowed, the cat has to go to the vet, kids need chauffeuring or help with homework, the car breaks down, the toilet backs up, one of you loses a job, gets sick, or has an argument with a friend. All of that makes you too tired to think, let alone jump each other’s bones.

When the now-less-frequent opportunity for sex presents itself, there are times when you really do have a headache, are beyond irritated by your mouthy teen-ager’s attitude, have an early flight to catch, or for whatever reason you’re just not in the mood. It’s a bummer, I agree, but you just cannot rely on sex to provide the intimacy you need to have a great relationship. Yes, a good sex life is important, but without emotional intimacy, your marriage is likely to wither and die no matter how great the sex may be.

Intimacy rituals don’t have to be complicated or take a big chunk of time and can even be part of a daily chore or event. Here’s what Hubby Dale and I do. At the beginning of the day, Dale sits in the bathroom and chats with me while I get dressed for the office. We don’t talk about anything special, we’re just together for a few minutes before we go our separate ways. We come back together over dinner. We don’t answer the phone and the TV is off. We talk about current events or Dale’s trip to the grocery store where he ran into a friend, we chuckle over something cute a grandchild said, we plan a dinner party, or revisit a favorite memory. An eavesdropper would find it mundane, but for us, it’s a reconnection after being apart all day.

For you, an intimacy ritual might be calling each other on your lunch hour and taking 15 minutes to catch up on your day, cooking dinner together, doing an evening crossword puzzle, playing dominoes, or turning off the TV, snuggling and chatting for 20 minutes before going to sleep.

Converting an everyday event into an intimacy ritual may require nothing more than a change in how you view that activity. Finding the time may be as easy as doing together what one usually does alone. Bathing the baby, pulling weeds, grocery shopping, preparing the evening meal, washing the cars, etc., are all opportunities for the kind of togetherness that fosters emotional intimacy. You just need the right state of mind.

Give it a try and see how much closer you will be.  Then, let me know how it works out.

I dunno about you but gift giving between spouses has always seemed strange to me. I don’t quite get the point of buying a shirt or sweater (or even jewelry) for your lovebug when the $$ comes from a communal pot (which is kind of like contributing to the purchase price of your own gift, isn’t it?) Or, what’s the point of buying another shirt or sweater for the person who already has more shirts or sweaters than can ever be worn. So hubby Dale and I decided a long time ago that instead of buying each other gifts, we’d do something together, for us, as our gift to each other and to our relationship.

One year we bought bicycles and a bike rack for our 4-Runner. At the time we were living in Northern California where, within a short distance in any direction, there were a zillion fabulous places to cycle. The first place we headed was South Lake Tahoe where, courtesy of friends, we had a place to stay right on the lake. We were so excited that the minute we got there, we were pedaling up the lane. We tried holding hands while riding. I do not recommend this. I lost my balance, we both toppled over, and I ended up with a black eye. Yeah, that was not fun. But here’s the good part. We rousted out early the next morning, filled a thermos with hot coffee, and pedaled to where we could watch the sun come up. Holding hands this time was far more successful. An intimate moment, cuddled together to ward off the chill, sipping coffee and watching the sun rise. It’s one of those hey-remember-when moments that we enjoy reliving again and again.

Torres Del Paine

Another year we splurged and went to Patagonia for three weeks. Wow! That was a great trip with the highlight being a stay at the Explora, located at the base of the Torres Del Paine. Check out the picture that I took from our room in the wee hours of the morning. It was on that trip that our car broke down in the middle of nowhere and Dale had the meltdown I wrote about in an earlier post. Yep, even a meltdown is an opportunity to create intimacy. We spent New Year’s Eve on a ferry that took us down the coast of Chile to Patagonia. We sat in our not-at-all-luxury cabin, popped the cork on a bottle of champagne we thought to buy at the last minute, toasted, kissed, took and sip and then both practically gagged. Champagne?  Uh-uh. More like fuel oil.  Nasty stuff that went down the drain.  But who needs champagne to celebrate the new year. We didn’t. After going out on deck where the crew shot off fireworks, we headed back to our cabin. How many people can say they’ve done the wild thing on a ferry, heading south along the Chilean coast to Patagonia on New Year’s Eve?  Great trip from which we have a whole bunch of hey-remember-when memories.

You don’t have to spend a lot. One year we bought a martini shaker and glasses. We spent most of January slightly tipsy as we worked our way from Appletini (which I recommend) to Wasabi Martini (which I do not recommend). We have used that shaker for many years and each time we pull it out of the cabinet, it inspires a hey-remember-when Christie and Gary came for dinner and we . . . , or when we celebrated the . . . , or we . . . story.

A shirt is long forgotten. But the memory of an intimate moment is the gift that keeps on giving. Try it. I think you’ll like it.

My Hubby Dale

Hubby Dale and a guy friend sat on their boat knocking down a few beers and whiled away a lazy afternoon by listing body “ations”—urination, expectoration, perspiration, etc. I tried, but failed, to imagine doing the same with a girlfriend. We would identify the three most important “ations”—exfoliation, ovulation and menstruation, three these two geniuses missed—and then go shoe shopping.

Like it or not, “ations” are part of life. When you’re cheek by jowl it’s impossible to pretend, as you do in those early getting-to-know-each-other days, that you’re the only person on the planet who doesn’t experience them. At some point, one or the other of you will fart, belch, or leave the bathroom in need of fumigation. One bit of relaxed behavior leads to another and before you know it, you’re sharing—perhaps over-sharing—all those “ations.”

