by tashmcgill | Feb 14, 2015 | Theatre
Thriller Live unashamedly celebrates the life and back catalogue of the undisputed King of Pop, Michael Jackson. When you read that the show has been playing in London’s West End since 2009, it would be easy to mistake this for a musical tribute. But it’s really not, it’s something so much more.
This slightly-over 2 hour long show sets a blistering pace through Jackson’s back catalogue from the earliest of Jackson 5 days to the iconic pop ballads us children of the 80s and 90s knew.
The iconic dance moves.
It’s been nearly 6 years since the icon died and I remember watching the queues of people outside the Staples Center in LA awaiting the launch of the documentary-film of what would have been his major comeback tour, “This Is It”. Last night’s atmostphere at Auckland’s Civic Theatre was almost as energising, with fans up and on their feet for all the major hits.
This really comes as no suprise – with an international cast of dancers, singers and live musicians pulling out hit after hit and storytelling along the way. Even the most devoted of us MJ fans murmured with appreciation as we recalled that Thriller spawned 7 Top 10 hits from 11 album tracks. It’s impressive even now to remember, but even more impressive to see and hear those tunes (and those dance moves) delivered with eerie precision.
The talented Mig Ayesa (Sydney-born, frequent traveller to these shores in shows like Annie) is one of 5 lead vocalists including Australian Prinnie Stevens, who rose to mainstream fame through her appearance on The Voice, but comes from a musical theatre background. It’s Manchester born Alex Buchanan that steals your breath away however. You wouldn’t even have to close your eyes to believe you were listening to the King of Pop himself, the vocal and dance performance is so bang on.
Considering how much I would have considered paying to see the comeback tour, the night was intensely moving even as I calculated there was no possible way I’d hear all my favourite tracks from a 45 year musical career. That being said, the back catalogue they managed to cover was remarkable; including my favourites Man In The Mirror, Billie Jean, Beat It and of course, Thriller.
Could there be much more perfect way to spend Friday the 13th than eagerly awaiting the iconic zombie dance number? I think not! Even the most stoic of audiences will find it hard resist tapping their feet, clapping and dancing on request from the stage. It was easy to sense the love and inspiration that Michael Jackson birthed across generations of fans; young and old and to leave a venue smiling, laughing and feeling all the best parts of nostalgia was a real treat.
The show is only playing a super short season 12 – 22 February at The Civic in Auckland, but you won’t regret grabbing tickets now and making this show a priority! Ticketing information available here.
With thanks to Auckland Live.
by tashmcgill | Feb 8, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Health, Youth Work
Real Sex & Emotional Intimacy – These Stories Are Not My Secrets.
I’m able to put words to it now, I think – what I’ve been learning is that the healthy and whole sexual expression I crave is both physical and emotional. It should be clear by now. Therefore, my definition of sexuality has become much bigger. My sexuality is the expression of physical, emotional and spiritual intimacy.
If we want to have good, great sex (and great relationships, I suppose) then we need to learn to have true emotional intimacy with each other. Well, crap. Here’s the truth of it. I’m terrible at emotional intimacy. I think many of us are, but I’ll share with you my perspective.
*This article is part of a series; I recommend reading Part One: A Modern Virgin, Part Two: What I Learned About Sex From An Older Man, Part Three: Trying To Lose My Virginity first. I’m welcoming feedback and contributions so please email me here.
My primary love languages are physical touch and quality time. So it’s no wonder that much of my desire for love is about the physical connection. Still, that shouldn’t mean I ignore the need to share my whole emotional self and find a partner who will receive and accept me well, someone who can and will encourage me in emotional intimacy, not just physical.
I share some pretty personal thoughts on the internet most days so you might find it hard to believe that I’m not good at emotional honesty. But those are just my stories. They are things I’ve processed, thought about, discussed and then finessed ready for publishing. They are not my secrets or my truest self.
Filtering.
