When you can’t/don’t divorce, who do you choose?

I’m so sick of sarcasm and irony, I could kill!
Sincerely, the real root of things is love and sacrifice.
Ben Foster

 

 

PREAMBLE

Here’s a little joky conversation I had with a colleague recently :

As a bookseller, I order and receive hundreds of (new or not) books every month. They have their little life, and the agreement with editors is to keep each reference for at least three months (like : “Give our books a chance”). I also order older books on the occasion of (a concert, an exhibition, a movie, etc…).

So a bookseller order books, put them on shelves, and also, continuously, send them back to companies. It’s constant, a constant flow of in and out.

 

My colleague saw me pushing crates of books on wheels (as we all do almost everyday) :

– What do you do here?
– Returning books, silly!
– Sheeesh!
– What?
– You really have a problem, pal!
– And what is that problem, Sherlock?
– You return books, right?
– Yeah…
– That’s what I thought : you are wrong, somewhere, you are a bad bookseller!…
– How is that, tell me?
– You idiot should order ONLY the books that sells!
– Ohhhh! You’re a genius! Thank youuuu! I will now follow that rule!…

And we lolled.

 

ONE

I was amazed how marriage stays a milestone in America. In France, more than 50% of marriages finish in divorces, and more and more lovers choose to avoid this old tradition – the government invented the PACS (a Civil Solidarity Pact) in 1999 : “A contractual form of civil union between two adults for organizing their joint life”.

Well : it’s like legal marriage without all bunkum you say at church, and it works for same sex couples too.

For example in 2013 you got 168,000 PACS and 231,000 marriages in France.

 

TWO

What surprised me a lot when I talked to American women is that, well, you almost HAVE to marry to get a proper life (and it’s the same in many countries). Even today. If you don’t, you’re not real. You have problems with many things, including healthcare… I found out that today 83% of women get married in the USA.

 

THREE

Therefore, as you are a smart young woman, as you watch around you, you probably realized that the guy you’re pressured to marry will probably be a failure 20 years after the fabulous wedding.

The causes for divorce in USA are said : adultery, abandonment, or cruelty, though “No-fault divorce (“irreconcilable differences”, “irretrievable breakdown of marriage”, “incompatibility”, or after a separation period etc.) is now available in all states“) are now evoked.

So people divorce but many others don’t, because it has a social cost, you lose plenty of privileges, it’s boring and loneliness is frightening.

 

FOUR

Like me with my books, you never know in advance what will fail. I just “try to” guess. And I fail (of course, and happily). My little sarcastic article is about this dial :

Who do you choose, then?

The guy who will be :

1. Bored
2. Boring
3. Violent
4. Silent
5. Workaholic
6. Alcoholic
7. Sexaholic
8. Indifferent
9. Dead
10. Stupid
11. Absent because :
12. Unfaithful
13. Garage handyman
14. Sportsman
15. Hunter

 

OUTRO/TOOL

Well, as I can’t guess how many books I have to order, you can’t guess how messy your husband will become. Maybe he’ll collect staplers – that’s not so bad, right?

How could you guess? Astrology? Give him a try for a few years before getting married? Listen to your friends and family who watch him? Listen to your guts? Your brain? Watch the slopes he’s taking with you about free time, sex, conversations, food and culture? What are the criterions you could watch?

What’s the process, from now on? Marry then watch the predicted slopes? Well : it does not work. Sadly you can’t return him to the company, in a crate on wheels. Or a wheelbarrow!

Thanks for reading!

 

Painting : Levitan

 

Love is when the other person’s happiness
is more important than your own.
H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

 

 

“What am I gonna do with you?”

Tonight is a good evening. I watched a terribly bad B-Movie (in France we call these “Film Z”, a Z-movie – makes sense?), called Beyond Skyline.

There are two types of low budget Sci-Fi movies. This one is bad. Dialogs like “Move Move Move!”, or “It’s OK! Ok? Okey…”.

But I liked this one, in a way, because there’s a really genuine will to do good. And it’s so bad! Poor guys!

The other type is the Monsters type ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1470827/ ) by Gareth Edwards, who directed since : Godzilla and Rogue One. Monsters was penniless but fantastic, great, inventive, gorgeous, magic!

 

In the beginning of Beyond Skyline I found this article idea :

A father (a cop) tries to talk to his son (a rebel) in the tube (before the ETs attack the Earth, OK?), and he says him :

“What am I gonna do with you?”

 

Oh I love that sentence!!!

And well, this is the subject of this article.

“What am I gonna do with you?” means a lot.

It says something about “a link, but”. About the complexity of life. About love. About something positive (I talk to you) but negative (you’re a mess, man!). This dance of love and bond and difficulties is one of the cores of life…

“What am I gonna do with you?”

