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NAVIGATING RELATIONSHIPS IN A DIGITAL WORLD
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P
eople, we have an information
that girl Petra from high school, whom
will show you how it feels and what it
given double thumbs up, in real life and
¶Every week, I field text
6-pound 8-ounce baby named Falcon.
your eyes and see. Guess what? Same
of discernment. It wants what it wants
problem.
messages and calls from friends and clients in a state of panic with their
fingers on the trigger (née the send button).
Why is he doing that?
Why is she acting like that? Does he like me? Is she ready for a relationship? Is he using me for sex? Does she still love me? ¶Each time, I find myself repeating the same four words over and over
again: You need more information. And with each repetition, I laugh, because that seems like an insane thing to be advertising in these times.
¶In the so-called Information/Digital/ Computer Age, we have no problem
acquiring vast amounts of information on our devices. One would think that the last thing we need is more of it.
We are masters at digesting thoughts in 140-character sentences, stalking
an ex lover, keeping up with the Ebola outbreak, scoring a Soul Cycle bike,
finding a city’s best ramen, uncovering a naked celebrity body, predicting where ISIS will strike next and knowing that
we haven’t seen in a decade, had a
¶We. Are. Pros. Seriously, our thumbs are killing it.
¶And, they are also killing our ability to
acquire a vast amount of information via humans. I’m referring to those beings
that talk to you, touch you, look you in the eye, laugh at you, ignore you, hurt you, make love to you. You know the
living breathing things that you come
into contact with in lines, at restaurants, on planes, at work, in your home and in your bed?
¶We want to understand the other,
but we forget a rather obvious thing. We forget that we are animals living
in an unnatural habitat. If we were in the proverbial wild, the kind of wild where we didn’t have little tracking
devices that acted as extensions of our
own internal rhythms, things would be seriously different. Yes, our behavior would be wildly different. We suffer
from electronic amnesia and it’s that
amnesia that perpetuates this unnatural habitat.
¶You want to know if the lion is hungry?
It will kill. You want to know if the lion is tired? It will sleep. You want to know if
the lion is threatened? It will attack. You want to know if it’s mating season? It
will mount. This extraordinary creature
wants and all you need to do is open thing goes for our concrete jungle.
¶Our analog bodies are living in an
increasingly digital world and if we want to understand another being, we need
to resurrect the dying art of observation. We need to see how human beings move through the part of our environment
that is not built on the binary code. We need to literally and figuratively sit on our hands. We need to put down our
devices, do nothing and quit looking for unaffected answers in artificial places. ¶When fellow humans make us feel
perplexed, insecure or unsafe, we go
right to our phones and computers to figure out why. Screw postal, we go
digital. We comb Instagram or Facebook for answers and send text messages or
emails to elicit responses and reactions. We try to hit a bull’s eye, but that is
almost impossible to do if we are letting our egos pull the trigger. It usually
backfires, and then, well, we just want to recoil.
¶See, the ego hates rejection and
nothingness. ‘No response is a response’ is the number one cause of ego death in the texting generation. Our ego wants to be pursued and desired. Our ego
wants to be the one that gets him or
her to commit. It wants to be liked and
on the Internet. Our ego is not a place
without real consideration of what the
other human being is showing us. It can completely get in the way of our heart
really seeing and feeling another person. ¶You want to know if he likes you? He
will pursue you. You want to know if you are her priority? She won’t book things
three weeks out. You want to know if he only wants sex? He won’t spend quality time with you outside of the bedroom.
You want to know if she loves you? She will communicate it to you in her own way every day.
¶Sit back. Open your eyes. Increase your awareness. Observe.
¶Once you’ve collected some genuine data, you can always try something
more advanced and evolved. You can
put down your electronic weapon, look that creature in the eye with zero fear and open up that mouth of yours. The
ability to use language to communicate
is one of the many things that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. And, I’m going to have faith that
electronic amnesia doesn’t force that into extinction too.
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MY LOVER, MY ALTAR
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I
have altared the way I see my partner.
¶In relationships, I’ve also been guilty
approach my man altar, that constant
act of devotion to the kind of love you
published an article titled “Science
f-bomb part). I can be cruel just like
generosity and respect.
more generous in a partnership than
¶A month ago, Business Insider
Says Lasting Relationships Come Down to Two Basic Traits.” Numerous people posted it on their Facebook pages and at least ten people, men and women, forwarded the article to me. In it,
the journalist showed how from the
Gottman’s 1986 and 1990 studies of
relationship “Masters” and “Disasters” to Shelly Gable’s 2006 study on the
importance of the “active constructive response,” kindness and generosity emerge as the two most important
components in a successful relationship. ¶If you’re a living, breathing human
being, then this finding should make complete sense to you. But you also know that living, breathing human
beings screw those two up all the time. ¶Every day I see couples treat
each other poorly. They desecrate and decimate, creating a cloud of
dysfunction. They drop the f-bomb when the other one fails to flag an
available cab, hate on each other’s
families, roll their eyes when their lover orders the wrong dish, or stomp their feet when they forget a simple task. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve
wanted to lean over to the table next to
me and tell the arguing couple to cut their losses, walk away, and start over again.
of some of the above (especially the
anyone else. There have been moments where I’ve brought out the worst in my
partner and vice versa. But I don’t grow in a hostile environment and neither
do my partners, so over the last couple
of years, I’ve made a conscious effort to weed out my bad behavior. And when I
read that article, I found myself nodding and agreeing as if I had done the research and written it myself.
¶Science and spirituality have a
complicated relationship (some say no relationship at all). But to me, loving
someone is a spiritual practice -- and
now it seems the science just proves my point. In practice I’ve made it simple: I approach my beloved as if they are an altar.
¶These days, I choose to see my
partner as a symbol, an emblem of
love, opposed to love itself. My partner is a physical representation of love in
the same way a statue of Shakyamuni
Buddha is a physical representation of enlightenment. Love itself is infinite
and eternal and cannot be contained
by a physical body. But the way I treat that symbol or body, that somebody, is indicative of my level of reverence for the love between us. And like
any devoted believer, I try to always
reminder of the love, with humility, ¶Altars are traditionally a place for sacrifice, and offerings used to be
kind of messy -- a slaughtered goat,
perhaps. With this in mind, I’ve always found it particularly funny that we say we’re “leading someone to the altar” when talking about marriage. But
dead animals and divorce rates aside, contemporary offerings come in the form of candles, money, incense, or prayer.
¶I have a beautiful altar in my
house where Kwan Yin, Goddess of
Compassion, resides among treasures from my different spiritual journeys: a stick I picked up from the Tor in
Glastonbury, mala beads from Bhutan, an ancient fertility Goddess necklace
from my Auntie, a hamsa from Israel, and minerals ranging from clear
quartz to emerald. When I’m having trouble writing or sorting through
something, I often sit in front of it. I light some incense, quiet my thoughts, and deepen my breath. I concentrate on
these meaningful symbols and connect to them as an act of devotion to the consciousness I’m seeking.
¶And echoing this practice,
concentrating on your partner, regularly connecting to the way you treat them is
are seeking. I cannot imagine anything offering up your best self. An act
of generosity, that also shows your
appreciation. In the Business Insider
piece, Gottman states that successful couples:
¶Are scanning the social environment for things they can appreciate and say thank you for. They are building this
culture of respect and appreciation very purposefully.
Respect. Purpose. I like those words.
They are words of reverence. Of course, sometimes stuff gets hard and we say
and do things we don’t mean. And just last night (the night before this article was due), I slipped. I found myself in
a heated conversation in which I said something I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t
respectful, and I didn’t do it on purpose. I was totally offering up my worst self. But the misstep was perfectly timed,
as was the dream I just woke up from.
I was kneeling at the feet of a beloved,
heart full of love, repeating an important three-word mantra that we all know well.
¶And this morning, I know that I need
to be generous. I also know exactly what I’m going to offer up to my altar: ¶“I. AM. SORRY.”
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HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU: THE INS AND OUTS OF REJECTION Ellie Burrows explains why we get rejected – and why we should go crazy trying to figure out what we could’ve done differently.
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R
ejection.
¶“Our heart connection was too intense
¶Easy. Lots of attractive women, lots of
and perfect as they may be, than to
¶People generally default
¶That all sounds weird, right?
Makes lots of sense.
just reject one girl, the one that was
¶Let’s go there.
to their insecurities when it comes to
rejection. They assume that the object of their desire ended things because they were bad in bed or fat or didn’t
play it cool enough. If only I had shaved my legs, didn’t ask about his ex, or fart in the middle of the night…
¶Ugh, and then there’s that famous
line: “it’s not you, it’s me.” Although it
has had a long running monopoly over
the rejection marketplace, its value has significantly diminished. It feels cheap and wimpy because, of course, he or she is breaking up with you because you have the worst morning breath
ever. Why couldn’t they just be honest? ¶In our search for a reason and in an attempt to get a handle on the
unknown, we turn on ourselves. We
beat ourselves up, often making less
sense in an effort to make more sense.
