I was talking about relationships with Alissa Kriteman the other day. Alissa has a great pod cast and blog on the Personal Life Media Network called “Just For Women”. We were both struck by the seeming vacuum of self-help information for people who are somewhere between just-beginning-to-date and committed-to-a-relationship.

Alissa referred to them as in “lovership”. What my mother might have called “seeing each other”. There are shelf-loads of books about how to locate, invite and impress dates. More shelves of books on building and maintaining the perfect relationship. But what about coaching for the in-betweens? Hardly a word.

Here are three guidelines for lovers: First, I coach lovers to have honest, open communication. Simply put, tell the truth. Too much of what passes for politeness or romance is really just covert lying – withholding any thought that might not contribute to fooling this person into another date. I love Dr. Susan Campbell’s advice – “do not waste valuable time and energy wishing things were different, assigning blame, trying to be right, or manipulating people”, use your time to be in “learning” mode, “pay attention to what is actually happening (instead of what you think should be happening), then you are fully available to respond creatively and appropriately in each moment.”

My guideline number two would be: Own your body, own your genitals, own your sexuality. No one ever owes sex to anyone. No one has any rights over your sovereign self but you. Sounds deceptively simple, but I notice how rarely people take full responsibility for their own experience. IMO, the only person who can give you an orgasm is you. The only person responsible for how, when and where you use your genitals is you. Its great to make agreements, as long as we remember that all agreements are negotiable.

My third guideline is also pretty simple. No pain…no pain. Pleasure is healing. Laughter is every bit as important as honesty and responsibility. I recently interviewed Marilyn Kurland, author of “Everlasting Matrimony: Pearls of Wisdom from Couples Married 50 Years or More.” One pearl I gleaned was the importance of liking each other, of forgiving each other, of enjoying each other. Life is relatively short, suffering is optional, so steering a joyful course seems sensible to me.

I’ll keep thinking about this. Perhaps you will too. Feel free to add a comment with your ideas about “lovership.”

Sometimes it seems to me like my world is filled with victims. So very few people take personal responsibility for anything. In politics our leaders blame the opposition, blame the committee in charge, blame the voters, blame the disenfranchised. In relationships she blames him, he blames their kids, their kids blame the teachers, the teachers blame the parents. And on and on it goes. In what passes for therapy these days people blame their parents, their clergy, their neuroses, their condition, their medication, their counselor.

That’s the great thing about the blame game, there’s always someone or something at fault. And as long as I can assign fault, then there’s not too much I need to do. Maybe a little anger work once in a while. Maybe some practice of forgiveness. Blaming is a great way to avoid the opportunities for growth that life constantly presents.

As far as personal growth is concerned, fault doesn’t really matter. Our growth is not so much from our experiences as it is from our thoughts and beliefs arising from those experiences. My father was, among many things, a violent angry drunk who hit me, humiliated me, shamed me, disappointed me, and never really knew how to father me. There, now I have a great excuse to fail, great reasons to feel sorry for myself, great opportunities to blame all sorts of things in my life on him.

Or I could decide that fault, blame and excuses miss the point. Every moment in my life is an opportunity for growth. Every thought, every experience can be the fertilizer out of which my enlightenment might bloom. Sadly, fertilizer often looks and smells like s__t. I am deeply, honestly grateful for the powerful lessons I learned from, and in reaction to, my Dad. Through my difficult upbringing I learned self-reliance, internal strength, the distinction between power and force, what fatherhood is and is not, and so much more.

I remember a story my Dad used to tell about a bird that decides that all this flying south in Autumn and north in Spring is just too much work. Ignoring all advice, this bird decides not to fly south for the winter. The first real frost comes and the bird wakes up one October morning frozen solid. Wiggling around trying to get his wings to flap he falls out of his tree. Thinking things could not possibly get worse, a passing cow picks the exact spot on the ground where the bird lays, and drops a pile of hot, steaming manure on him. Poor bird. Frozen. In a pile of poop.

As the manure warms the bird, he begins to thaw. As feeling returns to his extremities he realizes he is going survive. But try as he might he can’t seem to free himself from the pile. It occurs to him to seek help, and perhaps find someone to pull him out of the dung heap. So he begins to sing as loud as he can, crying and complaining that he is stuck in a pile of excrement. A cat hears him, helpfully pulls him out, carries him to a bit of a puddle, helps him rinse the cow patties off…and eats him.