Somewhere in my youth and young adult years, I learned to filter. I learned to filter because my thoughts and feelings could push people away. If I said or asked for the wrong thing, expressed the wrong feeling – rejection came swiftly. Sometimes a little rejection or humiliation, sometimes total abandonment. I learned that my feelings weren’t to be trusted and should rarely be expressed. I think we all learn this filtering, to some degree or another.
Don’t think for a minute that you see all of me here on the Internet. I’ve got a collection of stories I’m comfortable enough to share and that no longer pose a risk in sharing. My bravery is in continuing to think through what I’m learning offline, in hopes one day I can share it.
Beyond the amusing anecdotes, the generous dinner parties and the many people who cross my threshold, I hide my deepest parts away. My heart is frequently hidden behind a thick concrete wall. It’s not easy to get in there. My fear is exposing my truest self to the ones I care about most. Emotional intimacy, the one thing I’m looking for is something I’m terrible at it because it actually requires more than one person.
Emotional intimacy isn’t just sharing part of yourself, it’s also having that part of you accepted and acknowledged by another person. Immediately, the connection between the emotional and physical acts of intimacy should be obvious. However, if I’ve been living behind a concrete wall, I don’t necessarily have great skills for learning to trust or making good choices around trust.
On one hand, we’re told to guard our hearts and only let the trustworthy ones in. On the other hand, we’re told to be bold and go after what we want. But the earliest lessons we learn in love can be the most dangerous. If I learn that men aren’t interested in my thoughts or feelings, or that I must be all about meeting his needs rather than my own, everything else becomes coloured.
So these days, when I bravely reveal parts of myself, I immediately start waiting for the rejection to come. Or, if a small part of who I am is accepted and not rejected, I can’t help but want to share more and more (or even all of myself), because the feeling is so rare. Neither of those places is particularly healthy. So I live with a lot of people close to me, like a party at the gates of the secret garden. Few have the key to the garden and even fewer still step inside.
It’s easy to know that I like whisky, for example. Or even how I like to drink it. A few might even share whisky with me under the stars or in a favourite alcove. But there is so much more under my skin and inside my mind than what translates to Facebook or Instagram. The fleeting, silly stupid thoughts and the beautiful, sacred ones; most of these thoughts never leave my lips. Most people have never seen the true extent of my generosity, my warmth or my kindness. The things I do are nothing in comparison to what I think of doing – but these secrets, I keep for myself for now, in a secret place.
Emotional intimacy in the future will require that at some point, I’ll have to risk letting someone inside the garden wall. I might even have to risk asking someone to come inside the garden wall.
I’ve heard too many people talk about the loneliness of the marriage bed, where physical intimacy and emotional intimacy are rarely connected. And I can see how this becomes true – after all, touch is such an easy way of expressing pleasure and approval, but without words or supporting actions it’s not always enough.
My friend Karl has some great thoughts here, largely from the perspective of a man trying to raise 4 sons, 1 daughter and with a long-standing commitment to youth work.
“Intimacy (In- to -me -see..) is an internal desire expressed so often externally. The modern expression of relationships misses the point of intimacy and encourages sexual expression as a means to an end. As I teach my sons…intimacy is often better expressed with clothes on. Our young men need to be coached on intimacy within the context of male relationship too, so sex doesn’t interfere in the early development of knowing how to be strong while laid bare. If we breed shallow men afraid of openness and transparency, they’re unable to meet emotional needs as a lover.
Unfortunately most men are lazy relational lovers. Preferring to love by touch with their hands. It’s learned behaviour from following childlike lust fuelled by curiosity and infatuation. It’s easy, like a takeaway diet. To love and be loved (intimacy) is to go to the farmers market having written a menu formed on knowing the dinner guest, not defined by the produce available at the time, but a meal crafted on tangible knowledge of the invited. (Their needs, desires etc – Ed.) Learning to be lovers, friends, companions, partners is a dance worth learning before the uncomplicated-complicated dance of sex.