We cast blame to satiate our desire for answers we will likely never get and
engage in an unreasonable search for a reason.
¶But we so rarely, if ever, consider that the reason we are rejected is because
things are “right” and that’s what make things so wrong. No one ever says: ¶“I’m wonderful and that’s why it didn’t work out.”
¶“The sex was mind-blowing,
conversation electric, and compatibility was off the charts. Naturally, we broke up.”
¶“He was fantastic so I just couldn’t do it.”
so I ended it.” ¶Wrong.
¶Meet Clark. He’s chiseled everywhere.
availability, lots of variety, lots of sex. She was an actual viable option for a
Everything about him is strong and
partner so that made her a non-starter.
The whole thing is one seriously
¶Fascinating. Seems to make no sense.
incredibly seductive and deeply
liked her. She was beautiful, smart, and
clearly defined: face, body, brain.
attractive package. He’s a lethal combo: emotionally wounded by his mother. Let’s leave it at that.
¶He’s the guy you want to heal. He’s the guy you want to fix. He’s the guy that
makes you want to pick up your power tools and go to work. He’s the guy that
makes you want to be the different one, the one that got him to commit.
¶More often than not, he’s the guy
you date, fool around with, and then
it abruptly ends. He’s the guy that can
take your pants off with his words but vanishes without a trace. Maybe ten
percent of women that he’s bedded get
some semblance of a goodbye text. And
somehow when he leaves, she feels like there was something wrong with her.
¶I had breakfast with Clark last week. He’s a friend. I asked him about a
certain girl that he met a while back.
And he said one of the more fascinating things I heard all week:
¶“There was so much sex falling into
my bed at the time. That, and she was
an actual viable option as a partner, so that made her a non-starter.”
¶Wow. Let’s break this down.
There was so much sex falling into my bed.
¶See, this girl was a babe. He really
ambitious. The text banter was very
high level. She made him feel funny on the inside and stupidly smile on the
outside and found himself distracted
at work. He made out with her once, on
their first date - it was better than good. They kept texting and talking but the
second date never happened. He sort of stood her up and blamed it on his
phone dying. She was so right that she
was totally wrong. He had to reject her. ¶Not following? Hear me out. When
you choose to be with one person, you decide. I learned the following saying from one of my teachers “genocide,
suicide, pesticide, decide.” This suffix,“cide,” means you kill whatever comes
before it. To choose someone, to decide
to be with one person, means killing off all the other possibilities, killing off all that sex that is “falling into the bed.” ¶And while we’re having an English lesson, “de” can mean privation,
removal, or separation. Inherent in
the decision to choose one person, is
the rejection of a thousand others. In
fact, when you think about it, choosing someone is actually the biggest act of
rejection of all time. So sometimes it is easier to reject one person, wonderful
reject a thousand others. If Clark could right, then he could choose all the
others. Kind of a mindf*ck, don’t you think?
¶On a singular level, it’s hard for our
egos to understand this. It just wants to
know why it wasn’t chosen. But if we go into the heart, we can find compassion – and maybe even an answer.
¶Choosing someone means potentially
making a pit stop at Devastation Station or the Heartbreak Hotel. The things
that are required for a relationship namely vulnerability and trust - can
feel insurmountable, exhausting, and even dangerous.
¶Clark just didn’t want to go there. So instead he goes to many other places but never stays for too long. And
when I asked Clark’s permission to
tell this story, he happily gave it. And
then he added, “I look back at people I arbitrarily stopped dating in the past, and think, What the fuck, Clark?”
¶Sometimes rejection has nothing to
do with the person being rejected and
everything to do with the person doing the rejecting.
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GREEN THUMB, BLACK TONGUE: WAITING FOR LIFE TO BLOOM The art of holding one’s tongue is not an easy one. Especially when it’s such a fun muscle to flex...kiss, kiss.
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T
hey say we teach what we need
call this impatient, but the truth is that
of friendship. Somehow what I was
need to learn something.
about it provides some sense of relief. I
measure of how I felt about the person
to learn. And right now, I really
¶ I’m not a private person by nature
– never have been. I write about sex,
relationships and the heart, the space of infinite mystery and intrigue.
My heartbreak is on the Internet for all to see.
¶ When it comes to the written word, my policy is this: I’ll share anything
about myself if it changes one person’s consciousness. If it helps someone
communicate more effectively with his or her beloved then I can’t imagine a greater cause to be in service to.
¶ I grew up in a house where we talked
about everything. We shared and that’s how we demonstrated that we cared.
But lately, I feel like my mouth is killing my vibe. Writing is one thing, it’s my
creative outlet, but running my mouth for the sake of conversation is entirely another. From articles that might
be published to men that might be
waiting can be unbearable and talking
get so excited about what’s growing in
my garden that I feel deeply compelled to tell my friends and neighbors about it. I want them to peek over the fence and marvel at my buds with me. But
sometimes when it’s time for the garden party, the flowerbeds are flooded.
¶A couple of weeks ago, I decided
to explore the world of restraint. I
made a conscious effort to scale back on discussing (not writing) details
about my personal life, particularly
when it comes to men. I’m the single chick with prospects and everyone
wants to know which horse to bet on.
However, the most challenging aspect
of this experiment came as a surprise. I encountered an interpersonal glitch
which was revelatory to say the least:
¶Friend: How was your date? Who is he? Did you hook up?
¶Ellie: It was good. Trying not to talk
boyfriends, I’ve watched my mouth
about it until I figure out what’s going
compromise my pole position. And as
about a dude, it ended up being a
of sacred potential energy.
everyone else.
about things in their nascent stages.
serious? It’s me. C’mon.
make like a leaky gas tank and
on. The last time I ran my mouth
the words fly out of me, so does a bunch
big disappointment for me and
¶ See, I can make the mistake of talking
¶Friend: Not even with me? Are you
I’m the girl that wants to eat the cake
¶And just like that, my desire to keep
before the batter sets. We could lovingly
something private became a betrayal
willing to share or withhold became a
I was sharing with or withholding from. As if I had to pay an information tax to
prove my love or their value as a friend. ¶We all know that communication
is currency in any relationship, but
I’d like to be more mindful about my conversation content. I find myself
tired of telling the same story over and over again to placate curiosity or help
me analyze something that’s not ready to be analyzed. It de-magnetizes and
disperses the romance. And, I’d really like my tribe of loved ones to support
me in this endeavor. As much as I would like to say, “It’s not personal,” it is, because it’s personal to me.
¶Discovering my filter has been an
interesting experiment. It sounds silly, but it doesn’t come naturally. I’m a
highly articulate lady and sharing is
my default mode. Words really turn me on and I like to use them all the time. Maybe I can blame it on the stars
because I’m a Gemini, but there’s something to be said for silence.
¶The art of holding one’s tongue is not an easy one. Especially when it’s such
a fun muscle to flex. And, I just looked in my garden and it made me smile.
Something is growing, but I can’t tell you what it is.
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THE RISK FACTOR: VULNERABILITY, FEAR + FIRST DATES Can you avoid risk in relationships? Risk mitigation shouldn’t be the only factor in your decision-making when it comes to matters of the heart...
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R
isk mitigation. It makes me
operates research and development
financial institutions and
government. Scrolling through the site,
think of business formal,
PowerPoint presentations. However, I am beginning to think it is more
prevalent in the dating world than in the finance sector. Lately among my single friends, it’s an epidemic.
centers sponsored by the federal
¶Below are their proposed options for
devastated. Every relationship, as a
handling potential risks:
Assume/Accept Avoid
Control Transfer Watch/Monitor
in his early forties. Despite their age
¶Mitre may be all business, but when
things in common and from what I
of interpersonal relationships, it was
difference, they have some interesting gathered from her story, it sounded
like they enjoyed each others company. Then the strangest thing happened.
¶When she finished dishing the details,
she said, “Whatever. I don’t care. I’m not taking it seriously.”
¶I laughed and said, “Bullshit. Can I nail you right now?”
¶Her cheeks flushed. “What?”
¶“You just lied right through your teeth. You like this guy and you totally care.” ¶Her eyes got really big. “You’re right
Elle. I don’t even know why I just said that.”
¶“Want to try telling the truth?” ¶“Okay. I like him and I care.”
¶When I got home I Googled “risk
mitigation” and happened upon Mitre. org, a non-profit organization that
very thing it longs for.”
This is because at some point
Mitigation Strategies. Perfect.
friend who was fresh off two dates
a handsome and successful bachelor
“The mind protects the heart from the
I came across a section called Risk
¶Last week, I went to lunch with a
with a pretty sexy guy in the form of
Evans and Lisa Lim, like to say:
I considered this list in the context eerily relevant.
¶My friend was definitely in the “control” zone. She was totally
“implementing actions to minimize the
impact or likelihood of the risk.” As long as she could tell herself that she didn’t care, the impact of potential rejection would be less severe.
