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CONTENTS

1 A Gathering of Women and Men

2 The First Summit Meeting of the Sexes

3 In the Women's Camp

4 In the Men's Camp

5 Drowning in Our Fears

6 Facing the Masculine and Feminine Shadow

7 Laying Down Our Swords and Spears

8 Pathways to Peace

9 The Art of Partnership

Aaron Kipnis, Ph.D., and Elizabeth Herron, M.A.
The Gender Relations Institute
Box 4782
Santa Barbara, California 93140
phone/fax

For the children, with hope for the rebuilding of families and the
renewal of kinship between women and men.

INTRODUCTION

This book grew from in depth conversations and experiences with thousands of women and men who have attended our Gender Diplomacy" workshops, trainings and conferences around the nation. Our story here deals with one such group of women and men, whom we led on a one-week trip into the wilderness. Most of our workshops are conducted in auditoriums and lecture halls. And we've been impressed by the extent to which women and men can discover a new openness with each other, in a very short time, once given the opportunity to do so. In order to more deeply explore the material for this book, however, we decided to go where we could relax in an environment without the interruptions of preordained meals, starting and stopping times, and the ever-present hum of urban life.

We wanted to see if we could deepen the level of intimacy and honest communication within a group by living together as an experimental village. Against the backdrop of nature, and collectively facing the challenge of wilderness survival, both the women and men were inspired to open their hearts and minds to new perspectives. The length of time allowed for in depth dialogues also afforded us an opportunity to take a closer look at many contemporary gender issues such as dating practices; sex discrimination toward men and women; emotional, physical, and sexual abuse; female nurturing power versus male economic power; parenting and relationship conflicts; divorce inequities for both sexes; different communication styles; differing spiritual and philosophical ideals; and more.

At this point in the evolution of societies throughout the world, many women and men are looking for ways to better understand and communicate with the other sex and thus create more fulfilling relationships. That is a primary objective of this book. Incidentally, we intentionally use the word "other" sex, one that begs inquiry, instead of "opposite" sex, a word that for centuries has promoted an adversarial stance between the sexes. This is a small change in language, but it implies one of our basic beliefs: women and men are different but not intrinsically opposite to one another. Once our differences are better understood, we can experience our often mysterious otherness as complementary, rather than as a never-ending source of conflict.

It's apparent to most of us by now that the social contracts between women and men are rapidly changing, offering new hope for expanded freedoms for both. Yet, in our experience, contemporary women and men still remain divided on many issues. Some of the things we hear as we teach around the nation are that:

Men fear women's power to wound them emotionally; women fear men's power to wound them physically.

Women feel sexually harassed; men feel sexually manipulated and that their courting behavior is often misunderstood.

Women resent it that men won't take no for an answer; in men's experience, however, no often does in fact mean yes.

Men say that women are too emotional; women say men don't feel enough.

Women say that men don't do their fair share of housework and child care; men feel that women don't do an equal share of providing income and home maintenance.

Men feel that they no longer have regular opportunities to meet in private; women insist on their right to women-only clubs and schools.

Many women say that God and nature are female; many men believe the opposite.

Many women feel morally superior to men; many men feel that they are more logical and just.

Women say that men have destroyed the environment; men say that the women's movement has destroyed the family.

Men are often afraid to speak about their own vulnerability and victimization; women frequently deny their real power and capacity for abuse.

Women feel that men don't listen; men feel that women talk too much.

Many men believe that they must become more like women to be whole; and many women are trying to be more like men.

Both women and men have lost connection with a powerful, sacred image of masculinity and femininity that is in balance with the other sex.

One of our major beliefs is that there are usually two, equally valid, differing points of view toward all gender conflicts. In most books and the media, however, we generally hear about these issues only from a woman's point of view or from a man's. In this book, we hear equally from both as we propose new directions, which can help resolve our age-old conflicts that have the power to create deeper love and understanding in our relationships.

The stories we are about to tell, about the courageous people who joined us for a week in the wilderness, give the reader a deeply revealing glimpse into ways we might all improve our relationships, institutions, and communities. But make no mistake, as the authors, we come to this work waist-deep in our own personal biographies. We therefore include our own experiences as we discover more about the deep concerns of gender. We recognized early on that we were not just experts in this field, but were as deeply immersed in these issues in our personal lives as anyone else on that trip.

