IV. Liberation and Illumination

KIMBERLEE thought, If someone had asked me beforehand, “What do you think life will be like if you give up the right to castrate men forever?” I would never have picked the adjectives that come to mind only one day later: Easier, less exhausting, more fun, FREE!

Smiling, she scratched Lancelot under his chin. Then she turned to her closet with a frown. All of a sudden, her wardrobe didn’t suit her. Pun not intended, she thought, as she stared at two and three piece suits in every shade of black, brown and navy. Her clothes felt too constraining, too stiff, too dull. Too masculine, she thought. Before, the structured textiles had made her feel safe and professional; now she felt restricted and uncomfortable. Boxed in. Her clothing didn’t match the sense of freedom and feminine power she’d experienced since Wednesday evening.

She chuckled as she remembered the looks of consternation on the faces of her female co-workers her first day in the office “post vow.” The guys had been keyboard-racing again, an activity that normally brought a full round of rolled eyes and disparaging remarks. Kimberlee had fully participated in the ridicule, in the past. But she was off man-patrol duty. It was no longer her job to monitor discipline and maintain decorum according to the standards of the Perfect Person. She’d retired. Permanently.

It seemed harmless enough when she’d joked lightly, “Who’s winning? Are you taking bets? Can I get in?”

The men had looked up in awe, pausing mid-keystroke as if Lady Godiva had ridden through, naked on her white horse. The women were incredulous. As if she had betrayed them. Not only them — the whole Sisterhood.

The men never did articulate a response. She smiled and returned to her office, suppressing a fit of giggles until she closed the door.

An hour later, one of the younger processors stuck his head in, asking if she wanted a soda from the machine. It was her turn to be surprised. Suddenly, she thought, I always address them as merely “You men” and “Ladies.” That’s objectifying, isn’t it? I’ll have to watch that.

“Umm, thank you, John. I’m fine though.” She declined with a smile. He withdrew hastily, leaving her trying to discern the meaning of his offer.

By the end of the day, Gladys, Kesha, Chelsey, Mary Kay and Fawn were all watching her with open concern. She merely smiled and behaved as if nothing was amiss. John, Hector, Justin and Abrahim, on the other hand, seem to be competing for which one could do the most for her.

At first, she gently refused their offers of drinks, snacks, copy machine runs, et cetera. But it didn’t take long to notice a minor version of the crestfallen look. They were truly disappointed when she declined. Having given up the right to emasculate them, she decided she’d better find things she could say “yes” to. And it became clear: the more difficult the task, or the more urgently she needed it, the happier they seemed to be.

Baffling. What if there’s a good reason for this? she thought. And couldn’t wait to get back to Claudia and Karen.

Rubbing Lancelot’s stomach and studying her closet, Kimberlee made a sudden decision to go shopping. As she got ready to leave her condo, her elation was marred momentarily by the thought, How am I ever going to explain this to Melissa?

KAREN drove home from Claudia’s house Thursday evening tired but happy. Bursting with news, she’d dropped in after school. Claudia had laughed at the way Karen described life after “Giving It Up.”

First, Karen had explained the past: “It’s as if the boys handed me weapons. They’re late or they’re loud or they’re not paying attention. They put the weapon right in my hand. Before, I used it. I fired the gun; I swung out with the club; I launched the missile. Mostly with blatant disapproval and verbal reprimands. But sometimes with consequences that hit them where it hurt. Spending recess inside, cleaning up after others. Stuff like that.”

Karen had smiled, “All day today, I saw the weapon as one of them handed it to me. I felt it in my hand, the weight of it. The damage it could wreak. I consciously set it down. I’ve got a mental pile. My own little armory. But I’m not using them. You’d

think my classroom would be a zoo by now. It’s not. The boys were more cooperative and attentive than ever. They even offered to do things for me.”

She had shaken her head and Claudia had laughed and smiled and hugged her. Arriving home, Karen found the garage door open and the trash overflowing, as

usual. She glanced into Mike’s office and saw the aging piles. Her shoulders instantly grew tired with the weight of the projectiles and impalers being shoved into her hands. Coming around the corner, she saw Mike on the couch, watching TV. He looked up at her expectantly. For once, she saw the yearning in his face. And the fear. As if he might be in trouble.

What if I tried the same thing at home? she thought. “One second, Honey,” she called, moving to the hall closet. As she hung up her

sweater, she imagined stacking the weapons away too. Let them go …. Instantly feeling light and happy, she scampered over to Mike and plopped on the

couch next to him. “Watcha doing?” she asked cheerfully. Within a few minutes, along with the pile of discarded weapons, she had a pile of

another sort: Their clothes on the living room floor. Later, she wrote in her journal: Oh my gosh. I never knew this was possible. Mike forgot to take out the trash, as usual. He handed me the gun to shoot him. Like a million times before. Remembering my vow, I set it aside, I let it go. I felt no loss of power. Rather, joy and exhilaration! What an extraordinary evening. I’d still like him to close the garage door, and take out the trash, though. How do I get that without emasculation? Keep breathing. Claudia promised.

JACK parked his Porsche carefully, got out and locked the door. Looking back at the 1973 Carrera RS, he admired the still-glossy, original red paint and irresistible curves. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Made out of metal, that is. He’d wanted one since he was a little kid. It had been his first car-crush and it had taken him more than thirty years to fulfill it. Women usually made fun of him but men knew exactly what it meant: Victory.