What does it mean? What kind of smile dances around it? Why? What is it to be a mess (but I need you around)? Isn’t it the REASON why we like the person, though?

 

Thanks for reading! (it’s my 800th article!)

André Breton : Union – a French poem

‘Free Union’, by André Breton.

My wife whose hair is a brush fire
Whose thoughts are summer lightning
Whose waist is an hourglass
Whose waist is the waist of an otter caught in the teeth of a tiger
Whose mouth is a bright cockade with the fragrance of a star of the first magnitude
Whose teeth leave prints like the tracks of white mice over snow
Whose tongue is made out of amber and polished glass
Whose tongue is a stabbed wafer
The tongue of a doll with eyes that open and shut
Whose tongue is an incredible stone
My wife whose eyelashes are strokes in the handwriting of a child
Whose eyebrows are nests of swallows
My wife whose temples are the slate of greenhouse roofs
With steam on the windows
My wife whose shoulders are champagne
Are fountains that curl from the heads of dolphins over the ice
My wife whose wrists are matches
Whose fingers are raffles holding the ace of hearts
Whose fingers are fresh cut hay
My wife with the armpits of martens and beech fruit
And Midsummer Night
That are hedges of privet and resting places for sea snails
Whose arms are of sea foam and a landlocked sea
And a fusion of wheat and a mill
Whose legs are spindles
In the delicate movements of watches and despair
My wife whose calves are sweet with the sap of elders
Whose feet are carved initials
Keyrings and the feet of steeplejacks
My wife whose neck is fine milled barley
Whose throat contains the Valley of God
And encounters in the bed of the maelstrom
My wife whose breasts are of night
—
And are undersea molehills
And crucibles of rubies
My wife whose breasts are haunted by the ghosts of dew-moistened roses
Whose belly is a fan unfolded in the sunlight
Is a giant talon
My wife with the back of a bird in vertical flight
With a back of quicksilver
And bright lights
My wife whose nape is of smooth worn stone and white chalk
And of a glass slipped through the fingers of someone who has just drunk
My wife with the thighs of a skiff
That are lustrous and feathered like arrows
Stemmed with the light tailbones of a white peacock
And imperceptible balance
My wife whose rump is sandstone and flax
Whose rump is the back of a swan and the spring
My wife with the sex of an iris
A mine and a platypus
With the sex of an alga and old-fashioned candles
My wife with the sex of a mirror
My wife with eyes full of tears
With eyes that are purple armour and a magnetized needle
With eyes of savannahs
With eyes full of water to drink in prisons
My wife with eyes that are forests forever under the axe
My wife with eyes that are the equal of water and air and earth and fire

L’Union libre

Ma femme à la chevelure de feu de bois
Aux pensées d’éclairs de chaleur
A la taille de sablier
Ma femme à la taille de loutre entre les dents du tigre
Ma femme à la bouche de cocarde et de bouquets d’étoiles de dernière grandeur
Aux dents d’empreinte de souris blanche sur la terre blanche
A la langue d’ambre  et de verre frottés
Ma femme à la langue d’hostie poignardée
A la langue de poupée qui ouvre et ferme les yeux
A la langue de pierre incroyable
Ma femme aux cils de bâton d’écriture d’enfant
Aux sourcils de bord de nid d’hirondelle
Ma femme aux tempes d’ardoise de toit de serre
Et de buée aux vitres
Ma femme aux épaules de champagne
Et de fontaine à têtes de dauphins sous la glace
M femme aux poignets d’allumette
Ma femme aux doigts de hasard et d’as de cœur
Aux doigts de foin coupé
Ma femme aux aisselles de martre et de fênes
De nuit de la Saint Jean
De troène et de nids de scalares
Aux bras d’écume de mer et d’écluse
Et de mélange du blé et du moulin
Ma femme aux jambes de fusée
Aux mouvements d’horlogerie et de désespoir
Ma femme aux mollets de moelle de sureau
Ma femme aux pieds d’initiales
Aux pieds de trousseaux de clefs aux pieds de calfats qui boivent
Ma femme au cou d’orge imperlé
Ma femme à la gorge de val d’or
De rendez-vous dans le lit même du torrent
Aux sens de nuit
Ma femme aux seins de taupinière marine
Ma femme aux seins de creuset du rubis
Aux seins de spectre de la rose sous la rosée
Ma femme au ventre de dépliement d’éventail des jours
Au ventre de griffe géante
Ma femme au dos d’oiseau qui fuit vertical
Au dos de vif argent
Au dos de lumière
A la nuque de pierre roulée et de craie mouillée
Et de chute d’un verre dans lequel on vient de boire
Ma femme aux hanches de nacelle
Aux hanches de lustre et de pennes de flèche
Et de tiges de plumes de paon blanc  De balance insensible
Ma femme aux fesses de grès et d’amiante
Ma femme aux fesses de dos de cygne
Ma femme aux fesses de printemps
Au sexe de glaïeul
Ma femme au sexe de placer et d’ornithorynque
Ma femme au sexe d’algue et de bonbons anciens
Ma femme au sexe de miroir
Ma femme aux yeux pleins de larmes
Aux yeux de panoplie violette et d’aiguille aimantée
Ma femme aux yeux de savane
Ma femme aux yeux d’eau pour boire en prison
Ma femme aux yeux de bois toujours sous la hache
Aux yeux de niveau d’eau de niveau d’air de terre et de feu