¶It’s totally a bummer when things
don’t work out the way we want them to. I know unequivocally that at some
point I have exercised every single one of those risk mitigation strategies out of fear of heartbreak. I’m exhausted
just thinking about all the effort that went into mitigating, managing and preventing the inevitable: I’m alive and so my heart is bound to break.
¶Two of my favorite teachers, Peter
we know our heart is going to be
physical manifestation of love, must end, whether we kill it off after the
first date or a spouse dies after sixty
years. Knowing this, our mind is our
greatest risk mitigator and self-safety mechanism. It is great for checks and balances, but it loses its value when it messes with the heart facts and
tampers with the evidence. The more
love you allow yourself to feel, the more predisposed you are to disappointment and devastation. Sure it’s scary, but
the only thing scarier than that is not feeling the love at all.
¶In the case of my friend, her mind took hold of her fear in an attempt to mitigate the risk of rejection or
disappointment and tried to shut her heart up. This is particularly funny
considering two weeks after our lunch she traveled to another state to go on
additional dates with him. (We all know that the hassle of airline travel is not something one chooses unless they care.)
¶There is no doubt that when it comes to health and the NFL, the best offense is a good defense. But I absolutely
loathe that approach when it comes to
interpersonal relationships, especially when dishonesty with oneself is the
primary form of defense. If that’s your strategy in matters of the heart then
the outcome is sure to be a loss. If we
can’t be honest with ourselves nor give the heart a voice because we’re too
busy protecting it, then we’re not even
in the game. We’re on the sidelines. We don’t score points and win when we’re sitting on the bench.
¶When it comes to my heart, I want to
listen to its whisper amidst all my fear
chatter. Sometimes I need to throw out the risk mitigation strategies in order
to hear it clearly, and it is in that space of clarity where I can really feel love.
Rather than my mind killing the love,
I’d rather the love kill me. I guess that falls under assume/accept. ¶Wait, did I just mitigate?
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OMG, LOL: FINDING AUTHENTIC FRIENDSHIP IN A MANIC WORLD Our girl Ellie hits it on the head when it comes to finding our true voice and recovering from over-reactionitis...
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W
hen a situation occurs
to support any form of stereotyping,
“friendzy.”
am not really yay-ing with a thousand
parallels can’t be
women, it is still an important
word: a state that occurs when friends
¶Maybe my friend who was really
more than once and
ignored, I pay attention. It usually
means it’s time to learn something.
¶A month or two ago, I told a couple of different friends about a new relationship.
¶Separately, they had this reaction.
¶They were really excited. Like, really really really really let’s-multiply-ourvowels excited. One friend was so
elated that I could barely understand
the words that were coming out of her mouth. It sounded something like:
“I’m soooooooo happy for youuuuuu-ah. That’s amaaaaaaaaaazing-ah. I just. Awwwwwwwww. Oooooooh-ah.” ¶That reaction wasn’t to scale; it
was a disproportionate response to
the information that was presented.
Typically, I would amp up my response to match their levels. I might have
yelled something back at them about the incredible time I was having and the way he said this or that. Instead,
I found myself hurriedly pressing the
bottom half of the button on my Apple headphones to turn down the volume. ¶I wanted to ask all the wrong
questions: How was it possible that
my friends were happier for me than I was for me? Could they really be that excited about something that was
happening in my life? But I knew better. It was totally not about that.
¶It’s not the first time I have seen my
friends react in this way. I imagine that everyone has probably experienced similar outbursts when it comes to various milestones or professional
achievements. That Sprint commercial exists for a reason and while I hate
especially when it comes to hysterical commentary on the way human beings of all genders communicate.
¶See, I can also come down with a case
of exclamationitis. I am definitely guilty of the inflated response. I think it was
only last month that one of my friends
bought a house and I think I texted her something like “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Congratsssssss! Yayyyyyyyyyyy!” I
was emphasizing the consonants and my other friends were heavy on the
vowels, but my reaction was the same as those that had triggered me weeks before.
¶So on to the right questions: What was different about me this time
around? What about my friends’ overly enthusiastic responses made me so
uncomfortable? How had I not been
previously triggered by this behavior in others or myself?
¶The satisfaction I’m feeling is new.
When the heart is full like that, it’s hard for words to find a space. It is neither a peak among several peaks and valleys, nor a high among several highs and lows. It is neither over the top, nor
calls for an “!” nor an “O.M.G.” It is a
happiness born from fulfillment and nourishment. Those two sensations have a weight to them, the kind that
grounds. And the ground is where we
find our balance. And a happiness that is well balanced is one without mania. ¶Mania. The first line of its Wikipedia page says it all: Mania is the mood of
an abnormally elevated arousal energy
level. The word is derived from a Greek word meaning “frenzy.” In my case,
I think that word should be spelled
¶I offer this definition for my new
are incredibly aroused by one another’s lives whereby their interactions
become inauthentic and they ignore their true feelings.
¶I’m neither a psychotherapist nor a
psychoanalyst but conceptually I know that happiness and mania are different things. I have a healthy, normal brain
but I’m susceptible to bouts of mania. I would wager that most humans are
equally as susceptible because neither
Beyoncé nor the Superbowl could exist without it.
¶But mania has very little to do with exploring one’s inner process. It’s
rather like a flood of ecstatic feelings that feels as high as the sky. When I
think about shouting about how happy I am in a relationship it feels like I’m
undermining or depreciating it. All that height feels far off from my happiness’ natural pitch. And I am going to call
myself out because there’s something inherently disconnected and unreal about mania.
¶In the case of my friend who bought the house, I am truly happy for her. I
can feel that in my chest. It is her dream house and a big time transition for
her. But, I’m also feeling sad that she
is moving to the suburbs and we’re at
that moment in our lives where we’re
going our separate ways, focusing our
energies on our partners, and building our lives alongside them. I’m happy
for her but I’m also kind of bummed
that she has to sit on a train for an hour and half to get home and I won’t be
able to drop her off on the way to my
apartment anymore. The truth is that I
y’s about it.
excited about my relationship is also
truly happy for me. But I also know she wants to fall in love and share her life
with someone. She is probably happy
for me but she’s likely feeling all sorts
of other things around it too. And that is totally ok.
¶As I was writing this article, I
brought this issue up with someone in conversation and she had this to say,
“Sometimes I can drop into mania from fear. I don’t trust that my friend will
believe that I’m truly happy for them
unless I’m shouting from the rooftops.
I have had to learn how to check myself and stay grounded when friends are
communicating something about their lives. It’s work to stay present so I can authentically listen and respond.”
¶Last week, I had the opportunity to practice what I am preaching.
Another friend from college left New York City to move to her hometown of San Francisco. She’s thrilled. I
unapologetically told her that I am
happy for her but I am not actually happy about it. Not happy about it
at all. In fact, I am actually really sad about it.
¶We calmly and openly discussed it several times before she left. There
was no room for mania in any of the
conversations because we were busy being completely honest with one another. During our last goodbye
there were hugs and tears. And the
most fascinating part about that final
exchange was that there was scarcely a word exchanged. The whole thing was quiet. Really quiet.
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THE SLOW BURN: HOW TO STAY PRESENT IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP Ellie Burrows digs deeper into “the thrill of the chase” – and why what you really want might be right in front of you.
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J
ane is an amalgamation of
¶We all know that when novelty
more logs to it, waiting, watching,
another article entirely.
¶Jane is killing it at her job.
roaring fire, made of flames so hot they
that it continues to burn as long as
the challenge you are facing – that
many people I know.
Jane likes to date. Jane meets a guy. Jane starts dating the guy. Jane is into it. The
guy is smart. They guy is hot. The guy is consistent. He keeps showing up. The
sex is good, real good. She likes all the weekend trips and witty texts.
¶It’s been three-ish months and these
two see each other three times a week.
She meets his friends, maybe even finds herself in a chance encounter with a sibling or two.
¶Jane actually likes him. Jane likes the relationship. Jane would like to see it progress. This is what she has been looking for.
¶Jane is also bored…and she can’t
figure out why. She’s still checking
Tinder on the sly. See, Jane also likes excitement. She likes possibility,
choices and chases. Jane has always said that she “likes a challenge.”
¶Keep the spark alive. We all know this idiom very well. Rightfully so,
most of the information on how to
do it is directed at couples that have been together for quite some time – years, maybe decades. It targets
couples who share children, finances and bathrooms. Pairs of committed individuals who know variety and privacy are distant memories.
collides with love it can feel like a
can burn. Newness usually calls for
cold showers, not more kerosene. But
my friends and clients – the Janes – are having a hard time keeping newly-lit
fires ablaze. And I’m talking about the fire in them. Doesn’t matter if it was lit yesterday, the Millennial climate
isn’t particularly expert at maintaining
heat. In order to survive (and to ensure consistent warmth), we feel compelled to light multiple fires at once.
¶Right now, spark plugs can’t help us.
observing and carefully stoking it so necessary?
