Honesty, or transparency, was the key element in the social system. Ideally, everybody knew who was attracted to whom. Casually, working together, we would talk about our sexual attractions; and more formally, everybody in the community had mentors with whom we were in almost daily communication about any aspect of our whole lives, including our sexuality. And there were required meetings practically each evening, separated by gender, where we talked a lot about sex and relationships. The women's meeting had an important biological as well as social function, because birth control was performed by visual examination of the woman's cervix with a gynecological speculum by a trained participant, and each woman kept her reproductive cycle charted. This way people could have sex without the corporate interference of latex or drugs.
In the evening meetings we talked about the whole range of subjects surrounding sexuality, like intention, jealousy, technique, or merely the directing of scheduled sexual traffic to the somewhat limited number of private spaces. We lived in very close quarters, many to a room, sometimes segregated by gender, and almost no intimate partners shared living spaces. There were no particular rules about what was and was not allowed, but the group determined what was and was not healthy with regard to any particular living arrangement, or really for any other aspect of an individual's life. The group was all, the individual a part of that group. Privacy was simply not valued. It was believed that only through completely open and honest communication, and highly facilitated group discussion, could reasonably healthy relationships, intimate or otherwise, evolve.
Monogamy was rare and always temporary, even between parents, although commitment was valued. It was thought that within traditionally monogamous relationships, "couples" hid out from the community, each other, and their lives, limiting their possibilities for a more "evolved" life. When you wanted to have a "date" with someone you were attracted to, you didn't just proposition them the next time you saw them, despite the importance of honesty. You consulted with your mentor and they consulted with your interest's mentor and them, or alternatively you just asked someone handy to ask the person you were attracted to if they were interested in getting together. This system sounds like junior high school, but the goal was to circumvent the cultural dishonesty that is so common when two people are trying to communicate about what they really might want from each other sexually. After a "date" more communication was, of course, in order. How did it go? What happened? How did it feel?
I know it all sounds programmatic and unromantic if not downright juvenile, but isn't the reality of our culture's sexual mores immature, dishonest, and dysfunctional? Drastic measures seemed in order for desperate people in our difficult world. And you really had to be desperate for a different way of life to go through all the group process surrounding every aspect of your life in this community. For me, there wasn't really any part of the community's internal social philosophy with which I disagreed. In fact, I and every other person in the group seemed to evolve sexually and intimately. I spent some of my happiest years in this community, cult or not. I saw so many beautiful people come out of their sexual shells of fear and shame and go for the pleasure and intimate connection they wanted and needed. Despite parents who were not even remotely monogamous, children seemed to grow up beautifully healthy and socially mature well beyond their years. I had the most honest, loving intimate relationship of my life there. It was a culture based on honesty and trust. Almost every day, I miss so many of the people who were a part of my years there.
It was the philosophy surrounding our relationship to the outside world that, ultimately, I just could not stomach. The world and all the people in it outside our community of fifty were viewed as the enemy "spoilers," killing themselves as well as the planet. The venom of this political philosophy and its hierarchical demands of loyalty had the effect of narrowing the world to a degree I found to be impossibly depressing. Although I loved how people within our group related to each other, I couldn't stand how the group related to the society at large.
When I went to town, I wanted to enjoy it for what it was, not feel compelled to consider it "enemy territory." Even if the mainstream culture seemed hopelessly mired in institutions and behavior patterns that were destroying the planet and our own lives, it didn't seem to me to help matters to insecurely bash every person or group who was not a part of our immediate extended cult family. It didn't serve even our own ends. People came and went with the seasons and, knowing the severity of the community's attitude towards outsiders, unless of course they were ready to move back, they were rarely heard from again. Even mentioning that you missed someone who had left was usually thought of as a form of disloyalty to the group. The heart which opened to an extraordinary degree within the community, hardened to the world outside the community.
I never could accept that attitude, although I tried so hard to reconcile what I felt with what my community thought was the "Truth." In the end, I couldn't live with what I didn't believe, no matter that I enjoyed so much about life there and that I loved so many of the people. I certainly tried, but I couldn't bring myself to sacrifice my relationship to the world in exchange for a very evolved set of communal relationships.
Lawrence Siskind was an apprentice in Lost Valley's Organic Gardening and Community program for most of 2000, and continues to work on the Talking Leaves editorial board.
©2000* Talking Leaves
Winter 2001
Volume 10, Number 3
Relationship