To know the chef within, to add the knowledge of produce then the skill, talent of cooking is to form Michelin chefs. Society has formed men great at BBQ but poor in the kitchen. I’d love the focus to shift for our youth to becoming great lovers.. first with clothes on.. to develop a knowledge of themselves. Once the clothes come off, the heart beats too fast for the heart to listen and a language of love is dulled and hard to define. The focus of intimacy then becomes now how I feel at a muddled physical level. “
I think there’s a lot of merit in what Karl is talking about, not just for young men but young women as well. The key is learning to express love through more than just physical touch and connection. So how do we overcome the hurdle of learning to share our real selves and welcome another whole self?
I long to hear somebody ask for a key to the garden. Tell me more, show me more of yourself, is what I long to hear. Intimacy is an unending mystery, you can never fully know another person. There is always another discovery, another question, another thought or feeling to explore. I believe intimacy is both learning how to enjoy and unravel the endless mystery and then habitually engaging in the mystery.
My desire to share all of my secret self the moment I connect with someone who feels trustworthy is pretty flawed. The point is to discover those things, not to lay them out all at once. It’s helpful to observe those who are willing to do the work of discovery. Those who want to unpack the hidden woman behind the Facebook feed. Previously, I’ve thought that intimacy was to be known, but now I see that true intimacy is to be in the knowing. An ongoing process – where two people choose to continue to discover each other. Upon entering the gated, secret garden they discover it is in fact, endless. Over time, some flowers, trees and ponds might become familiar, much-loved features but there is always something new to see or discover.
by tashmcgill | Feb 7, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Health, Youth Work
Part 2: What I Didn’t Learn At Church.
It frustrates me that I didn’t learn about sex being good and beautiful from the church. While the language is changing in some select spaces, largely the message about sex I heard from the church was conflicted and confusing. It wasn’t even informative. Largely, it was based in an idealized, impractical kind of fairy-tale within a punitive capital punishment-led kingdom.
If the church wants to claim any kind of precedence of understanding humanity and how things work best due to their relationship with the Creator, you’d think we’d be doing a better job of advocating for the good stuff, like sex – being an awesome way of building intimacy. Instead it seems as if all the ways in which sex can break us and harm us is the focus of the Church’s teaching on the subject.
While certainly, there have been some harmful sexual experiences in my life (using broad definitions and refusing to dwell on what’s past), I’ve seen people caught in cycles of fear and denial, refusing to treat sex as something we should be engaging in as liberally as possible.
So instead, I learned that sex was good, beautiful and necessary from an old wise friend over coffee, in his backyard. I learned about sex as a philosophy, not as a practice. He was a musician and a philosopher some 40 years my senior. We became friends when I was 17 years old, he was in his 50s and we remained friends until his death, when I was 32. Here’s a warning – you might find it hard to believe that this was as beautiful and pure a friendship as what I describe. But truly, it was.
This post is part of a series that begins with A Modern Virgin. I’d love your feedback and input. If you’d like to participate in the conversation email me here.
Our friendship and conversations gave me freedom to explore previously taboo subjects. Not surprisingly, it helped that he was a nudist at home. I discovered this fact in the most practical way; I visited, he made coffee. We sat down in the back garden of his central city cottage and he took off the sarong he was wearing. I had thought little of his attire on my arrival; it was summer and hot, he was a tennis player and had an older, but well-kept physique. I, having been raised to be unflappable in most situations, simply continued in the thread of conversation. We were talking about writing, as we often did.
So there was I, sitting with a naked man completely at home in his own skin. Nakedness and sexuality, therefore must not be the same. Ideas of modesty and how we clothe our sexuality were torn down, just like that. Yet, there was a certain provocative freedom that would come from this. I being young, curious and in an environment free of evangelical propriety, had free rein to ask questions without the shame and humiliation that so frequently inhibited other conversations.
I should be clear – there was nothing incendiary about our relationship, but eventually it became as natural to talk about our collective human sexuality as it was to talk about good books we had read and interviews we had listened to. He had a long time love and she held no qualms about our friendship.
