This year with the ghoulish holiday’s arrival, I spent several hours talking to a male friend about the libidinal shadow side of our lives. He was quizzing me about the complexities of the feminine and I was enthralled to be in the company of masculine loquaciousness at its most transparent.

Nearing dusk, I feel a little less perplexed by the mysteries of coupling now that I have a very audacious picture of one introspective and articulate friend’s primal anatomical reaction to a woman’s physicality.

Leaving our discussion, a plethora of my recent interactions filed through my inner eye like a slo-mo skin flick Release from self- censorship ensued.

As a result, I have to say I’m a little less shell shocked by the prospect of entering into another relational dance in the near future.

What a serendipitous outcome to my innocent errand to the the cellphone fix-it shop. One never knows what will befall a simple drive down to the Marina at midday!

Maybe I edged a little closer to Carl Jung’s advice to know the shadow side of ourselves or be surprised by the unknown and mistake it for fate.

(Photo: Berlin in the U-Bahn)