Attempting to possess others will only result in losing them, while freedom can secure a lasting relationship.
Xi Shi, Kingdom of Yue

Life in our mountain paradise had settled into routine and intuitive chores with the sole purpose of continuation. The dogs brought us puppies, the cats, kittens, ducks and chickens hatched ducklings and chicks. Our pond thrived with aquatic life, cattails, and lotus flowers. The sow and boar filled our farmyard with little squealing piglets. The crops grew with surprising speed. Anne and I spent our days cultivating and caring for the abundance of life that sprang out of the jungle floor.
Never satisfied to be done with anything, Anne began shaping the surrounding area with native flower beds, fruit trees, and plants she used for medicine. In the afternoon, we paused due to the heat to rest, eat, and discuss the evening plans. Often, we took naps on split bamboo mats with wet linen draped over our foreheads to cool down.
Anne always bathed in the creek three times a day. In the morning, she would rise quietly and go to the spillway on the downstream side of the pond dam. She could squat down on a large flat rock and use a bamboo dipper to pour water over her body and then scrub her skin with a coarse burlap. The overhanging branches and cattails partially hid her from view. The illusion of privacy mattered, not that I could see her from the porch of the hut.
In the afternoon, we returned from working in the forest or with the crops and animals, and we both went to the spillway, where Anne would pour the water over me while I wiped the dirt and sweat away. Then we switched. Refreshed, we walked up to the hut and put on light clothes. We hung up our work garments to dry in the day’s heat. We would eat lunch, rest for an hour, and then do light chores preparing for the evening.
In the evening, we repeated the bath separately with more attention to hygiene. We never used soap but often used an oil distilled from seeds and aromatic plants. This left us clean and our skin relieved from the many scratches and bruises of hard work. It left our hair shiny and soft. We smelled suitable for dinner and lying down together wasn’t something we needed to avoid. I was surprised by how much attention Anne paid to cleanliness. It is necessary to prevent disease and infection, which is deadly in the jungle. This routine was part of our intimate living and a needed health benefit.
There was a beautiful intimacy in this primarily quiet reverie. We found ways to be close together. We split bamboo, shelled peas or nuts; ground dried herbs for tea. Everything had a valuable purpose to move us more quickly to the evening or to prepare for another trip to the market to sell our products and then use the money for something to improve the farm and feed the animals. We accomplished our work in the synchronicity of cooperation, making the task and the hours of the day float by.
We also had deep conversations. I wanted to know about the aesthetic life she lived, she wanted to know about America and Americans. Her English improved as we spent more time communicating and she taught me as much Vietnamese as I could handle. For a woman that spent all of her life in the service of others never allowed to be expressive beyond her teachings, she was remarkably intuitive and aware of the triumph and tragedy of human endeavor. She understood love at a deep level and I asked a thousand questions. I had never had a woman explain the intricacies of her heart to me and Anne did it without worry of being betrayed.
(I’ll share the outline of what she taught me) In turn, I practiced my new awareness with her to show her I listened and learned. It was a natural progression, and every day offered continuous moments to show and experience intimacy on the broad plain of its existence. All things prosper in intimate ways, she once said. I began to notice how she gave genuine love to her farm and her animals, and they rewarded us with endless entertainment and, in some cases, sacrifice for our well-being.
There were five demigods of intimacy with each having six virgins. If a human accepted the five monks and was attentive to the 30 virgins, their life would gain great fortune and good luck. The five Monks were translated to Emotional, Physical, Experiential, Intellectual, and Spiritual Intimacy.
Emotional Intimacy was served by Empathy, Respect, Validation, Communication, Trust, and Vulnerability.
Physical Intimacy was served by Cuddling, Hand holding, Nurturing touch, Sensual being, Fore Play, and of course sex and lots of it.
Experiential Intimacy was served by Shared experiences, Trying new things, Routines, Consistency, Adventure, and spontaneity.
Intellectual Intimacy was served by Deep conversation, Mental stimulation, Opinions and beliefs, Introspection, Creativity, and Curiosity.
And finally, Spiritual Intimacy was served by the Inner world, prayer and meditation, Faith, Higher power, and Values working with Morals and Ethics.
These expressions of intimacy have been accepted in the Western mainstream, where they are taught in many different schools of thought. Still, in reality, intimacy is universal and not well known. We often mistake the prelude to sex as intimacy, but it is how we treat ourselves and others who are important to us to foster the best virtues of being human. To care for something and to offer kindness is the path to intimate living, and Anne practiced intimacy in all things. I learned to allow it, to receive it gracefully, and to return intimacy, not as an obligation but as an act of free will.
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