You're Free? OK, Now Stay That Way

This is part of a serial, "Sex Love Enlightenment." Previously: Each time we draw closer, Billy pulls away. But there comes a moment when I know: I'll be fine, whether he leaves or stays. When I feel that, I'm free. To see all posts in chronological order, Click Here.

Ahhhhhh, but that expansive sense of freedom doesn't stay fixed. It's not a state you reach, hoist your flag and dwell there forever. It's something you taste and cultivate and, over time, can inhabit more frequently. Like all experience, it's impermanent.

Billy wants to move to a different part of the country. He's lived in Colorado all his life, so he's eager to try a new region. Maybe New England? As it happens, before meeting Billy, I signed up for a 7-day retreat at a meditation center in Massachusetts. We decide to fly to Boston together and spend a week exploring the coast, from Gloucester to Provincetown at the tip of Cape Cod. Then he'll drop me off at the retreat, do some serious property hunting, and we'll meet at the Boston airport to fly home.

The problem is: We had a fight the night before leaving, and I became so frustrated I yelled, "Shut up!" I was startled by the intensity of my rage. How the hell had my newfound sense of freedom and detachment been knocked out? I apologized immediately, but Billy turned his back to me in bed and refused to speak.

On the flight to Boston, we exchange nothing but small talk. We don't get around to discussing the problem till late that evening. I spend a lot of time apologizing for my part, but his body stays rigid, locked. Like he wants to keep fuming, nursing his righteousness.

In the morning we try to make love, but our hearts, literally, aren't in it. We drive south, listening to music and not talking much, and I think, Why do I want to be with this person?

When we reach the resort where he's booked a room, the views make us gasp: sand dunes, ocean and sky bathed in that lambent gold light that draws painters to the area. Like many people who have money, Billy is frugal and loves to hunt for deals. He found a coupon online for a free room upgrade, so we're given a suite with glass doors opening to the sea, a fireplace, sunken tub and thick terrycloth robes.

At dinner we eat fresh caught lobster infused with sweet butter, corn that's so sugary it's like candy, and heirloom tomatoes dressed with 18-year-old Balsamic and white truffle oil. Even Billy can't stay angry through this. We walk along the ocean afterward and put our arms around each other. Tucked under fluffy white linens in our room, we listen to the rising, cresting--shoof!--of the waves and, at last, all's right with the world.

The next day we drive to the Province Lands, a preserve of sandy forest and freshwater ponds which Mary Oliver has claimed as her terrain, just as Willa Cather claimed the prairie. I've brought a book of Oliver's poems, and we hike to the site of one, Blackwater Pond.

We set out a picnic--lobster rolls and Pinot Grigio--and read it aloud:

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?

The words haunt us. "Waking the bones." "What beautiful thing just happened?" After making love that night, Billy says we should give titles to our sessions in bed, because each has a distinct flavor. "This one," he says, "was the Mary Oliver."

A few nights later, we find a movie theater that's playing "Shine a Light," Martin Scorsese's film about the Rolling Stones. In my 20s, I had a case for Mick Jagger, big time. I flew to Denmark to cover a tour the Stones were doing in Europe. I was wearing a long, lavender nightgown as a dress, with my hair ironed straight and falling to my waist, when I found myself face to face with Jagger in the hotel elevator. I trembled, this was my chance, I'd had endless fantasies about him, and here he was in the flesh, but I froze. What came out of my mouth was: "I... uh... really like your music." Eeegods! That was dumb! I wanted to shrink and disappear. But Jagger smiled, said "Thank you," and asked if I wanted to play poker with "the boys." Suddenly I'm sitting on the floor of a hotel room with the goddamn Rolling Stones, who think I'm a groupie, and I'm wondering what they'll do when they find out I'm a reporter.

All this comes rushing back to me as we watch the Stones perform, three decades later, on the big screen. Out on the street, Billy does an uncanny, spot-on imitation of Mick, skipping across the stage, swinging his lank arms and jutting out his chin. Back at the resort, we have a raucous time in bed. Billy calls it "the Mick Jagger."

The week flies to a close and Billy drives me to the retreat center. "I wish you wouldn't go," he says. "You've already been to one, didn't you learn what you needed to? Why do you have to go to another?"

I tell him the learning is ongoing, evolving. "It's the same with people who go to church every week..."

"I never understood that either," he says. "After years, you'd think people would get the message."

I try another tack. "I go because I love to go. Some people love to fish. You wouldn't ask them, why do you keep fishing? Didn't you already catch one?"

"Oh," he says. "I get that now."