Both of us struggled with the risk of becoming perceived as traitors to our individual women's and men's camps, as we, of necessity, departed from old orthodoxies and party lines to begin building a new kind of relationship between women and men. You will also find expressed in the pages to come, the drama of the struggles we all face as women and men searching for more intimate, satisfying relationships. Through exploring our feelings about our often polarized roles we can also find the genuine common ground between them.

The wound between women and men is deep in our collective souls, wedded to our bones, and a constant theme in both our ancient and contemporary mythology. The need of men and women to find more harmonious ways to communicate with one another touches each one of us deeply. If we have had a single mission in writing this book, it is the belief that our efforts might make a contribution toward a deep healing with the other sex. Our hope is that our personal accounts, as well as the research and anecdotal information we have gathered, will be useful to all our readers as together we seek more peaceful and fulfilling relationships with our spouses, parents, co-workers and, perhaps most important of all, the children, who represent the future.

Chapter 1.

A Gathering of Women and Men

"If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are, a pattern that others have made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star."

---William Stafford

"Why are you bringing makeup and jewelry on a wilderness trip? Nobody really cares what you look like in the woods. Do they?" I asked, instantly regretting the words as they came out of my mouth.

"I care," replied Liz. "And I'm bringing a pretty scarf and skirt as well," she said firmly. "Just because you're content to spend eight days in the same pair of jeans and your old flannel shirts, don't expect me to live by the same standard. Anyway, what about this pile of fishing gear? Last time you brought all these lures and gizmos and never caught a thing until you started using grasshoppers. And how about the huge knife your father gave you? You never slay any bears with it. It just hangs there on your hip adding another pound to your load. So who's being frivolous about what they're taking along?"

It was already past midnight. We were preparing to leave at first light in quest of another plank for the bridge we were attempting to build across the gender gap. As is often the case before a gathering, we were a little testy with each other.

As we packed for our trip, I observed how differently Aaron and I regarded the importance of various things. I was more focused on aesthetics: packing spices and teas, an extra foam pad for comfort, an attractive cloth for us to set our meals upon. Aaron was more vigilant about survival stuff. Along with his already maligned big knife was a folding leather maker's tool, sort of like a Swiss army knife with pliers and other mini-tools. He also packed extra twine, snakebite and medical kits, a waterproof match container, and a large, extra ground cloth for building shelters.

Thinking back over the years, I recalled that as our camping trips progressed we usually came to appreciate what the other person brought along. For example, I delight in the fish he catches, and he is frequently pleased that I remembered to bring some "nonessential" item for comfort like hot chocolate or tea. Often the sum product of our individual aesthetic and practical differences makes a much better whole. But like many other couples, we often don't initially see the whole picture.

As I mentally reviewed the many one- to two-day workshops and trainings for women and men that Aaron and I had conducted over the last few years, I was suddenly aware that we had upped the ante on our gender reconciliation work. Were we really prepared to spend eight days in the wilderness with twelve acquaintances and strangers who, like us, wanted to explore more deeply the conflicts and truces between the sexes? Honestly? Not really. But we needed a vacation, and we wanted to do this summer workshop, so we had hit upon this plan to combine both. And now it was upon us.

As Liz and I continued packing, we made more considerations about discarding various items to keep our pack weight down. I was continually reminded of how different we really are. Items that were essential to Liz seemed incidental to me and vice versa. I wondered, as I often do, can women and men really understand one another?

As we challenged one another about this or that item, I asked myself, can't we simply work together without attempting to control each other? It was time to stop. To take a deep breath. We had to reconnect with what we knew to be true: We love each other. And we're very different. We respect one another. And we're very different. We admire one another's ability to teach. And we're very different. We're a great team. And we're very different. Every time we've taught together in the past it's been great. Yet, every time we embark on a new adventure, we go through the same old anxieties.

"Why do you think it's still so hard for us to trust each other at times?" I asked.

"Because," Liz replied, "I think we're afraid that the other person's way of doing things will somehow harm us or inhibit our power or make us look foolish. And at the heart of things, we each think our own way is best."

"Yeah, all that's true," I replied. "But even after these years of working well together, without dominating each other, we still have that fear deep in our bones."

"Yes," said Liz. "It's as if some of our fear is rooted in something much deeper than our personal experience. There seems to be some sort of fundamental fear between women and men that's gone on since the beginning of time."