 

Instagram : bodylanguage

Another translation :

Free Union

My wife with the hair of a wood fire
With the thoughts of heat lightning
With the waist of an hourglass
With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger
My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of the last magnitude
With the teeth of tracks of white mice on the white earth
With the tongue of rubbed amber and glass
My wife with the tongue of a stabbed host
With the tongue of a doll that opens and closes its eyes
With the tongue of an unbelievable stone
My wife with the eyelashes of strokes of a child’s writing
With brows of the edge of a swallow’s nest
My wife with the brow of slates of a hothouse roof
And of steam on the panes
My wife with shoulders of champagne
And of a fountain with dolphin-heads beneath the ice
My wife with wrists of matches
My wife with fingers of luck and ace of hearts
With fingers of mown hay
My wife with armpits of marten and of beechnut
And of Midsummer Night
Of privet and of an angelfish nest
With arms of seafoam and of riverlocks
And of a mingling of the wheat and the mill
My wife with legs of flares
With the movements of clockwork and despair
My wife with calves of eldertree pith
My wife with feet of initials
With feet of rings of keys and Java sparrows drinking
My wife with a neck of unpearled barley
My wife with a throat of the valley of gold
Of a tryst in the very bed of the torrent
With breasts of night
My wife with breasts of a marine molehill
My wife with breasts of the ruby’s crucible
With breasts of the rose’s spectre beneath the dew
My wife with the belly of an unfolding of the fan of days
With the belly of a gigantic claw
My wife with the back of a bird fleeing vertically
With a back of quicksilver
With a back of light
With a nape of rolled stone and wet chalk
And of the drop of a glass where one has just been drinking
My wife with hips of a skiff
With hips of a chandelier and of arrow-feathers
And of shafts of white peacock plumes
Of an insensible pendulum
My wife with buttocks of sandstone and asbestos
My wife with buttocks of swans’ backs
My wife with buttocks of spring
With the sex of an iris
My wife with the sex of a mining-placer and of a platypus
My wife with a sex of seaweed and ancient sweetmeat
My wife with a sex of mirror
My wife with eyes full of tears
With eyes of purple panoply and of a magnetic needle
My wife with savanna eyes
My wife with eyes of water to drink in prison
My wife with eyes of wood always under the axe
My wife with eyes of water-level of level of air earth and fire

So you trashed everything your ex offered you?

Books & Scarves, hop in the trash!

Some people, after a break up, trash everything – “It comes from my ex”.

Good!

But I’m a constructivist, thus I know things are… “things”, the value is not “into” things.

The value of things is conferred.

By me.

And by the way, this great shirt is just a great shirt.

Err I won’t trash it.

I keep things I like. A good scarf looks good on me, and it’s warm. Period.

If I have to trash my scarf, it seems to mean : “I’m haunted by the past”, right?

“I loved this scarf, but today I’m terrified by it. Kill kill kill!”

I’m not haunted by “the past into a scarf”. The past is always interesting!

And it’s not into a thing.

If someone offered me a book, I will keep it as a good sign. And read it.

Good things stay good things : I just CAN decide it’s this way.

So I keep good things, in some states of mind :

1. This comes from a good moment, that built me.
2. I’m not “haunted” by imaginary feelings included in the thing.
3. It’s useful and I like it.
4. Dramaqueening is for teens.

 

“My now bf/gf is bothered by my ex’s things”. What about your body, then?

“What if my ex is now my enemy?”. What? Really? OK then. Trash your shirt. This book too. Voilà. Done. And now? Hmm? Feeling better? Any change? Anywhere?

 

I have some paintings on my wall which were given to me more than 25 years ago (by an ex). I have so many books. Yes : scarves, pens, a lamp, whatever. My mind-house is built on old stories. I love it!

And it’s a windy winter, brrrr…

You can also read :

• Why I talk to my exes
• You’re great / You’re not great anymore : has your talent evaporated?