¶FYI, I’ve been attempting the latter and it’s been highly rewarding.
¶“Jane,” if you’re reading this and open to it, I’d like you to consider reframing your idea of a challenge. It isn’t only
about the highs and lows of wrangling
another human being – after all, human beings can’t be wrangled. Perhaps the
ultimate challenge is staring you in the face.
Boredom has become a real threat to
Perhaps it’s confronting a
a big upfront adversary and we’re not
around the fact that there are
hopping on our smart phones to scroll,
with an infinite parade of
not just old but new relationships. It’s entirely sure how to manage it. And
swipe and like might technically but not actually manage it.
¶So what to do when it looks like one
fire could warm the space? Should we
boredom born of anxiety supposedly so many corners potentially better things around them.
build other back-up fires just in case
¶There’s nothing like the stress
work for ourselves and gather kindling
something else, whatever “else” is, just
it goes out? Should we create extra
like an insurance policy? Should we
stoke several flames because the heat feels super good even though we may accidentally overheat the room and
burn ourselves while we’re at it? Or,
should we take all of our supplies and
sit in front of a single fire, gently adding
and pressure of always looking for
because. Gratuitous ”else” searching
can be the most epic exercise in futility, particularly when you believe that
what you need and want is right in front of you.
¶Unless, of course, it’s not what you
need and want and then, well, that’s
¶Perhaps it’s worth considering that lack of excitement – is actually quite
exciting in and of itself. If I understand you correctly, it sounds like you might be where you have wanted to be for quite some time: at the beginning
of a committed, grounded, healthy
relationship with what sounds like someone who is present. Honestly, that sounds pretty exciting to me –
particularly the part about it being healthy.
¶Staying present requires patience. When the highs aren’t high enough and the lows aren’t low enough or
something isn’t progressing the way you want it to, I challenge you not
to expend your anxiety around the
unknown by mindlessly looking for something else to fill the space.
¶Sit with yourself in boredom. Stoke
the flames of your own fire by getting to know who you are in the absence
of space fillers and backup plans. The
more you can see yourself, the brighter your flame will burn. And the brighter it burns, the more likely its twin will ultimately find it.
024
TURNED ON:
SCENT AND SENSUALITY Our sense of smell is a basic bitch. This month, resident sex and spirituality columnist Ellie Burrows investigates a case of scent and sensuality,
FUN FACTS: *Some truffles contain a steroid, androstenol,
which gives them the musky nutty taste. That same steroid is also synthesized by human males in the testes and secreted by
their sweat glands. I love truffles. I love men. Makes so much sense!
025
I
am a human animal. I know this
in the world. But the smell I smelled,
San Francisco.
but extremely hard on the nose.
relatively upright asking important
chakra low. I would literally get on all
doesn’t get a lot of attention unless we
on you provided you enjoy someone’s
because I spend most of my time
existential questions like ‘why am I
here?’ or ‘what is the meaning of life?’ ¶But lately, I feel like a complete and
total beast. I’m talking about the kind
that walks on four legs, doesn’t speak,
and just sniffs its way around its habitat. Like those kind of animals, I’ve been at the mercy of my nose.
¶Recently, I smelled the best-smelling human I have ever smelled in my life.
It came from the neck, right behind the
ear. No, it wasn’t cologne. Yes, it was just skin. The smell was so compelling, so
intoxicating, so layered in deliciousness
that I was completely and totally hooked
from the first whiff. It was a case of scent and sensuality.
¶Even for a writer, describing the
mute sense is challenging, but I think it smelled something like clean laundry, drenched in fresh water, wrapped in
sandalwood, sprinkled with bergamot, dipped in Yerba Mate, and peppered
with masculine musk. I realize these could be the notes in a ubiquitous
fragrance called “Eau de New York City
Man,” but this scent was specific. It was his scent.
¶Smell. It’s like the basic bitch of the
senses. It’s the sense associated with
Muladhara chakra: the first and lowest, the base chakra. This energetic center
has to do with basic needs and survival. No one wants to have first chakra
problems: trouble making money, and feeding oneself. If we can’t work these things out, it’s pretty hard to function
I would happily get low for, like first fours for it.
¶Sadly, many people are grossly
misinformed and rank smell as the sense they would be most likely to
forfeit. But smell is associated with
the first chakra because it is the origin
sense, both in science (did you know our entire brain grew from what was once
a primitive olfactory cortex?) and other schools of thought, too.
¶I’m not a particularly avid bible
reader as that’s not necessarily how
I contextualize my spirituality, but so
many of the spiritual parameters of the western world, are rooted in The Book. So it’s worth noting that according to
the Judeo-Christian piece of the spiritual pie, our nose is how we got our souls: “And the Lord God formed man of the
dust of the ground, and breathed into
his nostrils the breath of life; and man
became a living soul.” (Genesis 2:7). And
so it goes; no nose, no breath, no soul, no life. The inability to smell is considered
a spiritual impairment, as then the body would not be connected to the soul. ¶Beyond the bible, in all sorts of spiritual circles, smell is wildly
important when it comes to creating
scared space. Walk through any house of the divine and you might smell
Frankincense or Himalayan herbs.
When it comes to my own sacred space,
I would never sit down to write without burning something like Spider Woman, a handmade incense to enhance
creativity from The Sword and Rose in
¶But sadly in urban society, smell
are avoiding bad aromas, or being lured
into a restaurant by the part of our sense of smell that’s connected to our taste
buds. And FYI The estimated size of the global antiperspirant and deodorant
market in 2015 is $18 billion. That’s a lot of hush money when it comes to B.O. ¶If our sense of smell is the basic
bitch, then in modern society sight is
like top dog. Although perhaps touch
should be alpha when it comes to love, just consider the fundamental M.O. of
generation Tinder: we decide whether or not we’re willing to even meet someone via Google image.
¶Now more than ever the Internet has forced us to determine attraction in
the context of sight, and this is highly problematic. Your eyes can’t tell you
important things like if he smells like truffles* – or if he will like the taste between your legs.
¶I remember a period of time when
looks mattered most to me, but that
theory went out the window when I
met a bald, portly guy who excelled in touch. And in college there was this
guys who was totally HST (Hot, Smart
& Talented), but something about him smelled like that acronym too – if you
add an “I” and rearrange the letters. He
smelled of mothballs, stale laundry, last night’s beer, and whatever is growing
underneath your nails. You could argue
that most college guys smelled like that,
but there was something in his skin that was repulsive to me. Easy on the eyes,
¶For all the sight hype, looks can grow personality or feel they love you in the
way you need to be loved. But I would be willing to bet big money that the same
doesn’t go for smell. It’s too polarizing.
It’s too ancient and primitive, too deeply tied to good and bad and fight or flight. I couldn’t hang around a person who
smelled vile no matter how many boxes he or she ticked.
¶I knew I couldn’t write this piece
without reading Rachel Herz’s The
Scent of Desire and in it she writes this:
“body chemistry plays a startlingly large role in who we are attracted to, and our nose speaks loudly to our souls even if it seems like only a barely audible whisper.”
¶The smell I smelled on him, spoke
unequivocally to my soul – but rather than a whisper, it was an ecstatic
scream. It turns out it was actually
the mating call of an immune system complimentary to mine, a seed’s
serenade to its ideal fertile soil. This
scent, which scientifically can belong
to one person and one person only, was designed for me. And so, my humanity must surrender and be humbled.
¶I’m an animal. I know this because lately I feel comfortable on all fours
and my nose knows the answers to the questions like ‘who should I have sex
with’ and ‘how can I ensure my children will survive.’
¶Where was the quality? Where were the guys that I would actually want to meet and touch in person? The
026
discerning, thoughtful men weren’t
TURNED ON: THE TANTRA OF ONLINE DATING In the second installment of her brilliant column on sex and spirituality, Ellie Burrows takes a Tantric approach to online dating...
sending messages to every chick on
the site. Then I remembered three very important things.
1. I’m a class act. And if I’m online, then my equal is probably online, too.
2. Insecurity is not gender specific, and rejection is scary.
3. We all have egos that need to be stroked once in a while.
¶As I browsed through the online
shopping mall of men, I realized my
approach needed to evolve. Big time.
What if the right men weren’t reaching out to me because they thought they
might get rejected? What if they needed me to reach out to them? After all, my
profile status was set to “Replies Very
Selectively”. This was going to require
a serious shift in consciousness. So like everywhere else in my life, I decided to
approach it from a spiritual perspective. ¶When it comes to love and sex, Tantra is my subtext. And Tantra embraces opposites, playing with concepts of
light and dark, attraction and repulsion, hot and cold, and obviously, male and female.
I
’m pretty sure I discovered the secret
uttered that word that we weren’t a
attractive: “Multiple photos of you in
¶I’m not talking about super-
¶The part of me that was also a mare
3. Were so totally wrong for me (and
to online dating. And it’s Tantra.
connected, total body orgasm, tantric sex. I’m talking about the energetic
concept that makes that kind of sex
possible: balance of the masculine and feminine energies. Let me explain.