Why Wilderness?

Liz and I got a late start on the morning of departure. We overslept. Each time we tried to make it out the door, the phone kept ringing. People were calling with last-minute queries. As we finally drove away from the city, toward the mountains, I was filled with delight. At last, we were packed. All the myriad details were handled. We were on our way. It had been almost two years since we had been in the wilderness. Too long.

Our plan was to get to the first camp a day before the rest of the group in order to have some time to rest, tune in to our new surroundings, and decompress a little before beginning the trip. We had a ten-hour drive ahead. Toward the late afternoon we were driving alongside a cascading creek that fed into Lake Shasta. It was a hot day and we were tired. Liz said, "Hey, let's stop and check out the creek."

"No way, Liz," I replied. "We're already late. I want to get to the camp before nightfall."

"Aw, come on, Aaron, just for a moment, let's take a break," Liz playfully implored.

"I don't want to have to hunt for the trailhead in the dark and it's already unlikely that we'll make it before sunset. I just want to keep going," I said irritably. Liz, however, was insistent about stopping.

"I've gotta pee anyway," she said.

So we pulled off, down a gravel road till we were out of sight of the highway. Liz immediately stripped off her clothes and hit the water. How could I resist? I joined her. The water was cold, clear, and refreshing. We splashed each other, laughed, and tumbled in the water. It felt great. It was as if, in addition to cleansing my body, the creek water was washing the dust off my senses as well. I suddenly became aware of the play of sunlight on the leaves fluttering in the warm afternoon breeze. I began to smell the pungent verdancy of the woods and the river vegetation. Birdcalls, the chuckling of the creek, and the swish of air flowing through the branches filled my ears. "Okay, Liz, this was great. Good idea."

As a man, I have been trained to focus on the goal. The problem with this training, however, is that sometimes I miss the pleasure of the journey along the way. As a woman, Liz is often more process oriented. This is good. She reminds us to jump in creeks. But for me, it presents a problem at times. It was getting dark and we were still a long way from the trailhead where we would meet the group---our goal.

By the time we passed through Shasta, it was well past dark. We stopped at a cafe for dinner, and Liz suggested that since it was still several hours to the trailhead, we should just spend the night in a motel. But there was Mount Shasta, its glacial peaks glistening in the moonlight. I was still determined to spend the night in the wilderness. I persuaded Liz to forgo a hot shower, and she reluctantly agreed to find a place to camp nearby for the night.

Less than an hour later, we were in our sleeping bags in Panther Meadows on the flanks of Mount Shasta, breathing the sweet night air and feasting on the complex beauty of moonlight and shadows on the tumbled moraine. Liz looked over at me as I snuggled deep in my sleeping bag and said, "Thanks for getting us here, Aaron. I love your capacity to say "The hell with the flow" and to push on for something you know is worthwhile."

I lay there looking up at the huge face of Mount Shasta and thought about all the old stories about the mountain being a sacred spot for Native Americans in this area. It certainly felt special. Although I had heard for many years that the earth is our mother, this mountain felt to me like a giant male god sleeping in the earth. I yawned, secure and at peace. It was good to be there, an auspicious beginning for our journey. Although I had many doubts at first, I was beginning to think we had made a good decision to hold the council in the wilderness instead of at a conference center or some other facility as we usually do.

I thought about how so much of what we know about ourselves is culture-specific. Who are we underneath the thin veneer of civilization, I wondered? Some fear monsters. Others suggest angels may there lie too. In his book, Journey of the Heart, psychologist John Welwood says that "our deepest sense of being male or female comes from the body, as our direct inheritance from the energies of earth and sky. . . . Unfortunately, however, many of us have lost touch with the powers of nature that nourish the essential male or female within. So, to find our genuine, powerful male or female energies, we need to reconnect with the wild, elemental spirit that lives in us."

Liz and I were hoping that through being in the wilderness, the members of our group would become more connected to their instinctual bodies. We were curious about whether this connection could lead us into a deeper experience of our intrinsic gender identity, if such a thing actually exists.