 

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

An empty letter from Madagascar (Silence Treatments Types)

I keep letters (and mails). All of them. It’s like a diary. It’s like traveling in time, being in two persons’ brains, “dialog archeology”, you feel the water under the bridge, too. And if the person died, you can talk with him/her endlessly.

 

I found an old letter in which a friend told me that she dated a guy and lived a few weeks of love before breaking up, because he was too intense, toxic, and jealous. Drama! He said he would left the country to live in Madagascar, and that he will never talk to her again! Then he disappeared…

One day, years later, she got an envelope. From Madagascar. She didn’t open it : it was empty.

She wrote me about her boiling brain since : Was it a mistake? Cruelty? A symbol? A paradox (“I think of you but I won’t talk”)? A “Hello”? In fact, she was so moved that it’s been good to her. It made her think about herself, about life, about him, about moving forward, etc…

 

This kind of cruelty made me think about the concept of “Silence Treatment“.

Silence Treatment always had many faces. And even in the Eighties and before, you already could play with it :

1. To sulk in a couple (for days, why not)
2. To disappear without an address
3. To commit suicide
4. Abandoned child
5. Quitting your best friend for ever because he/she went too far

Who does that and why? To manipulate? To forget? Protection? Cruelty? Stupidity?

 

Now we have smartphones and the Internet, tools outnumber old possibilities. You can just BLOCK someone one Facebook, Whatsapp, Skype, Email, etc… – and all pertaining games :

• you can block the blocker, so there!
• you can unblock someone, say something and reblock him/her (just to imagine the boiling process – which, beware could steam back… where it can).
• you can use real mail (paper) to bypass (I love when reality hits the virtual fan!).

 

I know a friend who has been almost destroyed by a lunatic pervert (living on the other side of an ocean) who constantly contacted her, flooded her with love and promises then disappeared for months for no reason, in a loop, keeping her disarmed in a boiling despair for years.

Silence treatment is dreadful (see, I learned a new word!), and we should only use it for protection.

 

Thus I’m back thinking about the empty letter from Madagascar. As an optimist, I choose this (because I choose to think people can’t be “that” mean) : It was a way for the guy to say “I promised I won’t talk to you anymore, but here’s something to show you I think of you, though”.

Awweeeeee!…

 

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ve never said that!”

There are dozens of articles about manipulators, but I loved this one :

http://iheartintelligence.com/2017/08/23/end-emotionally-draining-relationship/

The author lists 4 signs, which are :

1. Twist what you’ve said in their favor
2. “I never said that!”
3. Play the victim
4. Belittle all of your problems

It’s a great article, and today I focus on 2.

“I’ve never said that!”

When you hear it from a person you love, you immediately fall from horse. Then you wonder what’s happening…

• Why so much bad faith?
• Are you victim of hallucinations?
• Why does he/she lie?
• Maybe he/she really forgot?
• You’re emotionally manipulated then : what for?
• To get something?

Then you hear :

• “You got me wrong”
• “You’re too serious”
• “You invent stories”
• “You try to manipulate me”
• “I was joking”
• “You expect too much”
• “You’re always complaining”

 

Well, etc. You are a prey, that’s it. You’re confused, and that’s the purpose of it…

“They will convince you you are just inventing problems. That you are seeking to find them.That you are ungrateful. You are weak. You are stressing them out. You are just not good with finding solutions. You focus so much on the bad. You exaggerate. And so on.”

 

The manipulator will always accuse you of what he/she’s doing. You’re dramatic. You use him/her to entertain. They have “trust issues” exactly when you shouldn’t trust them. Etc.

 

As you’re intelligent, you notice all this, your “knowledge of the other” is growing and you begin to pack your ideas in your mind to stay safe. But then, of course, the manipulator changes his/her face. Becomes a treasure again (although never sorry for what happened). You melt. You’re done.

If you’re married there is no solution. Find your own way to escape (hunting, biking, muscling, whatever) and try to explode in rage the less you can. Murdering your demon not good. Jail not good. Breathe.

 

Oh, to finish this. There’s only one thing to understand if you don’t already know it : they will NEVER accept they’re like that. It’s maybe the dark core of all manipulators – there is no cure, ever.

 

You can also read : Signs of Bad Signs : our shades of narcissism and Narration of cold sadism as low form of gaiety : a narcissistic tropism

Thanks for reading!

 

Instagram : _bodylanguage_

 

“Love at first sight” wisdoms…

For “Love at first sight“, we French say “Un coup de foudre” (a lightning strike), a clear metaphor? Bzam!! Like it?

