Mary Oliver on How Differences Bring Couples Closer Together | Brain Pickings

“All of it, the differences and the maverick uprisings, are part of the richness of life. If you are too much like myself, what shall I learn of you, or you of me?”

Source: Mary Oliver on How Differences Bring Couples Closer Together | Brain Pickings

Brain pickings is one of my favourite sites. Maybe I will not always agree with everything being sad but I appreciate the amount of reading, organising and work being done. I also now like that the site has seemingly gotten a redesign. Looks great 😉

In this topic I both agree and disagree. Yet, my position is not aggressive rather it is something I can say that you need both similarities and differences, a sort of equanimity, a equity, a balance that work for you guys. Too much similarity becomes coercive and codependent or insecure at times. Too much difference becomes othering and all the consequences related to that but this line that is capitalised in the beginning:

“All of it, the differences and the maverick uprisings, are part of the richness of life. If you are too much like myself, what shall I learn of you, or you of me?”

I totally agree with that. It is great to know that you are being challenged and learning from the other person and synchronizing your own talents too and they too benefit from doing that.

Celibacy

Standing adamantly by a decision is not really always callous. He turns. I rotate. He returns. I learn a revolution.  I don’t have much to expect yet I think he prefers me to expect things and that somewhat sags. After a dispute we make love. Just a crooked bandaid. I had vowed chastity. Even after the first couple of times I had stayed celibate for many years. However, this love brings out these in me. I do not like breaking my vows. Chastity or etcetera.  I don’t see him so sad. Whatever decisions he takes he seems pretty unrepentent or even non-confused about them. I almost feel a tip on my tongue. Is it Eurocentric? A White man’s non-burden.

Our mouths kiss. Our hearts do not. They run on parallel mathematics.

I am not coded like him. Nowadays, the gypsies are the rich, unconcerned. You cannot leave behind boredom if it is in a classroom. I cannot talk to him much. After he caressed my breast and my slightly toned thighs and I scartched slightly his skinny, rigid ones.

“Meghna, let’s elope.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I want to finish my studies; have a career.”

“It’s so cliche.”

“It helps with the food department.”

“And I thought you liked marriage.”

I looked upset, all of a sudden, “What made you think that?”

“I just felt…it.”

We are quiet. It’s more quiet than mortal death.

“I know, Meghna, we come from different cultures.”

“I am not a different culture. I am a different person. Than you.” I stressed it heavily. I stress it as if it was now and never.

“Meghna, is it because I am White?”

I thought about it. Yes. It was. But it wasn’t so because it wasn’t. It was a Yes and it was a No. His Whiteness was not what mattered. It only mattered here. Because he could get away with running away. I am not White. I am of the migrant body. If I run away. I will always be a runaway. Unable to perform and unable to settle and unable to — Ooff! I was not so confident that me running away would be so fruitful to me.  Things are already here for him. For me it was starting. I don’t want to ruin it.

“Not really.” I carefully addressed, “It’s because you are rich and White and male. And I am just another so-called Brown immigrant. I have already been dispossessed and you are already possessed. Do you understand?”

Then he grunted, “You are talking fucking crap.” Then he got up, “You are muddling too much in those weak sciences.”

‘I am being honest Calvin.”

“Yeah right.”

I rose a bit too.

But then he got out of bed. I saw an ultimatum.

“I am leaving; probably tonight.”

“I understand.”

“You coming?”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

“…”

“You are just some lay anyway.”

“I know we wouldnt end up together. You don’t understand and you are stuck in your own way of thinking.”

“I am leaving. Not Listening to this crappy shit.”

Don’t trust —

 

— who act as they know everything; but when the delivery arrives
never arrives for you, muddled bones and sausage tongued
barely defensive but defensive on the prowl — telling you they are better
in so many ways and telling you that they deserve better
but would not wish the same for you; patterning an apology
yet hierarchical on the sorries as if you pushed them for this

don’t be quiet on this sodomy of your soul
front or back the choots did this because they think they are
yes, better at being non-human. _▬

sometimes, these days —

 

— can feel my heart beating really slowly;
following the thump, thumpity thump
of a casual heartbreak — yes, the fairystory could not be there.
The so called friends don’t always be there within the afforded sets
made imaginary enemies of my soul and declared war

where hast thou gone?
are you lost?
in some impious grave woodland
tethered to the moss — to the rocks —
do you hear me bellow and moan ~
a ravaged body by the elements
wood and artificial metal; plastic poisoning :://\//
how can someone tell you leave?
when your heart’s been staying  ????++??
if some malignant cell had burst
could I not cry,  ?
while you vigorously fuck me with a virus
and stay fucked by a disease
am I too low to be here
too high to be angry at
there was no violence
but the decay was unnatural
but it was not preternatural in the traditional sense
yet preternature tended to it with a caustic blow
and I have been hit so soon; breaking apart
but I don’t always cure my fate
somethings’ learning here

maybe, this is a viral shot to incubate an antibody
from people who think sorrows are only their own
and pushing aside others as doors
only lead to “happiness” to them
to say I am not withered would be lie blatant
to say I am not strong to endure and empath enough to care
would be truth simplified. _▬