¶After getting out of a very intense fiveyear relationship, I actually took a year
off from dating altogether. At the end of
the year, I met a lovely lawyer in LA who subsequently flew to New York City to
woo me. The weekend was wonderful. He really had his shit together, but one night lying naked in bed he called me
a “stallion” – and I knew as soon as he
match.
shuddered. But to his credit, the dating experience was so positive it got me
back in the saddle and over my fear of opening up my sacred sexual energy
to a new partner. I wanted to repeat it
many times over with all different kinds of men. And that the fastest way for me
to accomplish this was to bite the bullet and get online.
¶Almost immediately my inbox was flooded with hundreds of messages from dudes who:
1. Hadn’t actually read my profile: “hey sexy ;-)” 2. Were clever but weren’t particularly
leggings before 11am. Thank you.”
also crazy, with really poor grammar):
“So I was reading your profile and then I was like goddammit…this always
happens every time, I’m reading some
nice girl like yourself’s profile and then I remember I didn’t check your diet… Bam! I know I’m fucked before I even look, she’s going to be a god damned vegan, CRAP! Then by some magical
stroke of luck or maybe the stars have
aligned in my favor I see, I see: “Strictly Anything”…fucking finally a girl who
isn’t a new age picky bitch, thank god! Hi I’m Johnny, its nice to meet you.”
¶As Osho writes in The Book of Secrets;
“Tantra says that when the ultimate bliss and ecstasy comes inside you, it means your own positive and negative pole
have come to a meeting – because every man is both man and woman, and every woman is both is both man and woman. You are born not only from woman or
from man, you are born out of a meeting of the opposites.”
¶Now do me a favor and look between your legs. Seriously, look. Imagine what’s underneath those jeans…
Now, completely forget what you just
imagined. We’re all over the spectrum, people. There are masculine and
feminine energies in all of us despite
what our genitals tell us. Male energy is
about focus, purpose, and drive. Female
027
energy is about creativity, nurture, and
message him.”
the same answer to the question “The
and hope one hit a bull’s eye. I shot six
EVERYONE. However, sometimes we
but I knew it was all in the name of
admit?” which was that we both loved
the highest quality and I had played my
radiance. ALL of those qualities are in
get our energetic wires crossed when it comes to the dating dance and we can short circuit.
¶In 1995 the authors of The Rules,
claimed that the male must be the sole initiator when it comes to dating. Yet
according to ancient tantric rituals, the
female is deeply revered and considered an initiator of sorts. She’s the creator. So you see, either the male or female energy can initiate. The feminine is always on the receiving side of the
masculine penetration, but in Tantra
“penetration” and “initiation” are two
different things, and that’s where we get confused.
¶Having wrapped my head around
this, I was now ready to send out some serious digital fuck me eyes.
My first online date was EPIC. A dreamy Vintner from Northern California
(match 97%) was visiting the city and geo-locating attractive ladies using a
feature called Quickmatch. Basically, the
equivalent of telling me I was hot but not being bold enough to send a message. ¶I showed his photo to my friend
Sarah who was staying with me for the week. Call it kismet, fate, even divine
intervention, she responded; “Oh my
God, I know him. That dude is amazing. I did some day-drinking with him a
couple months ago in L.A. You need to
¶I dreaded sending my first message, Tantra: “Small world moment of my day. Sarah was overlooking my shoulder when your face popped up on my
quickmatch. She says you’re good stock.” ¶I gave no name. No mention of his
most private thing you’re willing to
reading Missed Connections. I sent him the following:
“High percentages. Tinder Match.
Missed Connections. Nice Abs.
profile. Didn’t ask him out. I wanted to
rouse him out of his man cave, give him a
Your move.”
little confidence, and let him know I was
¶Again, no name. No overly thorough
show me his peacock feathers.
¶Well, Corporate Lawyer asked me out
willing to play. Now it was up to him to
¶And boy, did he show me. He was only in town for two more days so he asked
me out immediately. I was supposed to
leave town but it was a blizzard outside and when I got snowed in, I agreed to
meet him that night – which turned into a 36-hour first date. It included closing down two bars (Smith and Mills and a deserted Greenwich Hotel), dim sum
(with his friend), sushi (just the two of us), two sleepovers (one at his, one at mine), and one flight change (his).
¶I can’t believe a computer told me I
would like this person so much. So okay, online dating is kind of awesome.
¶Next, I tried my newfound strategy
on a very handsome Corporate Lawyer with perfect abs and a brilliant mind whose profile I had been circling for
a couple weeks (match 89%). We had also matched on Tinder, very equal
opportunity in the cave-door knocking department. On OkCupid, we both had
message. Just a little Tantric taunt.
immediately and told me that was the
most effective message he had received to date. We went on a date and shared some steamy make outs and engaged in a pretty intense cerebral texting
relationship. He also serenaded me
with The Magnetic Fields’ “Come Back From San Francisco” begging me to
return from visiting the aforementioned vintner. Timing wasn’t on our side; he
got a new job, moved to Colorado, and
although my body was back in New York the truth was that I had left my heart in San Francisco.
¶A key part of online dating is
discernment. Over the course of four months I went on six dates, with five truly viable options. Only one was
terrible. It was my first Tinder date
and I didn’t vet him enough over text. Amateur hour.
¶But my point is, I didn’t go on hundreds of dates. I didn’t shoot twenty arrows
and missed once. The men I met were of part in the courtship. It’s too bad I can’t have five boyfriends at once.
¶I’m sure it’s no surprise that in
preparation for the this article I picked
up The New Rules: The Dating Dos and Don’t for the Digital Generation to see how the game had changed with the
advent of social media. Inside, I came
across lines like “Don’t talk too much in
the first weeks” and “Don’t write to guys first,” and “ignore winks.”
¶Yikes. I had to throw it across the room. It was entirely missing the opportunity for an open dialogue about the nature of our hearts and gave total disregard to spontaneity, two pretty important tenants of love. More importantly, it
diminished the equal power of the male and the female to ignite something.
¶At its core Tantra is about expressing everything that “comes up,” including all that you feel. It’s about allowing
ourselves to feel and express everything between two polarities. It would never have you suppress anything for the
sake of strategy or gain. It wants you
to dance openly with everything and
everyone you encounter. It’s all checks
and balances, and I am glad I went with the ancient wisdom on this one.
¶Which makes me a rule-breaker I
guess. But I expressed myself fully and created something magical.
028
TURNED ON: SHAPESHIFTING TO MEET MY MANIMAL In this month’s column, Ellie Burrows investigates how the ancient Shamanic art of shapeshifting has infiltrated her relationships – and what she’s learned about herself in the process.
029
A
sk any of my friends – when
the king and queen of a concrete jungle.
¶As of late, my ability to shapeshift is
¶What ultimately serves me in my
known to be a shapeshifter.
what killed us.
being anything but myself. Venturing
form, my authentic self, and see how
it comes to my lovers, I’m
As in, I change form depending on my bedfellow. I admit it.
¶In 1998 I met my high school
sweetheart. We wore Air Max 96’s,
Jordans, Nike snap pants, and listened rap music in his black two-door Ford Explorer Sport. I had cornrows and
rhinestone sunglasses. He was captain
of the basketball team and regularly had one pant leg scrunched up to the knee.
Young love at its finest, we were a match made in 1990s high school heaven. We were each other’s dawgs.
¶In the summer of 2006, I met an Israeli businessman twenty years my senior.
It was always DJ Tiesto and the mispar echat (number one) everything: the
number one restaurant, the number
one hotel, the number one vodka, the number one yacht. Lots of excess,
free love and bacchanalian behavior.
Everything was a teachable moment and I learned all sorts of sexual lessons. He
was a bird of prey and I was his helpless kill.
¶In my twenties, it was my seriously
cool East Village architect. All raw denim all the time. No shampoo. He taught me how to dial down the fancy, wear my
curly hair like a mane and eat meat off a
bone. I was a lioness and he was my lion,
We had a lot of pride. And frankly, that’s ¶Shapeshifting litters the landscape of
divine folklore and shamanic traditions. Magically speaking, it’s all about
changing form in order to take on and assume the nature and qualities of a
specific creature. A shapeshifter morphs in order to alter or enhance particular thoughts and perceptions or acquire
new abilities. One changes shape to see and access the world from a different perspective.
¶As the dawg, the kill and the lion, I fully embraced and emulated the quality of each manimal I was with. I immersed myself in our love and thoroughly explored their natural habitats. I
invoked their energy within myself,
adopted their characteristics and saw the world from their vantage points. ¶This was a practice of sorts, the
method by which I connected to the
symbol of my desire. And it was most
definitely a symptom of my immaturity. When I loved what they loved, enjoyed what they enjoyed and preferred
what they preferred, I felt a deeper
sense of closeness and communion. I
think it goes, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, not love. And in fact I
royally fucked up because I lost myself completely in each beast.
non-existent. Turns out, I prefer not
into someone else’s habitat and taking on their views, behaviors and tastes
to enhance our connection no longer
serves me – especially when that person drinks like a fish, doesn’t work out,
lacks a connection to the divine or fucks without reverence for the act of fucking itself. I tried to get down with that species and it just didn’t work.