My complete acceptance of him was a continual matter of wonder, he said. No surprise given his upbringing in the church and knowing I had come from a similar background. So we went, regularly meeting, his body at times like a life drawing class and at other times fully clothed. It wasn’t for a few years that my sexuality came into the conversation.
We were discussing provocation; as an art-form and as a weapon. How people can use tone, voice, words and action to provoke and manipulate certain tensions and outcomes in any environment. I was fascinated by social sex at the time, the way that groups of people arrange themselves around powerful chemistry and charisma.
Even now, the way that we can engage and use our sexuality through social dynamics and in all manner of both corporate and casual settings is a matter of fascination to me. Why am I drawn to touch, embrace and hold some friends and not others? How do I use my body to command attention in the room? These are questions I become more aware of as I use my presence in a room to draw out certain responses, when needed.
My friend said, “Well of course – you’re an expert at it.”
The truth is, I wasn’t then but I’m getting better at it now. Perhaps as I have become more comfortable in my skin. But truthfully, some fifteen years on from this conversation, I’m often still lost as to how to engage my body in the pursuit of outcomes I want outside of the workplace. Which sounds worse than it is, but there is a certain art in how you carry yourself in a presentation or negotiation. In the lounge room or the bar, I don’t want to work that hard.
I replied, “Hardly – I’m not sure I’d know where to start. I’m a theorist by observation, only.” The rest of the words are a bit of jumble in my memory, but my confession of virginity still took him by surprise.
“But surely, after all this time – I mean, it never occurred to me that you might be. You’re so vital and full of life, you need to be having sex. You’ve got to engage, it’s a waste if you don’t.”
I explained to him, much as I have to you, that it wasn’t a matter of choice but rather accident and the occasion had never arisen, so to speak.
There was a pointed break in the conversation while we allowed ourselves to laugh. Then, perhaps the sweetest gift I’ve had to date, he took me by the hand and assured me, it was nearly impossible for things not to rise in the presence of such a vital, living, passionate and inspiring creature as I was. To this day, he remains the only man to tell me so – that I am beautiful for more than my philosophy. I mean, there are plenty of people who appreciate my wit and intelligence, my discourse on theories, music, whisky and theologies. But to tell a woman you find her to be beautiful – it moved me then, it moves me now.
Oh, to be seen. To be affirmed. Not only was he telling me, teaching me that sex was beautiful, good and essential but also that my unique sexuality was good. Most importantly, he recognized that it was within me already strong and with that, freedom came. Not wrong, not rejected, not clumsy or ignorant but good.
From then on, we could and would often speak of sex in much more personal terms than we had before. I wanted to know how sex between two people might heal something and could it also break something? Could it be meaningless physical expression but then the next time be deep and soul-connecting?
I learned that it could be all those things. He gave me rich, clear understanding of the power of being present to one another’s bodies, the sacredness of touch even between friends. And I learned to laugh about sex with him, clothed or not
I learned that I could be a sexual, vital and alive creature; that I could know and understand sex without having engaged in it. Certainly, it raised more questions and curiosity within me but it was good curiosity. A catalogue of experiments and experiences to one day explore. We shared more intimacy in those backyard moments that I’ve probably shared with many. Through it all, sex was a sacred ritual for bringing humans together and building relationships, expressing something of ourselves to another, even in a conversation about it.
Ever since, I’ve been alive in a way that I wasn’t before. Tuned in to how both my body and my soul needs and draws on the philosophy of sex. I saw my friend naked all the time. I watched his body age over 15 years of friendship, before my eyes. I learned that sex is not about bodies, but the body is an instrument of sex, just like the mind.
My friend never saw me naked, although he did invite me to try it, once. By then, it wasn’t intimidating to be asked nor offensive to say no. I had no doubt that he accepted me, flaws and curves and irregularities; and more than that, he called me beautiful.
From Learning to Having.
