Needing more or needing less

I bought myself the book titled 'Healing Developmental Trauma' by Laurence Heller. In this book, it explains the various responses to early developmental trauma. From memory there are five categories, and I feel confident in saying that I fall into the 'attunement' category. I have a longing for connection, to be attuned to someone else.

This falls in line with my submissive nature, I believe, and with my desire for a very strong connection with my mate, perhaps stronger than I am going to find in a vanilla marriage. I felt this as a young woman, well, as a teenager actually. I saw 'The Story of O' and resonated on a number of levels. It was profoundly arousing to me, absolutely, but it also felt like a slice of heaven to imagine having that deep sense of intimacy with someone else.

I think my husband's developmental trauma fits into the Trust category and whilst I hadn't thought about it like this before, he struggles to be dependent on someone, the opposite of my response to early developmental trauma. He lost his mother as a teenager, it was a shock, and it makes sense that the unconscious mind should decide that he cannot afford to need someone who could be taken away at a moment's notice, again.

So, he does depend on me for consistent support and simply being here, but it would seem from that chapter, he doesn't want to be so dependent on me as a deep D/s structure would require. Depth, in and of itself, maybe is something that he somatically resists. This chapter made sense to me as I know him and as I know his history. In this way, there is only so far we can go in a D/s dynamic. 

His (undiagnosed) ADHD is a factor as well. He needs a lot of time alone. He would say he needs the time because he has a relentless pile of work to get through, but it's more than that. I have noticed this need for as long as I have known him and that's almost 50 years.

I took quite a bit of time to consider this. What exactly would be the point of insisting this not be so? Can I, frustrated with the weather, stop the sun from bearing down this February, or insist that the Rain Gods do their job?

I did a flow yoga class last evening, not especially good, I thought, until Shavasana, when you lay like a corpse and absorb the benefits of your practice. I was calm, enjoying the heat of my body starting to reduce, when I noticed that thoughts were almost gone and instead there was a white light in front of my closed eyes, a bit like fog.

There is a person in my life that I thought about, someone close to the end of their life whose face came before me, putting the fog in the background, sort of encircling the face. My mind seemed to stop, and then the face dissolved into the fog; gone. 

It reminded me of a thought I have often had; that all our little worries dissolve into the past when we are gone. The worries were some sort of illusion, the world didn't need them and wouldn't be hanging onto them. In that moment, it felt like the needing more had also dissolved. At least, I had a taste of it.