We’ve all been there, I suppose : you walk your life seriously, and in a second you are suddenly, completely amazed by a face, a smile, someone. Look at you, now!…

If a love story ensues, well, you know… it doesn’t work “that” often. And many grown adults are very cautious with this love-at-first-sight thing. “Beware!”, says the 40 to the 20…

In a way, that’s pretty logical. Love at first sight means – and implies – you fell in love with… graphic proportions. You fell in love with some eyes, a mouth, a face… right?

And, well, graphic proportions are NOT a person.

OK. Yes. Right. But…

First of all, you can’t do nothing against a loveatfirstsightcrush. Just shut up and notice how stupid you become, haha.

So…

There’s a place where you’re a grown adult. You’ve been hurt by failures and break ups, blah blah blah, and you tend to think :

“As it ought to be, love at first sight is bullshite, therefore I should choose my lover with a good dose of reason”.

A person you appreciate “reasonably“, right?

Good!

But you grow more up. You gain experience. You’ve known many more people. Your brain is, like, trained to guess who is a person you meet. Watch her/him walk, talk, smile…

Voilà.

My theory here is : I am pretty sure that “Love at first sight”, when you’re 40 or 50, is more… accurate. You don’t fall in love in a second because of a smile, a winking eye, a silver voice. You DO, but because you guessfelt – much more : the rest of the person, the way (s)he talks, the way (s)he walks, stands up, questions you, looks at you. Energy.

And yes, you’re a sapiosexual, right? Thus…

Whatever.

You silly poor little brother, sister, you can’t resist (you will never be able to resist) to this “BAM!” feeling. Your whole personality seems to be ready to fall on your ass because of. That’s how we’re built, probably. There’s maybe an agent in our mind, doing this, keeping an eye out for…

Crush. Let go. Try to be smart, though. Hold on your wheel. Be happy. And if you’re not, you know, you have these “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” quotes, etc…

After all, maybe a good part of REASON is now incrusted, embedded into your loveatfirstsightness? It would be a strange effective braid, right?

Maybe you’ve found your sidekick, I mean your REAL one. You’re good now! Marry her! Him! C’est la vie !

 

Thanks for reading! Have a nice day!

 

 

 

You’re great / You’re not great anymore : has your talent evaporated?

Break-ups are interesting – for this little dial.

When your lover is your lover, he (or she) admires what you do. And who you are, obviously.

You’re a great poet, a “great photographer”, a great musician, a great lecturer. “You’re great my love!”. “I love your work to much!”.

That’s cool, that’s common, that’s very invigorating : you have talent!

But after the break-up you’re not. You’re not “anymore”.

Blehhh!

You’re not that good anymore. You’re not a good photographer. You music is boring. You poems, lame. Shame on you, now! It seems that exes are exes.

Well, so what? Where’s the truth, Brady?

Your mind wonders. Your brain thinks. Your engine engines :

• Maybe you “suddenly” are not good anymore really. You lost it!
• Maybe he/she changed his/her mind.
• Maybe he/she was fake from the beginning : you’ve never been good! Bim!
• Maybe you stayed talented, gifted, but he/she won’t admit it. Pride.
• Maybe you’re good, but he/she’s not interested now.
• Maybe he/she found better. It’s relativism. You’re good but less good than.
• Maybe he/she HAS to stay silent. Because.

 

What do you think? What happened?

Thanks for reading!

 

from Instagram: http://ift.tt/2gL8YjG

Embrace, Clasp, Sweet Immobility…

Nahhh it’s not a “hug”, it’s not sex, not at all!

It’s when you’re in bed with your lover. You hold each other.

Each couple has its way. You can hold hands. You can hold the other one like a baby. You can protect your lover. You can lay one next to the other, and hold hands only. You can stare at each other, or close your eyes. You can… spoon.

You know exactly what to to. And you know exactly when you both don’t move anymore…

Right?

Here you are.

Immobility

Then, after a moment, it stops. Your desire climbs. Or… you talk. Words weaving, words of love. Or you laugh – too much happiness!

 

Have a nice Sunday!

 

 

From Quarrel to Joust : Elevation process

When your couple needs to fight, you argue. You can stay at reptilian or prehistoric levels : you scream, play flying plates & slamming doors, scream louder, or you can try to move the cursor up.

If your quarrelsome mood – oh what a great word! – needs to unfold, there’s are some wrong ways up like becoming sarcastic or using bad faith, stupidity or violent communication (one define the other : “You’re like your mother”, “You’re lazy”), silence icy treatment or using poor innocent third parties (the kids?).

I propose to rise from these low levels of arguing. Of course you can use Reason. If you know Transactional Analysis you can begin to dissect your communication and try to put it on “Adult -> Adult” mode. That’s OK! Think. Or ask a intermediary (not your mother-in-law!) to play the diplomatic card.

