It had been a solid hour of searching the streets of San Francisco and I was getting a bit queasy by now. I wished I had just gone to that Greek place next to my hotel. But at that time I was confident that my intuition would guide me through the city of queers and quakes and ultimately serve me with the best Italian pizza I had ever tasted. For some reason, my mind was dead set on pizza but so far all I could find were Burgers joints, American Diners and Chinese fast food restaurants. I was really getting hungry, though, so I was about to give up on my search and go with the golden arches. As I thought of quitting, however, I noticed something in the corner of my eye. A sign on the window that read “Little Joe’s”. Sounded like another hamburger to me, but beneath it said those magical words: “Italian restaurant”. Woohoo! Pizza! Finally! Unfortunately, they didn’t have that wonderful flattened bread baked in a stone oven and filled with mozzarella cheese, fresh vegetables and lovely tuna fish. Sometimes we are looking to find something and we get something else. We get the unexpected, the wonderful serendipities of life. In this instance, I was fortunate to be treated to something far more fulfilling than any pizza could ever offer: the generosity and gallantry of a couple of rednecks.

That’s what they called themselves as they introduced themselves to me: Rednecks from Reno. A term, I later found out, used to describe the stereotype of a backwoods: dim witted and bigoted, whose idea of a gourmet meal is six-pack of beer, a bag of pork rinds and a can of Copenhagen. These four guys sat at the table next to mine and when they found out I was having dinner all by myself, they invited me to join them. They were anything but the tobacco chewing and spitting descendants from Neanderthals. Admittedly, there was some chewing and spitting of tobacco involved…but they didn’t have bad manners or showed any signs of closed mindedness. Instead, they were gallant, charming, fully authentic, and they treated me like a lady.

Where I’m from, we can pride ourselves on the equality of men and women in the work force, but you’re lucky if a guy holds the door for you. Equal rights at work have meant equal everything. You might think I’m generalizing here, but the truth is: To the Dutch, chivalry is as extinct as the Bengal Tiger!

And I can’t help but wonder: are we really emancipated? If emancipation is the process of setting oneself free, are we really? Could it be that in working towards equality of men and women, we fought for a certain freedom and lost something else in the meantime? Or rather, just created an entirely different doctrine?

Women of the 1980s fought for their rights to be equal, to break away from the traditional view that women belonged at home chained to the kitchen cabinets and taking care of the kids. Fighting against a male dominated culture, struggling their way up to the top positions in organizations, demanding equal payment and career opportunities.

These passionate, fearless and empowered women have paved the way for a younger generation of successful women, like myself. They have definitely earned our respect and we owe them a lot. Breaking through the glass ceilings hasn’t been an easy task. However, I do wonder whether we might have lost something valuable on the way. Could it be that in breaking free the “female” in us got rejected as much as the doctrine that focused on the superiority of the male? Confusing the (especially in the workforce) negatively ascribed meanings of what is “typical female” with the actual behavior. And by extension, might we have gotten a bit paranoid that being treated like a lady became synonym for being patronized and devalued by the “male chauvinist pig”?

In fighting the phallocentric nature of society back in those days, I think we can all agree that we did move away from something that wasn’t honoring women as individuals with their own dreams to fulfill. It was necessary to stick up for ourselves. Inequality was a fact of life and had to be confronted. But in turning away from such oppression through anger and rebellion, what were we moving towards? Did it lead us women to our Selves and our heart’s desires? I don’t think it fully did. In my opinion, the way this oppression has been confronted, left those who wanted to be on top to shy away from emotions and softness. Thinking perhaps that was the only way. That we had to be strong no matter what and turn away from “weakness”. Fighting fire with fire. Rather than showing the world that our qualities are our strengths, they became something else. Acting more “masculine”, the only way to be seen equal to a man. In that way, I am inclined to say it’s a lot more like masculinism. Why call it anything but that, because for some of the natural (and perhaps more female) tendencies of what culture has dubbed “feminine”, became taboo as a result of this movement. Killing the romanticism in both men and women.

Personally I love my qualities as a woman. I also love chivalry in a man, even though I can take care of myself. I consider myself lucky rather than a feminist, for not having to wear a bra. I love being financially independent, which doesn’t mean that I won’t fully indulge in the pleasure of having the guy pick up the dinner bill. I’ll graciously accept. And even though I consider myself a born leader in self actualizing the world, I love it when a man takes charge and sweeps me of my feet. When I celebrate my right to pursue my career goals and ambitions that stem from my heart’s desire, I fully embrace the fact that I was born a woman and all the qualities that naturally come with it. There’s both masculine and feminine in me. One does not negate the other. They’re not mutually exclusive. And one certainly isn’t stronger or weaker than the other.