Long before I realised it for myself, he knew I’d wasn’t suited to a one night stand nor did he want me to be. ‘Promise me,’ he said, ‘it’ll have to be good, ok? Don’t let it be some drunk mother***ker or a kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing, alright? Make sure it’s someone I’d approve of, if I don’t meet him first, ok kid?’
It was his voice I heard in my head the first time and only time I was propositioned in a bar. I didn’t hear a clanging moral bell, nor an angel sitting on my shoulder. There was no devil either, just a friend who knew me and knew a lot about what mattered in the world reminding me what good sex is.
It’s his voice that comforts me when I am alone and feeling unseen, untouched in the world. When what my body craves and what my soul feels empty of is the loudest voice in the room. When I’m trying to make good decisions about dealing with my sexuality, I hear him say again.
‘Hey man, you’re going to be so good at this, it’s outta this world! Someone like you, with all that fire and creativity – unbelievable, man, unbelievable!’
For some people, maybe sex and love is less complicated, but for me, living without both for such a long time, I am full of fear and insecurity. I fear not being any good at it. I fear not being attractive enough or interesting enough. I fear being mismatched in sexual desire with a partner, I fear so many things but mostly I fear that I will never know this deep, body and soul connection with another human being. I don’t pretend that my desire is solely for an intimate and meaningful relationship, or that I simply want hot-blooded sex. I fear that I want more than I deserve or can have.
Then I remember that this intelligent, passionate, wise and slightly eccentric man saw me and acknowledged me, called me beautiful. He didn’t answer all of the question, but he certainly gave me hope that one day I might find expression of all that was within.
What I could admit to him, but few others over my lifetime, is exactly how defined and motivated by my sexuality I am.
by tashmcgill | Feb 3, 2015 | Mind, Relationships
There’s nothing more heartbreaking or frustrating than listening to a friend talk about the latest fight they had with their lover or family member, when you hear an emergence of the same old patterns, the same old stories and the same habits. Those habits are slowly destroying the future of the relationship.
Conflict is necessary and inevitable, but not always necessarily bad. Conflict is often how we discover and process our differences. Because conflict can be any difference of opinion or desires, it is not always a ‘loud’ expression of discord. It’s how express conflict that makes all the difference as to whether it’s healthy or unhealthy.
In romantic situations, we’re often sold an idea of conflict merely being thinly veiled passion but despite promises of great makeup sex – conflict is much more than the flipside of our passion. Each of us will experience conflict with many different people in different ways throughout our lifetime. The key is to not become so habitual in the way we personally express conflict, that we are unable to learn and grow new, smarter ways of addressing conflict in our interpersonal relationships.
Most of us only have one, maybe two fight modes. If those fight modes are not constructive, then conflict is likely to be unhealthy, rather than something we can work through to achieve greater understanding, harmony and intimacy. If you can learn to evolve your fight modes over time, you can become a better communicator through conflict. You can grow from it. If you get stuck in an unconstructive fight mode, you might well be doing damage unwittingly.
Wondering what an unconstructive fight mode might be? Here are a few examples.
The Demand/Withdraw Cycle.
One partner (research says more often it will be a woman) demands change, discussion or resolution of an issue, while the other partner avoids or deflects. This cycle is a terrible way to fight because ultimately, nothing is able to be resolved. If one person is not participating in a conversation, it’s not really a fight. Quickly it becomes an attack. The danger is one person becoming dominant over the other because how they raise the issues (which may well be valid) is pushing the defensive boundaries of the other partner, thereby shutting down other forms of resolution or communication.
Carrying a Duffel Bag.
If you or your loved one’s fight mode includes frequently revisited previous conflicts, wrongs or mistakes – that’s a Duffel Bag fight mode. This person is cataloguing previous encounters and regularly unpacks them in any argument to back up their point. This is soul-destroying to live with. Are you carrying a duffel bag of things you’ve fought about but not resolved? Are you carrying a list of previous mistakes and not allowing your loved one a chance to move on or progress? Time to reset your fight modes before you destroy what’s left of your partner’s self-esteem or have yours destroyed.