My purpose here is to imagine another “Right Way Up” : Jousting. It’s a change of mood. You fight… with a smile for the other. It’s a sparkling competition. Emulation is the key. It can become a game. You can really invent rules like : “You can’t speak until you waited two minutes in silence after I did, I’ll do the same”, or “Argue on both sides of a table… with pen & paper” (find your own rules).

Jousting is a clever way to quarrel. It’s like when you play chess with a friend, emulation is the key. You want victory but you help your opponent to climb too.”Right Path Up”. Finding solutions… and at the same time satisfy your need to fight. Joust!

 

Of course if you read my blog you know that there’s a pattern here, a tool for other situations : Elevation. When and where (and how) do you realize that you’re on a low level? Gaiety? Entertainment? Sex? When you’re in a useful place but you should maybe stop, think and push a lever. Which lever is it? Subtlety. Right?

This pattern is described here : https://afrenchtoolbox.wordpress.com/2015/08/07/a-matter-of-levers/

Thanks for reading!

 

Instagram : such_a_pretty_crazy

Counseling for couples : “Please become someone else”

Yes, yes, it’s a mess. It hurts. Toxicity and boredom alert! She wants to find the “second wind” of your marriage, le “second souffle”. “Counseling?”, she says? Your answer is YES. You’d better!

Then you have to “tell your story”, then listen to huge bullshbleep from a “professional”, many times.

Then, home, you try to do “as if” – at least for a few exhausting months. You know your flaws, right? You’ll “work” on them. Be ready. You’re on a mission now.

Let’s make it short :

“Please become someone else”

So here you are, with a list of “things to change” for your wife. “People can evolve!”, she says! You have four choices :

1. You obey. Beck and call. Do that, and this too. Bravo! Your flaws vanished into magic. You will get tears of joy from her eyes, great hashtags on her social medias (#bestmoment #happymarriage), and a little more hanky-twalala-panky, probably. Reward it is.
2. You really do “as if”. It’s about acting, now. It’s impossible to change really, because of course nobody changes, ever, but you can really do “as if”. You want to keep her, right? It’ll last the necessary length of time… until she sees it. Then you’re on you own.
3. You say firmly “no”, and you’re done. Conflict and drama. Hold the wheel, buddy! Maybe find another therapist, later. A better one, OK?
4. You run away and find an easier companion. Breathe. Life is made of dotted lines, after all. Next!
5. Alcohol, accident, heart attack (or other self-sabotage), or any other boring “I go out” : anything DIY in the garage, work-out, biking, duck hunting. Some people even have two bedrooms!

Your choice?

Tools :

This was of course a sarcastic text. There are good professionals. Most of them are good listeners. They take big money to do that and that’s normal. Then, they will probably try to make you understand this : Your spouse won’t change, you have to accept your couple-dynamics.

“But wait, this means I should change myself ? You just said it’s impossible!”

Well : welcome into marriage!

In French we say :

Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop – “Shoo away your nature, it comes back at full tilt”

Well, I think you say “The leopard can’t change its spots”.

Can he?

 

Have a nice day!

<< Please become what I want you to be >>

The Giving up & Parking Life Temptation

When you hear break-up stories and broken hearts from teens and young people, you smile, right? We’ve all been there, and we all know it’s time for grief, and then one day the sun rises again, and a marvelous man/woman enters the room, and here we go again!

Smile. Moving forward. Find your silver lining. Plenty of fishes in the sea, right?

Comes an age when you begin to smile less. You got a cancer, or your husband died stupidly in a car accident, or the woman you wanted to marry chose an Egyptian flea circus trainer – not you!

You’ve been through shit-hits-the-fan tempests before, you know that another dawn will come. Well, you hope it will. Or you don’t know any more…

Giving up is a possibility, and I see so many sixty years old (mainly women, OK) who decided to park their love life that I’m questioning myself. Why not, after all?

Many people will say you’re complaisant – they think of you like you were a teenager, happy clap-your-hands two days after a boyfriend text-break-up. You consider to not even answer : when this happens to you at mid-life, it hurts much, much more. Your capacity of comprehension is much bigger, and this is exactly why you lost your smile : Big Shit happened, your vessel has stopped, all sails tornripped. Your game is on the ground like a dirty puzzle. You’re fucking wounded!

Parking your life is a way to heal, you’re right. Just this : you have to know that you will maybeventually stay there. Healed, but full of ugly scars. Haunted by a hand in your hair…

Have a nice day!

 

 

When you hate someone and 3 mn later you deeply love this person

“When you hate someone and 3 minutes later you deeply love this person”, makes me think of some 2 French idioms :

Avoir du répondant : “To have some answering”. You have in English “To have an answer for everything”, but the French one is VERY different. It’s much more positive, it’s a skill, a happy skill. It’s great to have a friend or a partner who “have some answering”. It means you can fight without anger, like a conversation game : you know that the other is strong enough to play with you, to say “No I disagree” without anger. “Avoir du répondant” is to be smart, fast, effective and strong in conversation. I would add “joyful” to the list.

