"Can I tell you to shut the fuck up?"
Written down, it seems like a harsh command, but spoken from Naveed's gentle curious spirit into the warm glow of our evening, it felt like a thrill; it sent giggles through me.
We met on zoom, connected a bit through voice notes, and when I arrived to be his housemate for two weeks, we hopped right into bed for a tight-squish cuddle. Platonic, erotic, intimate, primal, how do I describe that? It was two real bodies being what they were in that moment, until a new moment arrived.
We were downstairs sharing food he'd made when he told me gently that he was going to answer some texts. I said I didn't mind, continued chattering, and then got the sense that there was something more.
"Are you saying you want me to shut up? You can tell me that directly..."
Naveed leaned in on this invitation, feeling my resilience, going to what I surmise is an outer edge of his leadership: direct command and shaping. "Shut the fuck up." He's SUCH a gentle, go with the flow person, I was liquified by that strong frame. I was softened by the hardness of it in a way that was a great relief.
We ended up setting a five minute timer for silence, and in that space my nervous system went melty and slow.
I want to be clear that we can't separate this deliciousness at an extremity from the fearless intimacy we cultivated beforehand. The cuddle connected us in trustworthy love, in honor, respect, and recognition. We were feeling SAFE together before we took that safety to an edge. Think of it like how you put the harness on long before you get to the bungee jumping platform.
When the five minutes were up, I shared how relaxing I'd found that silence to be, and the way that I saw Naveed's desire for silence as an intelligence not only of his body and system but of my body and of our relational container. The way that he was advocating for what our connection wanted in a moment when I was bypassing it, slightly out of tune.
When I deeply connect with another, trusting that connection means trusting that connection to shift in subtle ways. When I am in devotion, I am trusting that the connection is shifting in ways that serve all involved. When the other advocates for their desire, my first assumption is that the desire will serve us. I look for how I might be served by it FIRST. (I used to argue first. There’s hope…)
In this way, there's no need to advocate for change, because evolution is always happening. I observe the changes that are taking place, honor each change as it arises, and allow that changes are guaranteed. Naveed's desire for silence was NOT a result of me talking too much. Through a gentle unfolding of a connection in a container, a moment arrived where silence was more of service than words, and he advocated for that.
I took this adjustment with great pleasure precisely because it was not a criticism or a condemnation, but an INVITATION to be at home in honor of the fullness of the new moment. When I deeply understand adjustment, I can even alchemize incoming criticism to receive only the essence of invitation.
"Shut the fuck up" sounds like "stop talking" but I can choose to hear it as "join me in silence, offer me your silence." "Shut the fuck up" is simply the most playful, joy-inspiring way that invitation could come into that moment, between me and Naveed. It's the outfit the invitation is wearing—aesthetics matter, AND dress-up is fun.
It is the essential ENERGY in a connection that we feel underneath the aesthetics, and we all have the power to alchemize any incoming energy through our receiving of it, through what we return.
This is the way I teach my clients how to be at peace in the world, how to have the ultimate influence over their experience through personal responsibility. Its movements are innate to our relational nature as humans, like walking is innate to our bodies. And, like walking, we all must learn and practice, and we may find it beyond our limitations.
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This. Is so. GOOD.