We hug goodby, he drives off and I prepare myself to drop into the rhythm of the retreat: meditation, breakfast, a talk by the teacher, lunch, more mediation and walks--all in silence. On day 4, I'm in a rich state of quietness, walking out of the meditation hall, when Billy steps in front of me, putting a finger to his lips and saying, "Shhhh." Startled, I take a pen and paper from my purse and write, "Why are you here?"

He says he was driving by and thought he'd stop.

"I'm happy to see you," I write, "but I want to finish the retreat." He asks if he can join us for the day. "Sorry, they don't permit that." He takes a room in a motel nearby, and the next morning, as I'm walking with the group in silence, he appears again in my path.

"I just want to tell you, I won't be flying home with you," he says. "I found some properties I'm really excited about, and I'm gonna stay longer. I'll see you back in Colorado."

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PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT. Why do you think Billy shows up at the retreat? Is there a poem, a piece of music or a place that awes you? Is there one you might associate with an interlude of love?

Comments

[LadyR]

I guess you didn't like my post. But I'll say it again: How long are you going to let Billy (hate that name) jerk you around??? Because that is exactly what he is doing.

[MsTick]

Billy showed up because he felt his ‘edge,’ his advantage, slipping away.

Based on your blog (which is, of course, all I have to go by), everything he does is motivated by his need to maintain that advantage. His tactic: He’s a master at changing the game plan.

You pull away; he chases. You come closer; he worries about the age difference. You offer to leave; he relaxes. You argue; he prolongs hurt feelings; when that runs out of steam, he relents. You refuse to skip the retreat; he regroups, then shows up at the retreat. You refuse to drop your plans; he further changes tactics. Hence, his announcement that he wouldn’t be flying back to Colorado with you.

I just wonder: Is this really all that’s going on? Or is it simply all that’s being revealed, because that’s the conclusion you’ve already come to?

In other words, as with everything, what a person says is far more revealing of the speaker than the spoken about.

In any case, I have just “discovered” you, have caught up with many of the articles published on your website, and am a new fan. BTW, I signed up (last week) to receive future installments, but never got an email.

[Sara Davidson]

Hey, MsTick, thanks for your astute observations. You nailed it, I think. And of course, Billy would have an entirely different story of what happened, at each and every turn. And all would be true. Remember "Rashomon?"

Please send me your email address and I'll make sure you get notices in future. Sometimes the forms don't work perfectly. Send to: leap@sarad­avidson.co­m

[Cranbot]

The men I have dealt with my entire life have to be the main focus no matter what. They are like children. When Mom is on the phone or otherwise distracted, the 3 yr old just has to say Mom, Mom, MOM! The men I work with have a hissy fit if I don't immediately pay attention to them even if I have a person on hold on the phone while waiting on a walk in customer. Hello? It's not all about you guys. With 3 brothers, no sisters, working with a majority of male firefighters after working with other male bosses, I am sick of having to deal with the drama. I have previously worked in an insurance office of 29 females and 5 males and if you think that was catty and dramatic, you haven't worked in a majority male atmosphere. I am not going to stroke your ego any more than I am going to stroke your penis, so get over yourself. Work with us as equals and thing will be easier all around.

[Sara Davidson]

Amen, Cranbot.

[wendoxia]

I liked billy at first, even chastised you for not being more fair with him. but he is beginning to seem like a sadistic bastard who is punishing you...and you take it. you fight with him, a fight you can never win.... i if you want this man, walking away is the only way to keep him. tell him to enjoy his new life in new england, but you live in colorado. and say goodbye. he'll be back.

but.. if you really do care for him and have this chance to have this extraordinary time in new england, why didnt you blow off the retreat and put your relationship first? so maybe youre both a little guilty of this trainwreck..

[Kelly Jo]

Billy always feels like he must be your number one priority at all times. You not only went to this retreat rather than spend time with him, but you also refused to allow him to disrupt the experience. Now he is making a big, confusing and hurtful gesture to get your attention. He doesn't want you to be able to get along without him - that tells him that he's not important. (I think that a big part of his self-image is that you need him, but that he doesn't need you as much.) Now that you've made him feel that you don't need him, he wants to reaffirm to himself and to you that he doesn't need you. Thus he is basically abandoning you, but he can't wait until you are done with what you are doing to tell you, because then he won't be able to disrupt your retreat. I'm sure that after his big announcement you were distracted from your retreat - and thus his goal is accomplished, simultaneously capturing your attention and pulling away from you.

[Sara Davidson]

Kelly Jo, I think your insights are sound. It was kind of outrageous for him to show up at a retreat -- the word says it all, it's a retreat, and should be respected, unless there's an emergency. At the time, I just thought it was typical of his behavior, and was real clear what my priority was: finishing the retreat.
One of my favorite quotes from Rilke is: "I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other”

[bunnylogic]

I don't like the sound of him...

[classicalgeek]

Perhaps he's "marking" his territory?