Rather, they are behaviors that were labeled in such a way that it has created polarity and invited either-or thinking instead of both-and-and thinking. Whether you’re a man or a woman, when looking at it as just actions, they just become more or less appropriate given a certain context. Just like a doctor in the ER has to stay cool and distanced, this doctor would have a problem connecting if acted the same way in a love relationship. There’s a time and a place for everything.

Some of the feminists who cracked through the glass ceilings are now realizing they have boxed themselves in. They realize something is missing. Wondering whether there’s more to life, they’re looking for ways to synergize their femininity and masculinity. Transcending gender as it were, and becoming a human being regardless of gender. One of those feminists is Naomi Wolf. In 1991 she published a book called “The Beauty Myth”, in which she attacked the fashion and beauty industries for exploiting women. It was this book that helped launch a new wave of feminism in the early 1990s. A little over a decade later she wrote another book: “The Treehouse: Eccentric Wisdom From My Father on How to Live, Love and See”. In it she describes her midlife crisis and how she found her way back to the wisdom and poetry of her father. Something she had rejected for a long time, because she thought it was the opposite of what she stood for. There was no room for poetry in her life.

Her father, who she describes as a wild old visionary poet, believes that the heart’s creative wisdom has a more important message than anything else, and that our task in life is to realize that message. He rejects “-isms”, as he is convinced they create boxes in which we become confined. They’re like personal enclosures of an individual soul, or an entire nation or era. And he speaks of breaking out of the box, so as to unleash our inner creative wisdom, our soul, to the world. We are more than our labels, our identities or our gender. We’re not our indignities, our successes, our failures. Nor are we our bodies, our obsessions, our futures, and our culture. We’re more than that!

Naomi Wolf shares with us that all her adult life she had tried to use words to make change in the real world; She had believed in “us” and “them”: “the patriarchy”, “corporate collusion”, “the right”. Fighting for outcomes and getting caught up in the fire and flames of it. And then she asks the following question: “Was fighting my only reason for being? Was there a way to integrate politics and poetry, mind and soul – feminism and humanism – to make something larger than the sum of each principle?”

Moving beyond feminism and humanism, and into…transcending yet including gender? Being a woman, and at the same time more than that. Being a man, and at the same time more than that. What if we focused on the process of becoming aware of our Self, and the way to discover our own innate creative wisdom – regardless of gender? What if we were to unleash the process of self realization during which we integrate all (masculine and feminine) in search for totality of our Self? Now that’s something to think about…

 

It was once thought that a vein or nerve ran directly from the left ring finger to the heart. A ring worn around that finger symbolises a union that is to last forever, the roundness of the ring representing eternity. Ah, the beauty of Love. It starts with a meeting of the minds and a beating of the hearts. Its taste as sweet as a nectarine that has had the opportunity to ripen in the warm Californian sun. Its melody enchanting and inviting us to dance. An intimate dance that turns into a proposal. And in that state of mind we say: "I do".  We promise to love, honour and respect each other from now until the end of time. Or until death do us part, whichever comes first.

Unfortunately, as time goes by, minds can travel in different directions. And what started as a synchronised beating, hearts can slowly begin to follow a separate rhythm. We stop looking in the depths of each other's eyes. The passion that once was, gets replaced with the frustration of unmet expectations and a feeling of not being understood. Which in turn leads to resentment, giving up, and even indifference. Sometimes that just happens for one of the two, and the other is left with a yearning. Fierce and raw at first, but later on textured with sad surrender. And rather than holding one another in the hollow of our hands, we hide out in the far corners of the bed. A dream once shared is forgotten. Swallowed by the waves of everyday life, it has made its way down to the bottom of the ocean.

Instead of staying connected and maintaining a sense of curiosity, we'll play the blame game or the game of silent suffering. Acting contemptuous and handing out one-way guilt trips, or closing up like an oyster and treating someone to loud and angry silence. Or with vacant and hollow eyes we might just go through the motions, and as a result we flat line the heartbeat of the days of our life. Amazingly, this can go on for years on end and nothing significant really changes. Rather, we maintain a certain status quo that is held in place by the myths we are taught by society or family and we adopted as our own. Secretly hoping for the end of time or for things to magically change. We think the other person is responsible for the fulfilment of our dreams, or for the fact that we have lost touch with them. The voice-over of a Desperate Housewives episode called "My Husband, The Pig" beautifully illustrates this interesting phenomenon. 

At the Beginning

Take a drive down any street in Suburbia. Know what you're gonna see? Desperate women. That's right...one unhappy housewife after another, each completely miserable...in her own unique way. But I don't want to talk about them. No, I want to talk about their men and what happens to a guy when that special lady in his life starts to lose it.