The morals of this story: Not everyone who dumps on you is your enemy. Not everyone who helps you out of sh_t is your friend. And, perhaps most importantly, if your warm and alive and feeling good, perhaps its best if you don’t start loudly complaining!

On my podcast “Sex, Love & Intimacy” I just had the great good fortune to interview Ulrich Stoevken and Anke Flessner, therapists, workshop leaders and proponents of hugging. After hearing them talk about cuddle parties and free hugs I got to thinking about touching and talking in relationships.

One way that my life partner and I keep our love alive is through our conversations. We talk about everything. We talk about the weather, current events, books we’re reading, friends we have in common, friends our partner hasn’t met or doesn’t know well, the kids, work, everything.

We talk about things we’re afraid to talk about. We actually have a rule for our relationship that anything you think you can’t or shouldn’t say, you must say. We talk about things we have a habit of not talking about – we both notice deep hesitancy in asking for 100% of what we want in our sexuality. It doesn’t feel like fear, more like deep neuronal pathways to keep silent and hope our partner fortuitously happens to do the thing desired. If they get it right, then appropriate moaning and sighing will let them know. If they don’t get it right, the habit is to let it go, enjoy what is being given. So we talk about that habit, and gently teach ourselves to talk about everything.

And, paradoxically, sometimes talk actually gets in the way of intimacy. We both know how to hide in our words. We both are quite adept at building arguments and debates, when our hearts are crying out for hugs and cuddles. We strive to understand WHY – Why did you say that? Why am I feeling this? Why don’t I like that? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t I learn this as a child? Why? Why? Why? As if understanding, comprehension, analysis is the goal. But understanding is often the consolation prize, that useless toy that game shows give to the losers. And analysis often creates paralysis. In science and engineering it is often useful to search for causality (this is so because that is so), in the affairs of the human heart it is often useless. Or maybe worse than useless, causal thinking can interfere with intimacy.

When our heart aches we want contact, not explanations. The best thing I can do for my beloved when she is hurt or upset is to stay present with her, to hold her, to listen and not ask questions. The best thing my beloved can do for me when I’m hurt or upset is to stay present with me, to hold me, to listen and not ask questions. Most often, sexuality will flow when we are ready to stop talking about it and start doing it. And if our talking is having either of us feeling isolated, more alone, less supported, then we interpret that as a clue that we should stop talking and start stroking each other’s face.

IMO, talk is very important, but touch is even more important than talk.

On my podcast, as I talk to the “experts” about relationships I’ve been hearing a lot of conversation about honesty and truth-telling in relationships. And, equally I’ve been hearing the suggestion that, maybe, there’s entirely too much talking, processing, arguing going on. How can one learn to tell the truth, but not talk the truth to death?

As I try to figure out what to say and what to keep to myself I’m usually guided by the idea that anything I’m afraid to say to my partner I must say to my partner. Each week we actually set aside time to “say the thing you can’t say” to each other. Each of takes a turn telling the other every thought or feeling we felt uncomfortable or afraid to say. And we share the point of view that there is always something, so no one gets to “pass”.

On the other hand, we do not process what we share. I find it very detrimental to a loving relationship to go searching for the answer to “why?”

Talk actually gets in the way of intimacy. Everyone knows how to hide in words. It’s not very difficult to get quite adept at building arguments and debates, but our hearts are really wanting hugs and cuddles. We strive to understand WHY – Why did you say that? Why am I feeling this? Why don’t I like that? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t I learn this as a child? Why? Why? Why?

As if understanding, comprehension, analysis is the goal. But understanding is often the consolation prize, that useless toy that game shows give to the losers. And analysis often creates paralysis. In science and engineering it is often useful to search for causality (this is so because that is so), in the affairs of the human heart it is often useless. Or maybe worse than useless, causal thinking can interfere with intimacy.

I guess both talking - being honest and open and telling the truth…

and not-talking - replacing the processing and explaining with hugging and holding…

are both the parts of the anatomy of a great relationship!