In conversation, or in sex, or in dance (tango!), or in creativity. You need nerve, decisions, propositions and muscles on your side, right?

 

Ni avec toi, ni sans toi : “Nor with you, nor without you”. It’s a quirky dance. You cannot stand to be with someone : both will be torn apart quickly. “I hate you, demon!. But you cannot stand to be without this personne more than 3 minutes. Because she/he has some answering : Cette personne a du répondant. It’s great to talk. You’re alive. There’s gold, a bond. Come on… “I’ll love you forever whatever”…

What a strange loop!

 

Thanks for reading!

Changing the past is a cool way to be mean

Changing the past is a cool way to be mean!

Imagine you are with an ex-lover. You have a good opportunity to be nasty-bitchy! Of course, you don’t love each other anymore, these things happen all the time, right? No big deal.

But you can add something today, with the help of words :

Change the past!

(OK, in fact you will NOT change the past, it’s not really something you can do, right?)

You just have to tell your ex that… what you lived together was : (here, you have many possibilities : “fake”, “a lie”, “wrong”, “difficult”, “a mistake”, etc).

What you lived was great, at the time, you know it, OK? You showed it and lived it, and you said it too. Now : you just say the contrary, change the past, say you were “incompatible”, or that you “faked it”, etc… You’ll find your way. She just has to understand that she disappointed you.

Of course, this has no other purpose than to be mean, OK?

The consequences are cool : 

• You ex will have a painful moment of doubt, like “OMG maybe he’s right, it was faked, all incompatibility and blindness”.
• Then she’ll be hurt by the fact that she could really live all this love story like an illusion.
• Then she’ll be hurt by the loss of good memories, which will now turn into bitterness. “OH then it was not true??!”.
• Then, after a while, she’ll remember, she’ll realize that, well, “we were probably REALLY happy”, then she’ll be hurt to realize that her ex told her that… to be mean.
• Then she’ll be more hurt to try to understand WHY this ex-lover would like to be this mean to her…

Whatever : you reached your goal.

Almost.

Because, well, there’s probably some gold left, in her heart. She knows. And, by Jove!, it was a cool love story!

Well, you can now add some points by talking about how cool is your life now. Without her, of course. Justifies the means. This works pretty well.

The other part (changing the past) does not work for a long time. Gold is there, has been discovered, and no magic (but death) can kill the gold. She already forgave him. She is grateful. Love is a good energy, after all, right?

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

The Quirky Dance of Double Rejection

When I was in my twenties I was reading all Chögyam Trungpa‘s books. This guy (a “preeminent teacher of Tibetan Buddhism”) taught me many things. One of them was :

“Let go when someone tells you to get lost”

Trungpa says that if you nag & beg this person, then you’ll become a demon (he uses this word). I didn’t find again the exact quote, but I remember he was also talking about this image :

1. The rejecter is walking, he says “get lost”.
2. The rejected is begging and becomes a demon.

Well, I think we’ve all been there, that makes sense, right? This article is about what happens next.

• The rejected understands.
• Stops walking, and shuts up.
• (It’s his way to say : “Fine! Get lost too!”)
• He walks again, back on his own path.
• Silent double walk.

See me coming? Yes you do! OK, take a deep breath and visualize this :

• The rejecter slows down, now, thoughtfully.
• Then he walks in front of the other walker.
• He says : “Let’s talk”.
• The other walker doesn’t slow down, thinking the three-letters : “WTF”.
• He walks, it’s his turn to say “Get lost!”.
• Voilà!

It’s why I called quirky this strange dance, which exist between complicated lovers of course, but also between friends, family, spouses, siblings, companies, etc.

The rejecter rejects then is being rejected by the one he rejected when he doesn’t want to reject the other one anymore.

Make a loop of this. Dance.

Dial, then Lever :

What do we do of this dial? What does that mean? Is there an invisible string between the two walkers, a bond? What should they do? What should they say? How to stop the dance? Walk on more distant path? Having fun eventually? Realize it’s a dance and it could be great? Tango?

Thanks for reading!

 

Instagram : such_a_pretty_crazy

Intimacy as “reading a book together” : Chronicle 10

Today I learned an english word : “Suitor“. In French we say “Un prétendant”… isn’t it a bit strange?

Immediately I wondered : is it always masculine? What would be a “female suitor”? A suitress? Nahhh…

Big Love (capitals, please) and Passion, we need to cross this in life, right? But when you become an adult you’re more interested by spending quality time together. You are quieter, you share, you think about this thing which is called : INTIMACY.

