Intimacy

As we identify with the feelings of another, so do we catch sight in fleeting moments of a resonance to the deeper potential of intimacy. Sometimes it endures. Most often it does not. It is as the firefly in the instant of its luminance, once glimpsed in its darting but resisting our attempts to seize it. It is precisely in those brief moments, when the reality of intimacy is seemingly in our grasp that it becomes the most sought after of gifts.

What is intimacy? How best should we describe it? Where is it to be seen? In a sense it is all around us, ready to touch us in so many forms… in the delights of physical activity, in the baby at her mother's breast, in the man brushing down his dog, to children in the intensity of their play, in the cavorting of dolphins. The list is endless. On each occasion there is a feeling of perfection, as though in that instant nothing else counts for much. It is exclusive, seeks no approval and is the trysting gate where we meet with the depth of our feelings.

Words fail to do it justice… something of which I am well aware! It is in our loneliness that we seek it, as if to discover an oasis of calm and gentleness in a world where we so often meet with  turbulence and noise. In its presence there is serenity. In its absence there is a void where restlessness holds us in its maw. We celebrate how the beauty of a sunset causes us to stop in our tracks. Yet of those moments, it is strange how little trace of intimacy is left in our lives... it has been, it is there and will come again when least expected.

It is the nature of intimacy that it cannot be controlled or marshalled to suit our desires. When felt, when perceived, when present in our lives, it is like the sudden drops of a spring shower that awake our immediate interest. In those transient moments it holds an important truth. When we are really absorbed by a sunset, it is as though our feelings shift to a different level. For most of us such times are rare. Often are we besieged by fatigue, by haste and a hundred and one things that shackle our minds to the humdrum chores of living.

Intimacy cannot be controlled or marshalled to suit our desires

To gain another perspective on intimacy, and of course they are legion, for in each person it resonates to a different heart, it is necessary to look at its absence, at those feelings of loneliness and confusion that so easily beset us. It is a truth that we are born alone into a world where love and welcome are to be found but cannot be taken for granted. Once our early stumbles are past, we enter a time when relationships come with conditions, some to be accepted but many inimical to our spirits. As we struggle to adjust and hope that our efforts will be rewarded, we often ride roughshod over our feelings. We frequently ignore the lodestone of their direction and meet with a measure of loneliness that is all too painful in the bruises it inflicts.

In a world where economic pressures constantly bend us to their will, the media play a central role in keeping the juggernaut of desires permanently inflamed. It is into this powerful melting pot of what is prescribed as essential to our wellbeing that intimacy is hijacked from the personal to a social necessity. The promise of intimacy is upstaged by the diamond ring, the cruise, the latest car, or the comfort of home with its ever-expanding list of desirable improvements. Intimacy is stripped of its innocence and becomes a commodity that sells with no thought for the lonely, junk-ridden environment of its creation.

When the marketplace speaks of scarcity, of exclusivity and of desire over need, intimacy will have none of that. If we had eyes to see, we would quickly realise that it is about abundance, generosity, and a truth hard to contradict. Above all else it offers itself freely in its spontaneity and in an open challenge to our understanding. It seeks not to control us; only to present us with an experience that we are at liberty to accept or deny. Unlike the fantasies promoted by the media, it distorts nothing and expects nothing. Intimacy and freedom walk hand in hand, yoked to a common truth, a unique perspective on reality. Our feelings deserve the very best, and it is in those moments of intimacy that they touch on what is most precious.

Intimacy thrives best within the compass of its freedom

Intimacy has many perils, not least that our discernment is then alert to all that fails to pass the bar. Once aware of its presence, only the foolish would settle for less and only the gullible would claim to have found a substitute. In our longing for intimacy, we expose ourselves to the sharp blade of repeated deception. Yet in our hunger lies a stoic persistence that compels us to search ever further. It is not for the faint-hearted, neither for the cynic born of disillusion, nor for those who have come to rely on authority. It is a personal quest, in which we are the sole arbiters of our experience. To expect anything less, would ask us to settle for something of of little value when so much cries to be felt, to be seen, to be heard.

Intimacy is by its very nature unique. No kiss is similar, no sunset repeated, no gentle echo of kindness quite the same. And yet the paradox remains that despite its many facets our reaction cuts deep to our heartstrings. When intimacy moves us, we know we are in the presence of something special, something that can fill our eyes with tears and reduce all else to a blurred backdrop of seeming irrelevance. It doesn’t matter how intimacy strikes. It resists our attempts to predict its occurrence. All that we can hope for is that our response will measure up to its appearance and honour its reality.

In the ordinary pattern of our lives, we generally look for security and for the sounds that open and close the rhythms of each day. We may be excited by the notion of intimacy, and we may seek it. But often, we are shocked by the rude and unsettling quality of its occurrence, compelling us like a magnet to witness its disturbing power. It has the uncanny ability to wrench us, unprepared, into a new orbit of feeling, where we look in vain for those anchors that usually hold us fast to the familiar. We may try to account for our feelings only to lapse into words that fail them and where the justice of our speech appears clumsy and ill considered. Intimacy is like that... it would plunge us into deep waters and then revel at our attempts to encompass its reality.

Intimacy thrives best within the compass of its freedom. It doesn’t matter what the form it takes, nor its expression. It delights neither in confinement nor in the rules and expectations of society. Just as the arc of the rainbow defies our chase, so does intimacy confound our curiosity. It is a law unto itself, asking only that we respect and enjoy its existence. Yet freedom always comes with a price. It demands we surrender to its presence or else lose sight of its vitality. Intimacy without freedom of action is but a counterfeit of little merit. It forces both the actor and the observer to throw off the chains of societal conditioning and embrace its contradictions.

Intimacy and freedom walk hand in hand, yoked to a common truth, a unique perspective on reality

To cross the Rubicon that defines the limits of our ordinary perception requires courage as we step away from conventional belief and venture into what lies beyond our immediate understanding. Intimacy is often discerned at the edge of normal functioning, of acceptable behaviour and that to which we relate with ease. It creates a place, even a path that appears from nowhere and whose heading is unknown. To imagine it could be otherwise, when we are dealing with feelings rarely encountered, is to bask in foolishness. For it is precisely in its call, in its otherness that we learn something of its elements and recognise that it challenges us not as a foe but as a friend.

Intimacy demands that we suspend all prior beliefs as we experience something of its elemental truth... after all, what lies beyond intimacy? Is our curiosity to push us further into the unknown? Or have we reached the bedrock that defines the limits of our feelings? Hard to know and possibly harder to accept. For some the depth of their feelings suggests that there is always further to go. For many, our limitations are all too obvious and our feelings relatively lightweight in their constancy. We dip our toes into the stream. It is sufficient.

Finally let it not be said that the pleasures of intimacy are reserved for the few, when clearly there are rank upon rank of intimate experiences awaiting all of us. The keys lie in the palm of our hand...innocence, patience, spontaneity and a willingness to surrender to the unknown. The path is straight, the passage narrow, but we know that our direction is true.

© 2025 Nick Halpin