I had many comment on Bed Wrecker or Home Wrecker and what Mark or I should do or what I should have said. I know these conversations drive-up emotions, for me as well. It is in my writing that I sort myself out. In this muse, through a conversation with another, I address my willingness and context for granting Mark space and being.
Let me challenge my Wisdom/LM community to begin the dialogue here. POST your comments and this blog too, becomes a social commons.
This muse is a conversation from the Wisdom Weekend. In the Wisdom Course people become more self-expressed, they become more fully themselves, and - there is nothing for me to do. Someone can express love or lust or whatever - and I don’t have to do anything with it.
“If you know nothing about me, here’s the thing you gotta know.” He held his head between his hands for a moment, as if it hurt. “In the world of Anima,” he dropped his hands to look at me. “Are you familiar with Anima?”
“I know Animus,” I said.
“Animus is man,” he instructed, “Anima is woman: the spirit of woman, the spirit of all women.” His arms spread to include all women. “You are the embodiment of Anima for me. Everything about you calls to me.”
“Waaaooww Franklin, thank you.”
“And I have this amazing marriage with Jane; right? And she is not Anima for me. You are: the way you walk, the way you talk, the things that come out of your mouth, your smile, your beauty, all of it.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I was wide-eyed, stunned and surprised. “Let me ask you this,” I said after a moment’s recuperation, “Is there something I need to be responsible for in our relationship, given that I always tease you?”
“No, no, I love that you do that. But just know that that will always be there,” he karate chopped the air between us, “That spirit of woman that will always call to me.”
“Okay, thank you,” I paused, “And thank you for telling me,” I added as an afterthought.
This I understand for when I said, “I know Animus,” I spoke truth. I know Animus. Animus incarnate: that man who captures the spirit of man and all men. Animus: the man for whom I will always attend and honor and love and care and want and sometimes pine.
Given our circumstance, our relationship is in constant renegotiation, continual architectural reorganization, a redraw and rewrite of the thin blue lines that structure, bind and circumscribe our coexistence. Over the years I’ve learned it is a very adult relationship that can allow Anima or Animus to dwell in our lives without trouble-making to have them occupy our beds. Heretical and dangerous, most would say. Magical seems more apropos.
Given Animus incarnate - the indescribable and infinite playzure I derive in him - I am the last person on the planet to judge another’s search for love and belonging. Capiche?
All that being said, Anima and Animus are mere stories, filters through which we view the chosen. I could deflate those wheels, flatten those tires and stop that vehicle but… nah! I prefer my life sprinkled in magic, dusted in love and peppered with adoration. Call me mad.