¶Changing form to align myself with my partner stifles my own needs in
relationship. I became unrecognizable in the mirror and then there was no
perspective at all. And if I can’t see my self in the mirror, then it defeats the
whole point of partnership in the first place.
¶The mirror is one of my favorite metaphors for a lover, spouse,
significant other, partner, friend or soul mate. It can feel vulnerable to
step in front of a mirror and take a
good look. You will see all your beauty,
your ugly, your gains, your losses, your shortcomings and strengths. It can be exhilarating, humbling, ecstatic
and painful. The human mirror is an
extraordinary thing because we have the capacity to really understand
our very existence in the presence of another being.
relationships now is to be in my true I occur in the context of another
human being. I’ve learned that it’s my
responsibility to grow as a result of that reflection. And if I’m really honoring
myself, then I can honor the other too, and hopefully be the ultimate mirror for them.
030
TURNED ON:
SEXTING ACROSS THE MADONNA WHORE DIVIDE Is sexting the same as cheating? It all depends if you’re playing in the shadow or the light, says Ellie Burrows.
031
S
igh, the Madonna and the
this column launched in April, it brought
Erotic Intelligence. Immediately.
really is some holy shit.
banal then reducing a woman
proverbial woodwork.
¶Then the following came out of my
and shared my revelation. He loved his
Whore. Is there anything more
to one of those two archetypes?
¶Madonna: Non-sexual woman. Keeper of morality. She offers her breasts to
her children. She tempts you into eating your peas. She tempts you for your own good.
¶Whore: Sexual woman. Debaser of morality. She offers her breasts to
everyone. She tempts your husband. She tempts you for her own good.
¶For thousands of years women have been cast in one of these two forms.
There is no shortage of literature or
decorated scholars who have devoted
their lives to studying them. And, there are many feminists who have fought
fiercely to destroy such narrow-minded classifications.
¶But I have a confession. I totally
recognize this duality in myself and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
¶Enter: Sexting – digital fingering at its finest, and the space where I recently encountered my inner Madonna
and Whore pushing their respective
pleasure agendas. As it turns out, I was able to marry them when I understood how to align their supposedly
conflicting interests. They were willing
to sign a sacred contract, but they had to look each other in the face to do it.
¶A few months ago, I found myself in
a budding Millennial relationship: we
were really into each other but having a
tough time sorting out the commitment piece. It forced me to evaluate my own feelings about monogamy. And when
some men from my past out of the
¶I hadn’t talked to Eric in years (name
obviously changed). We grew up in the same place and had always had that
energetic-sexy-vibe thing happening but we never actually acted on it, mostly due to timing with a dash of trepidation. He
reached out to tell me that he was proud
of me and confess that he had fantasized about me since his preteens. Before
I knew it, we were sexting and it was
tons of fun, like major smile-ear-to-ear fun. And if I’m being totally truthful, it
happened two more times. Over Gchat. Off the record. That was the problem. ¶Hello Whore Ellie. Eric has a very serious girlfriend.
¶The next weekend I was with my
boyfriend-who-wasn’t-my-boyfriend.
He put up an Instagram that also drew
out a woman from his past. When I saw his facial expression when he peeped at his screen, I was intrigued. He told me that she was someone he had a
one-night-stand with and since then had occasionally sexted with. He assured me that I had nothing to worry about.
¶But, I wasn’t concerned at all. Like, at all. See, I knew that I had just engaged
in a sexting conversation with someone I was attracted to and it had absolutely nothing to do with him. It wasn’t going anywhere: I’m monogamous and I like to flirt. Of course, someone could say
that if I really loved him I wouldn’t have sexted with someone else. If you’re
that someone, please go buy Esther
Perel’s Mating in Captivity: Unlocking
#requiredreading mouth:
¶“It’s okay if you sext with her.” ¶“What?”
¶“Well, I’m not sure sexting with her is
a direct reflection of how you feel about
me. It has nothing to do with me. It’s just an aggressive form of flirting. I would be fine with it as long as she knows that I
know that it’s happening and it doesn’t actually become physical.” ¶“Explain.”
¶“If you both know that I’m aware that
it’s going on and are still willing to sext,
then you’re playing in the light. Then we are all engaging in conscious behavior and all of us get to enjoy the fantasy.
However, if you can’t share it with me
and you don’t think I can be part of the
fun then that’s playing in the dark. That would be messy.”
¶Then I dropped the bomb. “In fact, I sexted with someone last week.” ¶“Really? Look at you.” He had a
mischievous smile on his face that mirrored mine.
¶“Yes, and that exchange had absolutely nothing to do with my love for
you. Totally mutually exclusive. It’s sophisticated flirtation. Except his
girlfriend doesn’t know about it which is a problem.”
¶It was like we were sitting in an
energetic room and the ceiling was lined with fluorescents. I could see
everything. Deception is the fertile soil where the Madonna and the Whore’s
separateness is able to survive. And that
¶The next day, I reached out to Eric
girlfriend very much but was doing
this behind her back, casting her as the
Madonna and me as the Whore. I didn’t like engaging in this kind of shadow
behavior because it didn’t allow us to play together. It kept us separate.
¶Maybe Eric believed that his girlfriend
couldn’t see the duality and understand the nature of our flirting and so he felt
the need to hide it from her. That, or he
actually felt like it could go somewhere with me. But by going along with the
deception, I wasn’t holding a space; I
was trampling straight through one. And if we couldn’t play in the light, then it
needed to end. So I ended it. I told him
we could speak as long as we could keep it PG. Sadly, Eric and I haven’t spoken in months.
¶Hello Madonna Ellie. I support
monogamy so I wanted to support Eric’s relationship. I also wanted to honor his girlfriend and only play with Eric if we could all play together.
¶The Madonna and Whore archetypes are in all of us. Both are remarkable
extremes in their own right. I intimately know my Madonna and my Whore, and
my life is an exercise in integrating them. It’s way beyond just being “a lady in the
streets but a freak between the sheets.” I love both of them and so they love each other. I offer each a seat at my well-lit
table and that is where they are able to break bread.
032
TURNED ON:
FALLING FOR A DIFFERENT KIND OF DESIRE Ellie Burrows has a confession. The mood of the Autumnal Equinox has got her turned on to the idea of... commitment?
033
I
’m hanging in the balance.
this article, I wanted to explore the
of balance, I can see exactly what’s
¶This year, I’m not sad to see the
we’re halfway between rosé in the
Fall of Love. The original pitch was
¶I never really dated with the purpose
playground in search of something
¶It’s the Autumnal Equinox and
sand with a tan and cashmere socks and Schnapps.
¶For the Earth, the Equinox represents a point of balance. This year, for my heart, it’s the tipping point.
¶June, July and August are releasing
their hypnotic hold on me. My rear view mirror is filled with the boys of summer and their hard bodies at pool parties. No more fist pumps to summer jams
or kisses that taste like Pina Coladas. Goodbye to short shorts and tiny
dresses. Gone are the days of sweaty
hands up my skirt and sticky rolls in the sheets while blasting AC to bring down all the heat.
¶Fall means I’m 90 miles from mistletoe with just one stop for turkey. It’s about
back to school, back to work, a return to obligations. It’s time for knitwear and leggings and with them along comes all sorts of longings. We’re plunging
into colder climates, descending into darkness, and harvesting in order to
hibernate. And all that impending cold just makes me want to snuggle up and pair down. Fall always sings songs of
commitment and for the first time in a
long time, I want to sing along and settle in with a romantic partner.
¶When I initially sat down to write
transition from a Summer Fling to a something about “turning your Montauk share into a home ownership.” In New
York City, the hot months have an echo
and it sounds like “dating in the summer is hard.” Trying to get a relationship off the ground in high season is like
trying to swim against an undertow.
Everything is in motion and everyone is gone on the weekends. But when
autumn arrives and beach rentals end, the restaurants in the city are filled
with hopeful singles once again trying to figure out how to keep their beds perpetually warm for winter.
¶Telling my readers how to turn a
steamy summer hookup into something more substantial felt like teaching
them how to take a cold shower. When you let the hot air out of the balloon, it floats to Earth. It felt strange to try to decode the alchemy of love, because
it’s a magical process of transformation and the infinite combinations make it impossible to boil it down to a
single formula. The heart is just not a transactional place.
¶But something is shifting in me and
it’s right on schedule with the Earth’s
rhythms. In my own personal Equinox
it feels like I’m on a seesaw suspended in air at zero degrees. From this place
changing in me.
of finding a boyfriend, a husband, or “the one”. Like masturbation, I date
because it feels really good. I learn by experience and it’s always been up to the experience to determine its own purpose, a purpose that only comes
into focus in hindsight. I always felt that
being attached to outcome when it came to dating was a hindrance, a one-way
ticket on the disappointment express.