First Camp

Aaron and I were the first to arrive at the campsite the next day. Several hours of highway driving preceded another hour on the dusty, rutted dirt road that led to the trailhead. We were exhilarated to be done with driving at last, and ready to begin our group. We lugged our gear over to a battered redwood picnic table. Yellowjackets were buzzing angrily over some discarded chicken bones, and flies were swarming around a horse trailer. There were several cowboys preparing for a journey. Much to our dismay, it seemed they were packing in large amounts of beer, canned goods and hunting gear. It was somewhat inconsistent with our Rousseau-like fantasy of idyllic nature undisturbed by the trappings of civilization.

I said, "I'm outta here, Aaron," and proceeded to walk toward the sound of a nearby creek.

I returned in a few minutes. "There's a much better spot upstream," I told him. "It's clean, right by the water, and there's more privacy."

"But who's going to wait in the parking lot for the others?" asked Aaron.

"We'll take turns," I replied. "We'll all enjoy ourselves more if we camp in a pleasant spot."

Aaron suddenly realized I had a good point. The campground was a drag. It definitely lacked the wilderness aesthetic that we were hoping to experience. So we agreed to take turns walking back to the trailhead every hour or so. We picked up our gear and headed upstream. Just as we started to leave, however, the first carload of fellow adventurers arrived.

Marie and Larry had carpooled with Joel and Lisa. In the course of organizing the trip, we had put them in touch with one another, since they were all from the San Francisco Bay Area.

"Yeah!" cried Marie. "We made it!"

Larry was strangely silent, seemingly a little dazed. Joel and Lisa piled out of the back of the car. Lisa looked over at the cowboys standing around, smoking and drinking beer in the shade of a magnificent red fir. She glanced at us with a slight wince that seemed to say, "What have you gotten me into?"

Lisa is a thirty-five-year-old professor of psychology at a community college, and her husband, Joel, is a forty-two-year-old professor of sociology at a major university. They have one child who was left in the care of Joel's mother for the week. Over the years, Joel has invited Aaron, with whom he shares an interest in male psychology, to address several of his classes. Through their acquaintance, Lisa and I met socially. The four of us have already had some lively conversations on gender issues. Both Aaron and I were happy that they had decided to join our trip and that they had already hooked up with Larry and Marie. For them, the group experience had already begun.

Like most of the others who were about to arrive, we'd never met Marie and Larry. Marie is thirty-seven years old. She is a lawyer and the main provider for their family, which includes two girls aged four and ten. Marie is active in women's politics and women's rights advocacy. Larry is a thirty-four-year-old self- employed software developer who works at home, providing most of the child care. Larry walked over to us and said, "Wow! This place is great. When's dinner? We jammed all the way from San Francisco without stopping for lunch. Marie can happily live on just trail bars and fruit, but I need a real meal, now!"

The six of us moved up to the creekside camping spot. Larry immediately began gathering firewood, intent on a hot meal. The spot I had found was surrounded by tall, majestic cedar trees. Blue Water Creek rushed by, cool, clear, and sweet. The slanting rays of fading sunlight reflected on the water, dancing in the swirling currents like a cascade of diamonds.

While Aaron and the others set up camp, I walked back to the parking area to check on other participants. When I got there, six more members of our tribe had arrived. Gloria introduced herself and her companion, Jerry. Gloria is a forty-eight-year- old businesswoman who runs an art gallery in conjunction with several other women. Jerry, a thin, gentle-looking man, also in his late forties, is a sculptor and an activist involved in a variety of social and environmental issues. He and Gloria have been living together for the last five years.

Also, there was Andy, a single twenty-seven-year-old man. Andy is a counselor at a home for disturbed adolescents who had attended a workshop we presented for their staff. He is six feet three, looks like a linebacker, yet is a very grounded, humble, and genuine person. During our training I was impressed by his practical insights about how to heal the lives of wounded boys.

Dave, another single man, is a stockbroker, divorced, with an avid interest in mountaineering and other out-on-the-edge sports. He had attended one of Aaron's workshops for men and was interested in the possibility of bringing this material into his highly competitive work environment. Both these men had told us in our preinterviews with them that they were frustrated with their relationships with women and were hoping to learn more about how to get along with them during our encounters. This view was also held by Gloria and several other women who were increasingly perplexed about how to relate to men.

I led the tired, dusty crew along the trail on the edge of the creek. After brief introductions, everyone set about the task of unpacking, pitching tents, and beginning preparations for sharing our first meal together. Then Aaron and I went back to the parking area to wait for the others.

