Love and Pee-Pee

Dear Sass,

I have a pee-pee pants problem. Little bits of pee seem to find their way, no matter what I do, onto my boxer shorts. And then, when I get into bed that night, my gf doesn't much like the pee-pee scents wafting up from underneath the covers (I don't know HOW she smells it). She encourages me to take off my boxers and sleep sans pants, which in theory sounds fine, and in fact sometimes I choose to do this on my own without suggestion, but the mentioning of the pee-pees always makes me feel...defeated. No matter how many times I try to use a square of tp or jiggle, it's still a curse. How can I come to terms with my pee-pees and not feel so defeated?

Best,
Mr. P

Dear Mr. P,

I want to acknowledge the ways in which you are already addressing the pee issue. It sounds like you're open to finding something that works for your girlfriend while honoring your own feelings, which isn't always easy to do. 

Your story is funny, but it touches on some of the most serious questions of accepting and loving our bodies without shame. One thing that is thrilling about intimate relationships is that we have the potential to relax some of the restrictions we place around our bodies in order to function socially. Over time the smells and sounds and sights that would repel us in strangers become familiar, sometimes even beloved. As we come to accept the shadow side of each other's personalities- the fears and insecurities and irritating idiosyncrasies- there can be a parallel acceptance of the shadow side of each other's bodies- the sicknesses and limitations, the intimate functions that we all share but rarely share. And what is potentially miraculous about this more complicated and unconditioned acceptance of each other is that it can lead us to a deeper acceptance of our own imperfect selves. 

All of this is true. And yet we find ourselves in bed, snuggling in for the night with our gf, and suddenly the accepted, familiar scent of pee comes wafting out from under the covers. Does the fact that this smell is repugnant to our lover undermine the unconditional love we are building? Does it point to some deeper rejection of our body? Does it mean we are unacceptable, unlovable? 

I think it might just mean that pee is still stinky even if it is the pee of our beloved. And if we can really believe this- in the simultaneous truth of unconditional love and the stinkiness of pee- then maybe it won't feel so hard to change into PJ's at night instead of wearing the day's pee-pee undies, or sleep naked, or to simply squeeze your gf tight and ask her if she can stand it for tonight because you're just too tired to do anything about it. 

Your question is important, and I'd love to hear what others think. In the meantime, I wish you all the best of luck.

Yours Truly,

Sass

the wonders of our bodies and breath

dear sass,
sometimes death feels so close! today i cut away the skin of lydia's arm and held between my fingers the nerves of her brachial plexus - the very ones she used to feel everything from her breast to the tip of her pinkie, to move the muscles of her hand. i found an anomaly in her left brachial artery - i was probably the first one ever to know about it. i feel busy, flustered, honored, lonely...when will i sink into the arms of my beloved? when will i feel calm again?

yours,
lg in bloomsburg, PA

Dear Lenya,

What rushed into my head when I first read your words was, "Lenya, I assure you that at this moment you are nestled deeply, perhaps more deeply than you have ever been, in the arms of the beloved." Which maybe isn't exactly what you meant, but it is what I overwhelmingly wanted to say to you.

Then I thought about the time last summer when I renewed my licence and elected to be an organ donor. It was scary to imagine myself dead and dissected, but I wanted to do it (I hope not too much because of all of the organ transplant episodes of Gray's Anatomy I'd been watching.) Reading your email, I realized how rare it is that death feels close, though it is close all the time. My close encounters with death have brought a deep sense of connectedness with something bigger than myself and the habits of daily life. They have filled me with peace, even as they filled me with fear and sadness. It's really a privilege to be aware of the closeness of death.

And then this: Lydia is you, Lenya! a whole perfectly embodied, unique human being! And the profound intimacy you are having with her body at this moment is no more awesome, no more an honor than the profound intimacy you experience each day living within your own body. I read today that no single experience we can have over the course of our lifetime is as miraculous as the simple fact of our breath going in and out at each and every moment. This was very comforting to me. 

As for calm- it seems like it may be a while before your external life can be a source of that. And we're both wise enough to know not to count on our external lives for our inner peace anyway. Besides, rooted in our bellies every time we breathe is an infinite source of deep calm. I've always been impressed at how close yours is to the surface. Even if it's a little harder to access now, I know it's still there.

 

Yours Truly,

Sass

Deciphering the Fall Blues

Dear Sass,
I think you're onto something about this fall feeling. In fall, I notice that I tend to have a lot more insecure feelings, ideas that I HAVE to do something, usually around issues of permission or 'shoulds'. Why do you think, seasonally, this is? What can I do, if anything, to alter these autumn blues?
Sincerely,
TB

Dear TB,

Whether it's the bracing air, the back-to-school rhythm we just can't seem to shake, the shortening days that make our activities feel more urgent or some mystery of nature, fall certainly seems to make us reevaluate what we're doing. Depending on what our habitual thought patterns are and where we are in relationship to our goals, this close look might be inspiring or blues-inducing. Sounds like maybe you're feeling pressured to use the energy of fall to do something other than what you're doing. If what you're doing now isn't serving you or your long term goals, then this could be a gift. I am much more inclined to write resolutions in September than in January, and I'm much more likely to follow through on them too. So it might be worth reflecting on any places in your life that feel stuck and directing some energy toward freeing them. On the other hand, you may be just where you should be. And in that case, rather than feeling pressured to do something different, you could direct the energy and urgency of the season to strenghthen and celebrate your stance.

Thanks so much for writing- it's awfully exciting to get my first question.

Yours Truly,

Sass

Let Your Inner Superhero Soar

Dear Sass,

A few days ago, fall came. I had just managed to put my whole body into the ocean and suddenly summer was gone. So here I am bundled in layers of wool, feeling the unmistakable energy of fall. This is a time when my inner superhero awakens to address every undone thing in my life- and the other parts of me try to keep up. Or, as has been the case lately, the other parts of me try to convince me that I can't do all of the things that the inner superhero says I can. Resistance can be powerful. One of my fall resolutions is to enroll in a yoga teacher-training for which I have to prepare. A lot. I can't believe how angry I feel about this,  how something at the core of my being seems to rage at the commitment I've made to do something that I really want to do. What's up with this?

Sincerely, 

Sass 

Dear Sass,

It's my experience that people function like emotional camels, holding onto everything and building invisible humps to store it in. Unfortunately, the everything we hold onto includes a lot of uncomfortable feelings, like grief and anger and shame. We're good at carrying this extra weight. Most of us balance it so well, we forget it's there and we don't notice the ways in which it hampers our movements. But when we start to change the balance of our lives- by doing new things, thinking new thoughts, using our bodies in new ways- suddenly the weight is all there and feels like it might squash us. I think that is what resistance is- it's all the invisible old shit we've been carrying around made visible. It can be painful to see these unresolved feelings, and it's tempting to restore whatever it was in our lives that allowed us not to see them in the first place. But ultimately, I think our inner superheros are right; we can be yoga teachers and published writers and doctors and parents and wilderness survivalists. I don't know how to get from here to there without simply going, no matter what form our resistance takes. Along the way we have friends and therapists and books and nature and all of the things that sustain us. 

All Best,

Sass