However if I’m being really honest with
myself, my lack of vision was buying that same ticket at a cheaper price.
¶It seems rather silly to think about
it now, but the idea of what I actually wanted out of dating never factored
in. I think I may have flat out ignored it. I always thought I would figure it
out along the way and that my wants, whatever they were, would reveal
themselves to me in the process. Yet
the only things that were continuously revealed were my “don’t wants.”
¶I want a man that’s mine. I want to
wake up in the morning next to someone and I want that person to bring me black tea. I want to have a raging argument, walk out of the house and know that
he will be there when I return. I want it all. I want to be alone and I want to be together. I want to be alone together.
dog days go. I’m leaving my summer more. I’m going to harvest my
experiences and move into the winter of my being where it’s the quietest.
Deep inside of me there is a burning
desire to be in a devotional partnership.
Somehow admitting that on the Internet is scarier than talking about my aroused vagina. It feels outrageously vulnerable,
like standing on the street, in the middle
of an epic blizzard, totally naked waiting for him to bring me a jacket. But, saying it out loud feels a million times hotter than playing it cool.
034
TURNED ON: LIFE AS A CONSTANT STATE OF AROUSAL In the first of a regular column on sex and spirituality, Ellie Burrows explains how getting really turned on is about allowing your body to open up to the world around you.
035
I
’m always turned on. I walk the earth
believe that’s totally limiting. We should
warming the cold parts of ourselves,
through my being. I can’t help but smile
The. Best.
“arouse”: to awaken, excite, evoke. The
creating an opening in
feel a deep connection to the other
in a constant state of arousal. It’s.
¶Everything turns me on: my morning ritual of almond butter and raw honey toast accompanied by black tea with
a dash of milk; an episode of Scandal; a conversation about the Universe; a
pair of Alaia boots; meditation dance at 5Rhythms; riding the subway listening to Beyoncé; having my
hair pulled; cleaning my bedroom;
practicing mindfulness; fancy lingerie; a cute puppy on the street and its hot
owner holding the leash. Basically, I’m experiencing one big Lifegasm.
¶Last weekend, I was strolling through
Manhattan with the current object of my affection.
We stopped at a corner and waited for
the crosswalk to change. He let his hand brush up against my ass and I felt an
energetic burst in my second chakra. A simple gesture with a massive impact, my vagina actually pulsed, warmed,
relaxed, and opened for him. My body sent out a physical invitation hoping
for an RSVP marked “Will Attend”. An
example of arousal in its most pure form (and for the record, he attended, to it, later).
¶If we’re most familiar with arousal in
a sexual context, most of us associate it
with being DTF. And frankly, I’ve come to
really consider all the definitions of
highest level of arousal happens when
we’re alert and open to all that’s around
us. It’s about the expansion of our sexual energy well beyond the confines of sex. ¶In ancient Taoist traditions, life force
energy is called chi and supposedly we can feel this energy moving through us. The subset of this energy that’s
specifically sexual or creative is called
ching, which is believed to be essential to our health and wellbeing. Well, I
can definitely feel my ching moving
through me and it’s absolutely vital to
my existence. But somewhere along the way, through various forms of cultural conditioning, we were taught that this energy should be strictly reserved for
the bedroom. I think the Taoists, Justin
Timberlake and I are all agreed that it’s WAY better when we bring sexy back into everything.
¶So how do we do this? How do we
carry that powerful energy beyond the bedroom? How do we decorate every moment with this sexual electricity?
Well, firstly we need to allow it to spread beyond our penises and pussies. It
needs to evolve and literally “grow up” into our hearts and minds. We need to make like an aroused vagina and feel it pulsing through our entire bodies,
thereby relaxing our insides and our beings.
¶So let’s try a simple visualization.
Imagine you’re staring at a chocolate
chip cookie from Levain Bakery on 74th
and Amsterdam (if you don’t know what this is I feel mildly sorry for you, and
instead invite you to just envision the
moistest, most chocolate chocolate chip cookie in the world). How do you feel
about this cookie? What does it look like to you? To me it’s a big, dense, delicious,
warm pile of goo and I can’t wait to have it in my mouth.
¶I’m breathing in the intoxicating
smell of fresh baked goodness. I can
feel the desire for this cookie all over my
body. I can feel my deep appreciation for
the cookie in my heart. My mind is doing summersaults just thinking about those chocolate chips dancing on my tongue. Holy shit, this cookie is turning me on.
I can’t stop smiling at it. But see, I don’t want to actually fuck the cookie. The experience of eating it, appreciating
and enjoying just became heightened, elevated and way more awesome.
¶Sometimes arousal happens to me
on a subway when I see someone give
up a seat to a pregnant lady or a senior citizen. I feel a pulsating sensation in
my chest, a sense of warmth spreading
at this display of human kindness and beings on the train. For a moment, I
am in love and energized by the small
simple gesture of one human towards another.
¶The vagina is the mother of all gates and most people think it’s the only
doorway to arousal. And yes it’s an arousal superhighway, but for me,
arousal is really about accessing the
heart and I use my whole being and all my senses to do that. If my heart isn’t
activated and engaged, then I can’t be turned on.
¶Real arousal creates openings in our
being. It’s a state of connectedness with the world around us, in which we let it
awaken and excite us. It’s the sensation of being genuinely excited about life.
This column will touch upon arousal
in many different ways. Often sex will be the entry point, but ultimately it’s about elevating our consciousness
around our sexual energy to enhance
all our experiences. Most sex columns
are about getting off. This is an arousal column and it’s going to be all about turning on.
038
STOP THE #HATEFOLLOW
039
T
he hate follow is kind of like the cousin twice-removed of the pity fuck.
¶How many times have you thought
something mean, rolled your eyes or
shook your head at a photo posted on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter?
¶If you are a social media user, then it’s highly likely that you have ugh-ed or
ew-ed at something in someone’s feed before. Duh, you’re human.
¶But how often is this sentiment
directed at the same person over and over again? What is really going on
when one person’s particular posts
repeatedly elicit such visceral reaction
from you yet you continue to follow them? ¶This is what I mean by the hate follow. You follow someone yet you resent him
or her with each post. You’re repeatedly triggered by the content in his or her
feed. You continue to follow, yet you find yourself regularly directing negativity toward this person or thing. Basically,
it’s like the least fun drinking game ever: when you see a photo, you take a sip of haterade.
¶Maybe you can’t tear your eyes away
because it’s so bad, that it’s so good; sort of like rubbernecking an accident on a
highway (see: @slutwhisperer). Or, due
to some societal norm, you feel pressure to follow people who are a part of your
own personal Kevin Baconverse. Maybe
you think it’s better to follow your best
¶If we have virtual beef with someone,
risk hurting her feelings.
opinions and values than it does
friend’s brother’s girlfriend’s sister than ¶But what you might not have
considered is how that girl would feel if she knew what you did when you
saw an image in her feed. And if you’re
worried about what she would think if you unfollowed her, just consider how
terrible she would feel if she knew what you were really thinking and feeling
every time you saw her posts. With that
much yucking of her yums, she probably would prefer you didn’t follow her at all. ¶See, every time we spew negativity at someone’s photo, we are taking a
minimum of a second out of our day
to be highly judgmental, maybe even
it probably says more about our own about theirs. If we are turned off by
humblebrags or gratuitous babygrams, then it’s probably worth considering
what about these posts irk us. If we can’t stand how someone shares his or her love, joy, habits, accomplishments, or
travels, then we need to stop looking at
their feeds and start looking at ourselves.
¶You know that thing your grandmother used to say “If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all?”
Well, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t follow at all.
¶See, when it comes to following
another human on social media, we can
mean. That single second you’re wasting
control how susceptible we are to our
of a second that could have been used
be fixed with the push of a button, but
to scoff at someone’s post is a waste for something more technologically
positive like shooting a text to some you love to express your gratitude for their existence or becoming a much needed upstander.
¶Following is like endorsing. And we
all know endorsement means a show of
public support and/or official approval. So what’s the point in following
someone that you’re unofficially disapproving of? ¶Exactly.
¶There’s no point.
own negativity. So few things in life can this is certainly one of them.
¶So, I’m going to propose a challenge
and I hope you will accept. Every time we have an overly negative response
to more than one of someone’s photos, we are going to unfollow that person, regardless of social pressures and
expectations. We are going to clean up our actions by cleaning up our virtual “friend” list.
¶Because after all, we follow to like. ¶I don’t know why we would ever follow to hate.
040
A MASTER CLASS IN REJECTION
041
F
or the first time, I knew it had nothing to do with me.
¶I was sitting on the couch,
I haven’t felt this feeling in my chest in a long time. ᴥ
looking into his eyes and could see how
(Insert watery eyes)
airplane and his anxiety had been seat-
I don’t want to say goodbye.
tortured he was. He was fresh off an
belted for six hours. I didn’t envy him. Not for a second.