Doris arrived on her own toward sundown. As she climbed out of her car, she had a look of awe. "It's beautiful here," she said. "It feels so good to be out of the city." Doris, a single woman in her early fifties, is the director of a family service agency. She had been fascinated by the differences between women and men for many years and had been involved in one of my empowerment workshops for women.

Doris was followed, after dark, by our last couple, Alan and Merle. They were obviously not happy campers. Merle spotted the three of us sitting at the battered picnic bench, huddled around our Coleman lantern. As Merle stepped out of the car, we could hear her exclaim to Alan, "See, I told you this was the right road. We would have been here three hours ago if you had just listened to me and asked for directions at the ranger station. But no," she said sarcastically, "you had to be the great Pathfinder."

"It's all right, really," I said, ambling over to the car. "We're just glad you made it," I added as Alan climbed out, looking tense. We led these last arrivals up the creek by flashlight to the camp, which by now had a cheery fire going. Larry was gleefully in self appointed charge of preparations for a communal meal.

We introduced everyone informally. With no other agenda but to let everyone settle down, we ate and chatted by the fire. Aaron looked around at our crew and asked jokingly, "Well, are you all ready for this?" This was met by various grunts and some laughter. "I don't know," said Marie, "but you couldn't have picked a prettier setting for this gathering." As we ate, we relaxed and talked about our backgrounds and why we had decided to join this group. We were beginning the process of making connections that would help us in the deep work that we hoped to do together in the days ahead.

It was hard, however, for Aaron and me as the trip leaders to relax completely. We were still short one member, Susan. Throughout the evening we took turns hiking back to the parking area, but to no avail. Susan did not arrive. Finally everyone was comfortably settled for the night, and we decided to give up. We zipped our sleeping bags together, and after briefly admiring the stars and successfully locating the polestar and a few other constellations, kissed each other good night and were instantly asleep.

Dawn arrived. A quick hike by Aaron to the parking area revealed that Susan, a thirty-two-year-old manager in a large corporation, who had previously attended one of my workshops for women, had not come in during the night. I had talked to her the day before and everything seemed fine. What should we do? we wondered. Our first group decision was at hand. We gathered on the gravel bench, sat in a circle, and discussed it. Aaron suggested that one of us drive to the Klamath National Forest Service headquarters and leave a note, while he drove to Happy Camp to call her to find out what had happened. This would take three hours round trip. It would mean that we would be starting out for the second camp in the heat of the day. Some of the group felt that we should just go on without her.

"She's already a day late," said Dave.

"Let's not let it hang us up any longer," said Alan.

Lisa then said, "Hey, what's the hurry guys? We're short one lady and I think we should just wait here until we figure out what happened to her."

Already some differences were apparent in the group. Some women had an investment in trying to keep the group together, while some men were attached to keeping to the agenda. We had five or six uphill miles to hike that day to get to the second camp. The men felt it was time to go. The sentiment was: she blew it, for whatever reason, and it wasn't fair for the rest of us to be hung up on her account.

Fortunately, we did not have to resolve this particular conflict. (Many others lay ahead, however, as we would soon discover.) While we were still sitting on the beach, Susan wandered into camp.

"There you are," she cried with relief. "Why weren't you in the parking area like we agreed?" she asked accusingly. "I was beginning to think you'd abandoned me or something."

She explained that she had taken off from home without the map we had sent out to everyone. She had driven up to three different trailheads in search of us the day before. She finally arrived at the designated campground late in the night. One of the cowboys, awakened by her, assured Susan that this was in fact the base for Blue Water Creek trail. Aaron had missed her in his dawn perusal of the campground. It never even occurred to him that she would be camped with the cowboys. Later in the morning, when none of us showed up to meet her, the cowboys pointed her upstream in the direction they had seen us take the day before.

"They were awfully nice," she told us. "They fed me some dinner and let me camp by their fire. And two of them are super cute," she added with a playful leer and a chuckle.

Gloria then commented snidely, "Yeah, cute macho jerks if you ask me." A few of the men winced at this comment, but nothing was said in response. It sort of lay in the air for a while like a sour smell. Aaron then called the group together for our first meeting.

Our Hopes and Fears

All together at last, we sat in the first of many circles and officially began our quest. Liz and I spoke about the intent of the trip and some of the ground rules that we thought would help to make it safe for everyone. We told them:

1. There's no such thing as an accident. People generally get injured because they, or others, have been careless. So we all need to make a commitment not to get hurt on this trip, and not to hurt each other.