Tonight I thought about this, thanks to a New York Times article, a letter from a couple : the husband was explaining that his wife was ill and tired, just out of hospital, so he began to read books to her.

THAT is intimacy, that is love, the love I love.

Maybe I’m too French romantic, but watching an Art Book with the woman I love has been a totally tender and satisfying experience. Weirdly, I would remember these moments more than sex.

You don’t need 142 suitors. Just look for a man who is able to have a ten hours conversation with you (seems like ten minutes, right?). Just look for a girl who will REALLY be interested in watching some Art book you have on your shelves, asking, talking, smiling, turning the pages, initiating conversations, etc, etc, etc.

You know that kind of intimacy, right?

Thanks for reading!

 

Pictures : Poumeyrol

“I like your last name, can I have it?”

“I like your last name, can I have it?”

Wishes, Willpower, Drive : the “I want to eat the world” state

The “I want to eat the world” state is a strange disease. I think we all cross this state at different parts of our life :

• When you’re a teen.
• When you’re about 20 years old.
• When you really fall in love for the first time.
• When you ineffectively want to express something through art or writing.
• In midlife crisis after you watched your life and said “Now what?”.
• Under intense boredom.

You feel FILLED of energy, wishes, willpower, drive, but there’s also a huge frustration.

This frustration comes from a powerlessness, an incapacity to find a way to unfoldblossom this strength. You want to eat the world, but how?

Because :

• You have the drive but not the purpose or the goal.
• You have the drive but not strength enough (or any more).
• You have the drive but you’re stuck in the cages of your own life.
• You don’t have enough time, or money, or anything : you lack.
• You never find where to apply this energy.
• Everything you try fails.
• Your heart is burnt to the ground and your tired.
• You feel you’d need some help, but you get zero.
• I boils inside without any apparent way out for this steam.

So what now what? Well, nothing! Either you find, or not. Try ways to explore, to steampipework something. Begin things and watch. Ask around you. Invent goals for this energy.

If it fails, well, just watch and feel it boiling inside. That’s the acceptorian oriental way…

Thanks for reading!

Instagram : bodylanguage

 

 

 

 

Drunk texts/Sad texts/Angry texts/Sleepy texts

The idea of texting (which is : “words, on phones, between two persons, in real time”) has some consequences.

Emojis help you to color/read sentences, but not all the time.

Beware of arguments in textings!

Texting contains a whole bag of possible problems.

It’s fast : you write and send, you don’t have the quiet comfort of emails, which you can polish for hours or days before sending.

You miss the context, the sound of voice, the eyes, the gestures.

Emojis are false friends. They indicate when it’s humor, for example, but they don’t say about the subtilities. Is the fun colored by sarcasm? Alcohol? Nonsense?

So, as a reader, you often guess well where’s your conversation partner – “He’s drunk, let’s take this in consideration”, or “it’s 3 AM there, I suppose she’s sleepy”. But sometimes, you don’t, you just DON’T!

Someone’s sad. Or had a drink. Or just learned really bad news (but can’t tell you). Etc.

You just have to guess. Build, in real time, your own dials.

The tools are easy to define :

• Don’t have long serious conversations in texting, it’s dangerous.
• If you can’t avoid it, be both aware. Meta-communicate around it.
• If you have to, or if you have to argue, call. Voice.
• Don’t forget you don’t have the gesture and the eyes and expression of your friend.
• Therefore, don’t put the other’s speech in serious boxes. These boxes are probably inaccurate. Or invent them alive, moving, mutating, fragile.
• Listen to your intelligence and to your guts : If you feel that something is wide of the mark, pay closer attention.
• Never hesitate to ask details, a time to think, or an explanation.
• Ask for a change of media : email, voice, real meeting.
• Meta-Communicate again, if you’re hesitating, ask about the mood of your partner.

Etc. Have a nice day! Follow me!

 

 

The Splendid Paradox of #Divorce

I never married, and I will never understand the idea of divorce, it’s like a loop in my head. Why would you ever consider to divorce… since you are married??! Isn’t marriage a commitment? Then, well, it’s exactly it : when you meet a problem, some difficulties, betrayal, whatever, you’re supposed to work on it, right? Because, well, you’re MARRIED! So yes, I realize that I’m much more solemn than I should be. Or not : I never married, after all. Voilà!

Tool : what is a commitment? As it IS a commitment, what can it bring to you? What if you feel prisoner, in a cage? What if a commitment was REALLY a commitment, which means that you can’t even have the possibility to consider there’s a way to change or cut it? Can this happen in friendship, like the “Best Friends Forever” you hear in teens’ mouths? What if it was a real commitment?

Instagram : ___bodylanguage___