Last night, Husband had a dream about having sex.
(choirs singing. . .) Hallelujah!!
Man! It’s almost as good as the real thing!
On a much different note, Therapist- ( I think she deserves a much greater title than that, so I’ll be working on it) asked me to write something for her. Here it is:
Three to Five Paragraphs on the Happiest Times in my Life
Interesting exercise. The natural effect of such a process has been a happier disposition as I reflect on all that is good in my life. Pretty tough to narrow it down to a few occurrences. I did discover that I don’t remember any happy period of time, but mostly moments, or experiences with happiness or light surrounding them. Maybe that’s not too uncommon?
I’ll start with recurring happy times: The first is with my husband. Every evening when he comes home there is a moment of sheer joy. The “four o’clock hour” is notorious for being a hard time of the day for me, so when he pulls into the driveway at 5:30, I am more than ready for a respite from my cares. Even if he just came home and planted himself on the sofa (which he has yet to do in 13.5 years of marriage) I would take great satisfaction in seeing his gorgeous face and taking in his light. The best are the days that I beat the kids to him, and meet him in the driveway for a few moments alone together. The other recurring happy times are bedtimes with the kids. I take a moment with each one to read a story, or more frequently, sing a song. The boys use this time to hug and squeeze and touch my face and sing along, and I soak up their brightness. One son will tell me stories that go on and on . . . and always involve planes, trains, and most of the time, Jesus.
Another recurring theme in my happy times has been nature, and movement. I remember trail running with my Dad through Arches, with a high school friend through Brian Head, and hiking Angel’s Landing in Zion with another friend. All three involved rigorous physical exertion coupled with nature’s most glorious beauty. Camping with my husband’s family was always a treat, mostly because they did all of the work and I was able to just enjoy. Zion and Southern Utah have evoked the most happy memories- maybe because I shared those trips with people with whom I felt confident and secure, and with whom I was able to share intimate moments without distractions or “competition” from other people.
Which brings me to another discovery about my happiness: intimacy. Some of the greatest moments of my life have been when I was with a small group of people, or alone with another person with whom I felt completely safe. My girlfriend trip to San Diego last summer was a big one. It sealed the 20+ year friendships I had shared with these women, and allowed me, finally, to accept their love and acceptance of me.
And finally, performing. This is something I don’t do much of anymore- at least in the way I once did. I used to play violin, and performing a piece which I had really worked on, and knew inside and out would bring great pleasure. When I would dance, I would pour my heart and soul into the movement and derive great pleasure from the audience response. When I moved on to teaching dance, my heart would leap out of my chest to see my girls performing with such grace and precision- giving movement to my ideas. Running is less performing, but crossing the finish line is the closest thing I have found to the sheer, raw emotion of that physical effort, and payoff of hard work. Crossing the finish line into the arms of my husband, well, it just doesn’t get better than that.