2. We want everyone to stay together unless we agree otherwise. No one should run too far ahead of the group, and we'll keep a pace that doesn't cause anyone to lag too far behind.

3. We will respect one another's personal boundaries in all matters.

4. Each member needs to be responsible for his or her own physical and emotional well-being and should look out for the safety and comfort of others as well.

I asked if anyone disagreed with these ground rules. There was no dissent, so we went on. Liz picked up a gray stone, rounded smooth by the stream's waters. With a white stone, she chalked upon it the universal symbol, used to represent women and men. We asked each person to name his or her hopes and fears about the trip, as a more intimate introduction to the group. I asked that we respect whoever holds the "talking stone" by listening without interrupting. "We've found it best to try not to rehearse what you are going to say when it's your turn. Rather, we suggest that everyone just pay attention to each speaker as it goes around the circle."

Liz began. "I feel honored to be here with all of you. This work is the realization of a lifelong dream for me. I have really big hopes for this trip. I'd like to come away from our time together with a deeper understanding about men. And I'd like to find out more of what it means to be an authentic woman in community with other women as well as with men. I also hope that we can build a safe container together, where we can tell the real truth to each other. And I know that the truth can be uncomfortable and scary sometimes. I guess that's my greatest fear, that I'll be confronted with something that I don't want to hear."

She passed the talking stone to Larry on her left. He held the stone thoughtfully for a moment and said, "I've been looking forward to this trip for months. Marie and I have had many talks, arguments, and even a few pretty hairy fights about our roles in our relationship, and the roles of women and men in general. In many ways, we're an unconventional couple. She makes more money than me and I do more home care. But I don't feel we've figured it out any better than any other couple."

"I'm interested to hear about how others are working stuff out and my hope is that we will all have a good time together while we're at it. My fear is that Marie will bond with all the women, as she usually does, and that I'll feel a little like the odd man out with most of the men." He glanced over at me as if he were looking for some affirmation that he would not be abandoned by the men. I offered him a reassuring nod.

Marie, who was sitting to the left of her husband Larry, spoke next. "Well, I'm already having a great time. I love this little creek and I'm looking forward to getting to know the group better. These days I'm struggling with a lot of issues around being a working mother. In the last few years our daughters seem a lot closer to their dad than to me. I also feel that I'm losing touch with my femininity in some way. I'm getting more brittle at work. I'm pissed off much of the time. I don't know, I guess mostly what I'm hoping for out of this week is some personal renewal and healing"

"The gender stuff is genuinely interesting to me but I also want lots of time to play and rest. That brings me to my fear: my fear is that everything will be too structured. My whole life is already way too structured. So I want to have the freedom to sort of drift in and out of the group as need be and to not feel that I have to be focused all the time."

"My sentiments exactly," said Doris as Marie passed the stone to her. "I want to learn more about the dance between women and men and I want to play and rest and soak up some of the beauty that we've placed ourselves in. I'm also hoping to learn things which will be useful in my social services work with women and men. My main fear is that I won't be able to keep up with the hiking. I like moving through nature at a slow, savoring pace. I'm afraid I'll be an anchor at times and that will breed resentment from men who want to hike faster."

"Why do you think it will be the men?" interrupted Susan. Little did we know she was an accomplished long-distance runner and competition cyclist who, as we would discover, could easily hike every single one of us into the ground.

"Well, that's just been my experience in the past," Doris replied. "In any case, like Marie here, I need the freedom to be able to just move at my own pace."

Alan looked uncomfortable as the stone was passed to him. "`I'm not sure what to say," he said hesitantly. "Merle basically talked me into this trip. Her therapist thought it would be a good idea for us. I'm not so sure. I used to be in the Boy Scouts when I was a kid, though, and those were some of the happiest times of my life. So at least I know I have the capacity to have fun in the woods. Fears? I don't know. Maybe spending too much time sitting around yakking about heavy stuff. I'm eager to get on the trail now."

As he passed the stone to Merle, she said nervously, "I hope that Alan and I can gain some insight into some of the problems that come up in our relationship. And I hope this trip will help Alan to calm down a little. He really needs a vacation. He works so hard all the time. So I hope this week will help restore his spirit. My fear," she said, giving Alan a darting glance, "is that Alan will be unhappy all week and that will make the whole time miserable for me as well."

