everybody knows that nobody really knows

So lately I've been giving quite a bit of thought to intimacy.
Be it romantic, friendly, familial...
Be it physical, emotional, intellectual...
the pure and honest divulging of one's self to another, the sharing of profound moments, holding hands, making love, two sipping from one straw let alone giving up the first sip...

I've been giving quite a bit of thought to this idea, or act, of intimacy and find myself meeting up at two specific points.
The first being vulnerability.
Then second, fear.
And I'm wondering if the three so always co-exist... or must? What is intimacy without vulnerability? And why am I overwrought with fear and anxiety in the face and midst of both?

Well let's start here: I believe that intimacy is not intimacy unless we are completely vulnerable. There is that moment of recognition in which one must let themselves give in... to the moment, to passion, to another human being, and simply allow. Free from judgment, free from sadness, free from a past or a memory or a floor strewn with baggage. And so I suppose fear is then a natural companion when allowing one's self to be vulnerable in attempts of opening up to intimate experience. And yet, it's almost as if we've forgotten how to operate as human beings in the presence of another.

And I can't help but feel like we're losing something. Like we've been conditioned. We're living in this ultra, hyper technological, media driven culture where connecting equates to efficiency of communication via e-mail, facebook, text message... even blog to blog. We're living in an age that values the immediacy of a hi-tech correspondence requiring no actual one on one or physical contact. It's as if these methods of keeping in touch have not only allowed us easy access into virtual dialogue but have made us experts at keeping one another at a distance. And as we continue perpetuating the cycle, losing clear views of one another, so erupts the fear. More and more we're forgetting how to interact intimately with one another...

What does that even mean?

Suffice it to say, I come from a very particular view of intimacy in which I see such acts as truly beautiful, special, of value... In a world that's teaching us how to keep one another at bay, I cling that much tighter to the sense that acts of human intimacy are truly sacred. This uncensored, vulnerable, and honest depiction of love, affection, admiration... whatever it be, is the most authentically beautiful relation one can have with another. I just feel like it's losing its value... its place in the realm of relationships over accented by digital mail.

Maybe it's all tied in to a longing for chivalrous behavior, a surge of snail mail,or surprising gestures of affection... What is this whole intimacy thing? What is it to simply hold someones hand? Or to lie next to someone listening to their heart beat, watching them sleep? Sharing stories of physical scars and first kisses, regrets, and secrets... sipping beers at 4 in the morning, laughing at bad 80s films, creating memorable moments... What is it to let someone in?

Maybe I'm naive to believe that intimacy is the closest we can get to another... nestling into that open, vulnerable place with someone else... in whatever capacity, be it the physical, emotional, spiritual... the honest divulging of self... But if we're really all we've got, then to share all that we are with another person has to be one of the most incredible acts. So why should I feel so foolish or prudent or childish to think that it's all just kind of a really really huge deal?

In a world of people trying so hard to keep one another at a distance, perhaps it's no wonder that we're all just fumbling around at trying to make this whole intimacy thing work. And in that vain, it's no wonder we're all so terrified. Whether we'd like to admit it or not.