At the End

Take a drive down any street in Suburbia. Know what you're gonna see? A bunch of guys wearing the same expression. It's a look that says: "Oh, crap. My dreams are never gonna come true. I'll never have a life free from scandal. I'll never have a son of my own. I'll never hold her in my arms again. I'll never get to tell her how I feel." Yeah, the suburbs are filled with a lot of men who have given up hope. Of course, every once in a while you do come across some lucky SOB whose dreams have all come true. You know how you spot them? They're the ones who can't stop smiling. Don't you just hate those guys?

How come we end up doing this to each other? And to ourselves for that matter? Is that honour? Respect? Love? Why do we settle for these kinds of relationships that we make bearable by focusing our attention on our hobbies, our work or our children, even if that means that with each day that passes we're growing ever further apart? Not only from the other person, but more importantly from our innate self as well. How come we stop listening to the other person and start mind-reading, expecting the worst and complain that the other person will never change? What gets us to lie and convince our self that things are ok? And what will it take for us to stare reality in the face, lay all our cards out on the table and decide where to go from there? Wouldn't we all love the inability to stop smiling?

So what makes this guy different from others, this lucky SOB whose dreams have all come true? Did he miraculously happen to hit the marital jackpot without his own doing? Here's a crazy idea: Perhaps it is something that he is actually creating for himself! Perhaps he has taken ownership over his own life and actively committed to the pursuit of his heart's calling, in life as well as in love. And maybe, just maybe, we could be lucky SOB's too! If so, what would make you start smiling uncontrollably at life? What kind of life is it that you are after? And what kind of relationship will be a reflection of that? After all, we live in an age where we have the freedom to choose our own paths, more so than a few hundred years ago.

You see, in the history of time, the institution of marriage was needed (or so we thought) to create a safe environment in which the perpetuation of the species was ensured and bloodlines were protected. It created a stable system of rules that handled the granting of property rights. An ancient Hebrew law even required a man to become the husband of a deceased brother's widow. Not so much a romantic engagement, but more for the purpose of economical insurance. Back in those days love wasn't a necessary ingredient. In fact, Joseph Campbell in "The Power of Myth" states that it wasn't until the Twelfth century that the notion of "courtly love" was introduced in the institution of marriage. (And thank God for that, right?!)

Nowadays the decision to spend your life with someone isn't so much about protecting bloodlines or the perpetuation of the species. So marriage doesn't have the same function it used to. In fact, these days we don't even need a contract to spend our life with someone. What kind of function does it then have? We live and love in a time where men as well as women can get satisfaction and build financial independence through work. We can engage in meaningful conversations with our friends and family, and feel safe and rely on them. What intention could we have for spending our life with that one special person? Isn't it intimacy, romance and passion that we look to make real in this world with that certain someone? Don't we all want someone to carry us in his/her heart? Isn't that why love songs and romantic comedies sell so well? If so, what would happen if you could have that not only at the start of a relationship, but for the entire duration of it?

"In fact, at this point in history, the most radical, pervasive, and earth-shaking transformation would occur simply if everybody truly evolved to a mature, rational, and responsible ego, capable of freely participating in the open exchange of mutual self-esteem. There is the 'edge of history.' There would be a real New Age." Up from Eden, p. 328, Ken Wilber

Moving way beyond the notion that we are merely here to perpetuate the species or to create economic stability, I also like the idea that we enter into a love relationship so we can help each other grow and self-actualise, because that's what love does. It's supposed to give wings to those who cannot yet fly. And once we learn how to fly the relationship's the wind beneath those wings. I wonder how the union of two people could become an expression of integral living: being an individual with one's own purpose in life to share with the world, and at the same time creating something more because you have decided to enter into an "open exchange of mutual self-esteem". A place where we are able to connect and unite, and create something beyond what we ourselves could have ever imagined. And then sharing that with the world, being part of the collective actualisation of the entire human race.

So what if instead of having to keep up appearances, we could have a brutally honest and ruthlessly compassionate conversation with one another about our heart's desire? What if we focused on helping each other self-actualise, as well as our self? And what if we could stop holding the other hostage in our web of expectations, because they go against reality and their own benefit? Because it goes against our own benefit! Wouldn't it be wonderful if instead of trying to carve out of others the image we long for, we'd encourage them to express their uniqueness? And what if we first and foremost treated and conversed with our self in this way?  Now wouldn't that be amazing?

As you ponder this kind of love, think about this: "You only have a limited number of heartbeats that you get to spend. It's up to you how and where you spend them."* At opposite corners of the bed, or standing side-by-side conquering the world together?

* Quote by Judith Delozier, proudly swiped by Joseph Scott...and now by me :)