I noticed that Merle didn't say much about herself, what she wanted, hoped for, or feared. Her relationship with Alan seemed to fill the whole focus of her attention. After she spoke there was an awkward silence. This was perhaps a little more deeply personal than some people expected at the outset. But then Dave broke the ice by vigorously exclaiming:

"I'm praying for fish. If there's one thing I fear about this week it's that I won't catch any." Several people laughed and a few acknowledged their encouragement for Dave's aspirations. He then passed the stone to Andy who commented:

"I've been thinking a lot about this trip over the last few weeks. One thing that's become real clear to me, from working with adolescent boys and girls, is that men and women are really different. I hope to learn more about that and I have a lot of questions that I want to ask women. So I'm hoping that there will be a real opportunity for us to have some honest talk. What I fear is that if I'm really given the opportunity to explore the truth between women and men I'll be afraid to speak honestly about the issues that disturb me the most. I'm afraid I'll just chicken out."

Gloria's turn was next. As she took the stone and looked around the circle, she said, "I feel more fear than anything else. The only groups I've been in for many years now have only had women in them. Quite honestly, I don't have much trust or respect for men anymore. It seems like you guys are ruining everything. But I trust Liz and am intrigued by the vision she is trying to create with Aaron. So . . . I'm here."

I glanced at Jerry, curious to see how he reacted to Gloria's comment. I was surprised to see no visible response. Although Liz and I are encountering more couples like them--- outspoken women with slightly apologetic men---I wondered what was he doing with a woman who disliked men, and for that matter, how she could be in relationship with one, feeling the way that she did about men as a group.

Gloria handed the stone to Jerry, who said, "I'm really glad to be sitting here on the earth. I want to learn more about what women want and I hope that the men will respect the women and listen to what they have to say. My fears? I guess I'm afraid of people's anger getting out of hand, especially the men."

He handed the stone on to Joel, who looked at him and said, "Well, I'm more afraid of the women's anger than the men's. I know when my wife, Lisa, gets pissed off, she can totally waste me with her words. So I can imagine all of you . . ." He trailed off, looking around at the women. "But I hope that we can have a good adventure together that gives birth to a better understanding between men and women."'

Lisa followed. Looking thoughtful, she commented, "Wow, this rock is getting hot. There's a lot of energy in this group. I feel excited and scared at the same time. I haven't done anything like this in a long time. Over the last decade my life has been all about my career and Joel's career and taking care of our son in between. I hardly have any time for myself. And we don't have time for each other," she said, looking fondly at Joel.

"I feel like men and women really need to start working together to make some big changes in the world. We both work and Gabe goes to child care. It's such a push all the time. I guess what I need from this trip is to slow down and have time to be with myself and with you, Joel."

Susan took the stone next. I remembered Liz telling me that she was kind of a wild woman, who had a good heart but was unpredictable at times. As Susan fondled the stone, she looked around at the other members of our circle, meeting each person's eyes before she moved on. "I'm really interested in all of you. Hearing you all speak, I relate to a lot of what's already been said. I guess I'm here because I feel confused about my relationships with men right now. I love men, but every one of my relationships seems to end up with a lot of hurt, frustration, and blame."

"For a long time I always thought it was the man's fault. Now I'm not so sure. I see myself and other women doing some pretty shitty things too. I hope I can learn something new on this trip that I can use in my personal life. My fear is that we might all just be hopelessly and eternally stuck in the war. How depressing."

I was the last to speak. "My hope is that we will work the edge of our truth together without backing off. I also hope that we will dive deeply into the pleasure of our shared mysteries. That is, I hope that we won't try to figure everything out but rather give room for some of the deeper feelings within us to find some path to expression. Some of my fears are that my leadership will be inadequate to the task, my weak ankle will give out, and my sleeping bag will get wet."

With some of our hopes and fears now out in the open, we gathered up our gear. We headed up Blue Water Creek trail, toward the clearing we hoped to occupy for our second camp and the first of several encounters we had planned between the women and the men.

We were off to a good start. There were many common interests and good intentions in the group. There was clearly some tension as well. More than was visible on the surface, apparently. We were to find that fireworks awaited us at second camp.

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