¶He knew he wasn’t ready but he
didn’t want to let go. He was swimming through the swamp of his heart trying hard not to dirty his hands. But that’s
the thing about mud. It’s fucking messy. ¶The song he was singing sounded like “blah blah blah, fear fear fear, blah blah blah” and the chorus went something like this:
I need to focus on my work. ᴥ I’m going to be a terrible boyfriend. ᴥ
I can’t give you what you need. ᴥ You deserve better. ᴥ I know I might regret this. ᴥ This has nothing to do with anyone else. ᴥ
ᴥ
¶I had been here before, toolbox open with my hammers and nails strewn
about the floor: ready to fix. This time, I left my toolbox locked in the closet,
permanently stowed away. I couldn’t fix this and I didn’t want to.
¶He followed, silently lingering in the
doorway, waiting for a hug. He wanted
me to tell him it was ok and that he was still a good guy. But my soul couldn’t
give him that because it was busy doing something else. It was hugging me instead.
¶I asked him to leave. That was the hardest part of all.
¶And as I feel asleep, I sang myself the sweetest lullaby I have ever heard:
Come total. ᴥ
¶I was really listening now. The more
Come whole.
stronger I became. A man was sitting
Or don’t come at all.
he sang of his self-limiting beliefs the across from me, choosing something else, and I refused to respond with a swan song of my own inadequacies. ¶Instead, I breathed in the
disappointment and welcomed grief with open arms. I let the potential
energy reduce to a simmer. I watched him morph from my beloved into an unworthy.
¶I felt deep compassion for him. It must have been hard to let go. Like an owner selling a champion racehorse because he couldn’t afford its care.
¶I went into the bedroom and
ritualistically removed my beautiful lingerie and swathed myself in sweatpants.
ᴥ
¶It’s the only song worth singing and it’s on repeat — indefinitely.
042
LOVE AT FIRST LIKE
043
I was in the park that day with Darby.
world and for a moment you believed in
was a halo around my body.
without even meeting me.
You saw me in total clarity as if there
magic. You were deeply connected to me
You liked what you saw and knew you
First, you heard of me. Then you went
part of me: how I spend my days, places
2D me. You just couldn’t leave anything
needed more. You wanted to know every I had been, the things I had eaten. You thought my abs looked great in that
dress and you couldn’t wait to see the rest of me.
You started following me. You became acquainted with my family, my two
sisters. You thought my younger one
was an identical twin and that she was
and fell in love with the idea of me, the up to chance.
You formed opinions, made
you. You knew me through filters and hashtags.
thought they had good vibes.
don’t know my touch, the feeling of
about my relationship to the three,
equally tall and handsome men in my
life. You didn’t believe that we were just friends. It made you wonder about all the others that came before you.
You joined me on family vacations and 30th birthdays. We went to Mexico,
Lake Placid, the North Fork and Canada. You felt inspired by my trip around the
experience the actual you, the 3D you. I only knew the facts: your name, age,
profession, education, and city of origin.
That was appropriate. That was enough.
and decided there was no relationship
See, you don’t know the sound of my
featured one day. You were curious
effort not to Google you. I wanted to
got ahead of themselves, ahead of
between square images. Your thumbs
to my friends, all married, all brunettes.
You read my column and hoped to be
me for weeks. I had made a conscious
On that first date, I listened to
I hope you know that means nothing.
You got to know the two Sarah’s and
you had been in a relationship with
assumptions, filled in the blanks
me on that lounge chair. You played with my goddaughter and were introduced
When we actually went on our first date,
voice, its whispers and screams. You
these beautiful hand-painted nails on your skin. You don’t know the way I
taste. You don’t know the nature of my heart and how it opens and contracts. You don’t know my elaborate defense
mechanisms and the simple trick that
disables them. You don’t know my brain map and its need for speed. You don’t
know that I believe you can look into my
eyes and see the infinite landscape of my soul. You don’t know that I am capable
of total surrender when it comes to the one I love.
everything that came out of your mouth to be had. And when I didn’t invite you into my real world, what did you do?
You hit unfollow and broke up with me.
046
5 WAYS: TO NOT TOTALLY WASTE YOUR TIME ON A 1st DATE
047
I
love first dates because they are
someone authentically takes time, and
of you. After all, you’re trying to evaluate
search for a partner, mate, lover,
oneself.
your significant other or bedfellow.
bridges into to the unknown. In our
spouse, and/or teammate, the first date is like the great unknown — so much possibility and potential energy, so
many things to discover and uncover. The unknown is where anxiety and
excitement intersect, and often we can
there’s no sense in getting ahead of
❷
Don’t forget what you’ve learned in your past relationships.
get caught up in one or the other. ¶Here are five things to help you
¶Past relationships almost always
possible.
relationships. Whether you’ve had
❶ Don’t over-Google.
¶Nothing can kill first date mojo like a
thorough background check or a police
dossier on your date. Sure, the unknown can be scary, and of course you want to
make sure they’re really 32 and not 52, but a CIA-level investigation can really
kill the romance and spontaneity. Also, you can’t Google the things that will
ultimately matter most, like your date’s
ability to communicate, or the presence
inform our present and future
your heart broken or you’ve broken hearts, you’ve hopefully learned
of lying or cheating, you can’t really
Google those either. To truly get to know
having an open dialogue is fundamental in any dating practice. And by the way, if
it’s just about sex, then asking questions is equally important. Don’t expect them
to tell you everything, though. Savor that years into a relationship.
❹
Don’t ignore red flags. (Or body language!)
something when it comes to romantic entanglements. Apply your learning.
Your past mistakes are your greatest
¶There are three things you should
of who you are and what you’re looking
date says, everything they don’t say, and
assets. Hopefully you have a better sense for. (To be clear, I don’t mean talk about your exes and exchange war stories.)
Just trust that you know how to enjoy someone else’s company!
❸
Be playful — but don’t be afraid to ask pointed questions.
of sexual chemistry.
¶If you’re curious about their history
Besides making for good conversation,
mystery — you may miss it when you’re
manage that delicate balance and make sure your first date is as meaningful as
whether or not this person could be
¶You should be curious about and
interested in the person sitting in front
listen to on a first date: everything your their body language. Communication
happens in surround sound. Really pay attention, and don’t just focus on the
things you like and ignore the things you don’t. Also don’t assume you can fix and change the latter down the line.
❺ Be honest with yourself about how this person makes you feel.
¶We can over-analyze a first date and
intellectualize it. Sometimes our brains override our hearts. It’s important to
check in with your heart and really see
how this person made you feel, not just what you “thought” about him or her.
They might be great on paper, but you
felt they were arrogant or withdrawn. Maybe they don’t check your boxes, but you were fully turned on by the
conversation. Having an open heart and access to our emotions is necessary
when it comes to dating. Sometimes the brain has no jurisdiction when it comes to matters of the heart.
051
ELLIE
meet many masters, healers, body
York City and The Universe at large.
doctors to medical doctors, she
BURROWS is a storyteller,
seeker, mystic and guide living in New After graduating magna cum laude
from Northwestern University, Ellie
began her career in the independent
film business. As an executive at Cinetic Media, she discovered her knack not
only for creating content, but also for helping others reach their creative potential. Her bosses and mentors
strongly encouraged her to pursue
writing and storytelling, but she chose to focus on the business side of film: producing, selling, and finding new talent. Her specialty was working directly on their professional and personal development, inspiring filmmakers to hone their craft.
When business meetings began
to evolve into coaching sessions
around effective communication and
interpersonal relationships, she knew she had to shift gears.
While pursuing her career, Ellie
began her own spiritual journey,
wholeheartedly dedicating herself to spiritual evolution. In 2013 she recognized that she needed more
content and experience so she chose to travel the world as a spiritual tourist to get a Masters in the Self. A natural intuitive, she made it her mission to
workers, and doctors on her journey. From shamans to rabbis, from witch sought to absorb as much firsthand
transformative knowledge as possible.
Ellie’s life purpose centers on marrying her gift with her passion to help others evolve. She received her Certificate in Coaching from New York University, and has a growing client base that
she coaches around offline and online dating, effective communication, and unconditional love. As an intuitive
dating coach, she guides her clients to reconnect with their hearts, fall in
love with themselves, and shift their mindsets.
She is a writer for The Numinous,
penning a monthly column on arousal and spirituality entitled “Turned On,”
which boasts the highest engagement rates on the site. She recently became
The Chalkboard’s newest contributor on sex, relationships, and the inexplicable
spiritual connection we feel with others and within ourselves. Her writing has
also appeared on The Huffington Post,
MindBodyGreen, and Medium. She uses ancient teachings in a contemporary context to inspire compassion,
confidence, and consciousness in a highly-digitized world.
I’M SO GLAD THE UNIVERSE BROUGHT US TOGETHER