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My husband is downstairs using a vacuum. I find that this turns me on. I would, of course, much prefer the sound of a hammer, or better yet a wet-saw (my husband wouldn't know what that was), but over 20 + years, I've settled for being turned-on by a vacuum. I'm not sure if there is a lesson here. Maybe I need to learn to use that wet-saw myself; to accept that life doesn't always live up to our expectations and to learn how to accept it-- embrace it, even-- anyway, on its own terms; or to go out and find the guy with the tools, sandpaper, glass-blower, or guitar. For now, I have a guy who wields a vacuum, so I'm doing my best to embrace that.
Over and over again, my various spiritual mentors have told me that I hold too tightly to the pictures I have of what my desires should look like, and that in doing so I miss what is in right front of me. Thinking I want a hammer, I miss the beauty of the vacuum. This is about that elusive difference between resignation and surrender, which is intimately related to the difference between the form and energy of a thing (which, interestingly enough has something to do with those strange turn-ons we call fetishes). The energy of my turn-on has something to do with a guy in control, passionate about his craft. I tell myself I know what this looks like, because I have in fact seen it before, but in doing so I forget that this same energy can manifest in different ways- ways that surprise me. If my husband's craft is occassionally cleaning our home, so be it. Today, I try to embrace that sound that soothes colicky infants; a sound that reflects a home on its way to being clean; and a sound that means my husband loves me, because he is doing this housecleaning this morning for me.
And, right or wrong, I keep my ears open for the sound of that glassblower, musician, or craftsman with the saw.
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2 comments:
Make him do the vacuuming in his undies...lol. I've always found men working outside w/o a shirt to be offer some fetching images - which is ironic since I've never dated anyone particularly masculine in the traditional sense - in fact, I tend to gravitate to smaller, dark, and on occasion quite effeminate men - then with them I had the audacity to complain about having to be in charge all the time....
It's an interesting observation-- maybe reflecting the fact that we are often attracted to things in the external world (strong men without shirts) that reflect our inner worlds (somehow needing to be in charge or in control- or just plain strong), which is why we might ultimately choose men who allow for this. I think what is important is that we get a chance to play with this in some way-- i.e., what it feels like to be in charge, and what it feels like to surrender to someone else's charge. I think we deserve to experience the whole range of possibilities in life if we so choose :)
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