The Roll Over.
Slightly different to the Demand/Withdraw (that one is really a team effort!), the Roll Over is the posture of someone who is already feeling defeated and prefers not to engage in the conflict at all. Whether you or your loved one is responding with this posture, it’s a fast track to misunderstanding and deep wounds on both sides. This can also be displayed as simply ignoring the issue.
The Pushback.
If one partner believes there to be an issue but the other partner proactively pushes back or denies the issue. Usually this is associated with a putdown of the other person’s perception or security in the relationship and/or personal critique.
The Whiplash.
If you’re ever been on the receiving end of this one, it’s actually hard to keep up with where the emotional swing is at. At any point in the conflict, your loved ones attitude might be full of love and/or remorse only to swing back moments later. It creates total instability and undermines any trust.
The Here We Go Again.
The fight instigator usually has a regular trigger that causes a chain reaction. The chain reaction might also include some of the above, however usually the other partner can recognize similar patterns and language being used and therefore will either role play how they’ve previously temporarily resolved the conflict or shut down. Repeating temporary solutions only exacerbates and extends the duration of this unhealthy conflict.
The ‘I Am Right, Regardless’ Posture.
If either partner or loved one maintains this posture, you might as well call it quits now. There is little comeback for a relationship where one party cannot reasonably fathom the possibility that they may be wrong. Where one person assumes a superior position to the other from the outset, the resulting conversation or conflict cannot be resolved without an affliction to the personhood of one or the other.
And of course Flight Mode.
Avoidance at all costs, the truth is that this mode usually only occurs if there is some sort of identity wound or paradigm that prevents the person from being able to face (even terrified) conflict of any kind. This might be an habitual affliction or something that is a direct result of previous conflicts.
A constructive fight mode might be something like Respond Don’t React, Listen Then Reflect, or even Blurt Then Talk. If you can talk about your fight modes then you’ve begun a path to recovery and constructive behaviour. If your fight modes are unhealthy, you’ll be either reinforcing negative patterns for yourself or the other person.
Learn to talk about fighting.
‘It makes it hard to talk to you when you go into this ‘………..’ mode’ because it makes me feel like….
Here’s the rub: it doesn’t matter what you fight about. The way you fight is actually what’s depicting the health of your relationship and communication. You could fight about the smallest trivial things each day, but if your conflict process is actually helping you to learn about one another in constructive ways, it’s fine. Typically these relationships already have a high level of security.
Healthy conflict can be exhilarating because a passionate encounter with another person’s beliefs and/or values can create a sense of intimacy. Think about when someone has stood up to protect the rights of others in a public setting, or the resolution of a longstanding family conflict. These emotions play highly into our moral compass when dealing with conflict.
Often, it simply doesn’t occur to people to talk about how they fight. The focus becomes what they were fighting about instead of how they approach the disagreement. The key to successfully moving towards ‘as little as possible conflict in the healthiest possible way’ means maintaining an open-mindedness to trying new ways of resolving conflict. This is particularly something that parents should be mindful of as they navigate through complex teenage or young adult years. At that stage of life, young adults are learning conflict patterns they are likely to repeat throughout their lifetimes.
If you are stuck in any one of these or other similar patterns – it’s time to get help or get out. The truth is that many relationships cannot be resolved because the work required to change behaviour patterns are too engrained to be re-wired neurologically or through behaviour therapy without a large commitment from both parties.
by tashmcgill | Feb 1, 2015 | Mind, Relationships
If you want to create something new in your life, you must first recognize what of the old you can and must, leave behind.
I firmly believe we need to learn to tell our histories better, so that we can set them free from our future. What I mean to say is, when we begin to carve out new relationships or new ways of being, we have to carve through old habits, old perceptions and old, clogged filters from what we have experienced in the past – in order to experience something new in the future. (more…)