It’s not fair to stereotype but it seems to me that most guys never quite get over their middle-school fascination with body functions, especially flatulation and eructation (belching). There’s even a certain pride that some men take in “ations” as if the louder the belch or the more pungent the flatulence, the more manly they are. I. Do. Not. Get. It.

Okay, I admit it. I sometimes see the humor. Dale and I were at a Wednesday afternoon matinee, the favorite showing for folks from the retirement community. During a quiet moment Dale coughed so hard he ripped one. A really loud one. The elderly woman in front of Dale reached up and patted her head as if she feared the blast had dislodged her wig. We could not stop laughing and had to leave.

Then there’s grooming. In a perfect world, we’d all wake up as they do in the soaps—perfect hair, perfect make-up, no morning breath. You wouldn’t need to floss or brush your teeth, clip your toenails, exfoliate, mud pack, shave, or file your calluses. It’s soooooooooo not a perfect world.

I think most body functions and grooming should be done behind closed doors. Dale is more relaxed. I’m convinced he’d never seek privacy but for the fact that he reads on the john and doesn’t want to be disturbed. Oddly, the one thing that grosses him out is watching me put my contacts on. You may consider that as weird as I do, but it does demonstrate an important point. When it comes to body functions and grooming, it’s a good idea to know when you’re crossing your sweetie’s “that’s disgusting” line. We all have our quirks. Kathy is grossed out by teeth flossing, Elijah by ear wax on Q-Tips. I need complete privacy to groom my feet. Nail clippings make Rebecca want to hurl. Respect your sweetheart’s quirks and avoid the gross out.

It may be impossible to maintain the same level of propriety you would around a total stranger, but remember this: In an intimate relationship, there are times when less is more.

Patrick & Lisa

I didn’t know much about Patrick Swayze, other than I loved him in Ghost and Dirty Dancing, until I read about him in People. I did not know, for example, that he was married to his childhood sweetheart Lisa and that they had been married for 34 years. By all accounts, theirs was a special relationship, the kind we’d all like to have. I’m always impressed when people get it right the first time, especially when they marry so young and then face extraordinary challenges such as fame, and in Patrick’s case alcoholism. I am profoundly sad that Lisa has lost her husband, her best friend, and her anchor, made all the more sad by the fact that she no doubt can hardly remember life without him, so long ago did they find each other. I can’t begin to imagine the huge emotional hole that is left. Their marriage is an inspiration to all of us. In a profound act of intimacy after his diagnosis with pancreatic cancer, they together wrote the memoir The Time of My Life. I hope that reliving the memories recorded there will bring some solace to Lisa. I, for one, look forward to reading the book and learning the secret to their long and special relationship. I suspect it will be much the same as that of Paul and Linda McCartney.

I listened to a Paul McCartney interview at the height of his fame. He was asked how he and Linda managed to stay so happily married with all his success and with millions of women available to him. He said, “It’s simple. I love her.”  Wow.

Amazon River

Have you ever been with a couple and one says something to the other that seems to make sense only to them? You say, “What?” They say, “Private joke,” and give each other a meaningful glance. I was working on the chapter in my book about humor and it occurred to me that it’s often from humorous situations that “private jokes” arise. E.g., Dale and I were on a camping tour of Manu Reserve in the Peruvian Amazon basin. Dale was in heaven and although it was pretty cool to wake to the sound of howler monkeys and see poison dart frogs in their natural environment, there’s a reason why a rain forest is called a rain forest. Wet. Hot. Humid. Camping. No shower. REALLY big bugs. Ugh! On the tour were four other couples, including Lucinda and Graham from London where an umbrella is an everyday accessory. While the rest of us drowned rats huddled in an open canoe wearing cheap plastic ponchos purchased on the streets of Cuzco, Lucinda and Graham were cuddled under the giant umbrella they thought to bring with them. As if this weren’t annoying enough, they were also irrepressibly chipper—of course they were, they were dry! Every morning, they’d get up and describe the previous night in a moldy old tent as, “Brilliant!” By the fifth day, I was pretty cranky and, frankly, tired of Lucinda and Graham. Dale (normally a very funny guy) was having the time of his life and attempted to make a joke with our non-English speaking Peruvian guide who, of course, didn’t get it. I grabbed Dale by the lapels, pulled his face close to mine, and said through clenched teeth, “Dale, you are not funny in the rain forest!” Without blinking an eye, he looked down at me and said, “Graham thinks I’m funny.” I cracked up. Now, years later, when I fail to find Dale as humorous as he thinks he is, I say, “This is the rain forest.” He knows to get serious but before he does, he often adds, “Graham thinks I’m funny,” and it always makes me smile.

The phrase “not pregnant” also has a special meaning for us. It means “don’t make assumptions.”  Here’s how that one came about: We were on our way to an afternoon matinee. I was driving my hot little Mustang, chatting and not paying close enough attention, when I rear-ended a van. We pulled into the closest parking lot and while I went to speak to the driver, Dale ran to the passenger side to make sure no one was hurt. He yanked the door open and blurted out to the large woman reclining in the seat, “Oh, my God, you’re really pregnant!” She wasn’t. Ha!

Bottom line:  Every couple in love builds their own little “world” of shared experiences, code words, meaningful glances, and gestures only they understand. It’s part of what makes a couple a couple. It’s pretty darned intimate when you two are the only ones in a crowded room to share a “private joke.”