Not long after our move to Louisiana, we watched friends'
three-year old daughter for an afternoon.
In rich, Southern, dulcet tones
the little lady sweetly confessed to Kathy, "I hit my brother."
"Why did you hit your brother?" Kathy asked.
She replied, "So I wouldn't kiss him."
She smacked her brother.
So she wouldn't smack her brother.
It would appear our patterns of intimacy are established
while we are quite young.
How conscious are you of your patterns of intimacy? How would you describe them? How would your most intimate friends describe your patterns of intimacy? Is there a way your patterns might be self-defeating?
What's the risk of intimacy? What's the reward? Which is the more powerful force in your gut: fear or love?
What's the better place? Who or what will help get you there?
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