Waiting for the elevator, he threw away his signature toothpick. Once inside, he re-tucked his shirt and straightened his collar. He checked his hair in the stainless steel panel. It was hopeless. The wavy salt-and-pepper mass was uncontrollable.

Stepping into the insurance company office, he did his best to feign nonchalance. The processors were glued to their screens and paperwork. He was moving casually towards Raul’s office when he ran smack into Kimberlee.

At first he didn’t recognize her. He had to step back and look again. She still wore only a trace of makeup, as he preferred, but her face was totally different. Soft, he

thought. Lovely. The scowl was gone, her jaw had relaxed and her dazzling blue eyes were wide and open. The color in her cheeks rose in the most charming way.

“Hi, Jack,” she said and he noticed the pleasantly deep timbre of her voice. Has she ever spoken to me before?

“Hi,” was all he could muster in response. “Okay, well, see ya,” she said and walked towards her office. Watching her go, he

noticed her narrow waist, her shapely legs and the fabric swinging above them, draped over her luscious full hips. She’s got a dress on!

As Jack stumbled into a chair, Raul took one look at him and burst out laughing. Jack exclaimed, “She’s wearing a dress!” His friend smiled, “Yes, I noticed.” “What’s happening to her?!” “I don’t know,” Raul replied. “But I’m determined to ask her about it.” “Will you tell me what she says?” Jack practically pleaded and felt foolish. “Don’t worry, ol’ buddy. I’ll do some recon for you,” Raul assured him, then shook

his head. “What?” Jack demanded. “I can’t make heads nor tails of it. She’s gentler, more feminine — and more

effective. Production is higher than ever. At least out of the men. The women are completely rattled.”

“How so?” Raul answered with a chuckle. “Because she hasn’t taken the nuts off a single guy

for two days. She hasn’t even participated in the Castration Club events.” “The castration club events?” Jack took the bait. Raul responded with a shrug, “You know, when a bunch of women gang up on a

man and come down hard. Usually when the guy is having fun or celebrating a win. I call it ‘the castration club.’ Its members can’t seem to tolerate testosterone.”

Nodding, Jack replied, “I know what you’re talking about. I see it all the time.” He brightened, “You think maybe Kimberlee quit the club?”

He had a thought that made him feel sick. “Or did she get a new boyfriend? You know how women look when they’re in love ….”

Jack felt relieved when Raul shook his head. “I don’t think so,” his friend offered. “She hasn’t been working any less and you’re the only hound sniffing around here lately.”

CLAUDIA hummed cheerfully as she put together a tray with brownies, cream, sugar and honey. The coffee was percolating and the water was almost to a boil. She expected Karen and Kimberlee to arrive any moment and was glad they were meeting so soon after they had taken the vow.

This is going to be fun, she thought. The hardest part is over, Missy. She had made some notes to herself about the information she planned to cover

since her students had lain down their swords. Now they can receive the magic, she thought, smiling. She added her notes and a blank piece of paper to the tray.

Her first delight was the glow in both their faces. Like a ripening of feminine beauty, she mused. Burt saw it too and winked at her before he went off to his shop, whistling Popeye the Sailor Man.

Harkening back to his days in the Navy, and the way being a sailor would always be part of his identity, that song was one way she could tell he felt empowered. Like Popeye and a can of spinach. No doubt, the fact that he had contributed to their transformation made his joy even more potent. Always the Provider, Claudia thought.

As they settled into Burt’s chairs, Claudia continued to note the changes in each woman’s appearance. Kimberlee’s lips were no longer thin and tight; her jaw had lost its hard edge; the crease between her eyebrows had almost disappeared. Most of all, her eyes had softened, leaving only the lovely blue without the brittle, piercing quality. Karen’s beauty was transformed as well. It showed the most in the radiant smoothness of her high-boned cheeks, the sparkle in her golden-brown eyes, and the warm, easy smile on her full lips.

“We have finally arrived at ‘the Language of Heroes,’” Claudia began. “These are the words and understanding women must master to communicate effectively with men.

Kimberlee rubbed her hands together with an anticipatory smile, and Karen picked up her pen in readiness over a blank sheet of paper.

“Claudia,” Kimberlee interjected, “It’s taken us five sessions to get to this point. How long do you think it will take to learn the Language of Heroes?”

Claudia sipped her tea while she mentally reviewed her plan. She had five different words, each with its own context and particular challenges, plus she had promised to address Mike and Karen’s fertility conflict. That particular topic could be addressed after the first word of the Hero Language, if they were on track. But it all depended upon her students.

“If it were purely a matter of conveying information, we could accomplish what I have in mind in five more sessions,” she replied.

Karen laughed knowingly. “But it’s never merely a matter of giving us the information. Is it? When you taught me the Stages of Development, you anticipated some of the difficulties I would have with the material. It was uncanny. Have you looked into your crystal ball to predict our reactions to the Language of Heroes?”

Claudia smiled gently, “As you know, I have not a crystal ball. But I am aware of your lives and histories. Based upon that, I would predict that your biggest challenge is going to be allowing men to express their naturally generous, giving natures.”

“Why would we be against that?” Kimberlee asked. “Think about it. If you are going to allow men to be generous … what will you have

to become proficient in?” Kimberlee blushed, “Oh, dear. I’ve already encountered that. Ever since I was

‘declawed’ Wednesday night, the men at the office have been competing with each other in a whole new way — to see who can do the most for me. I’ve discovered I am completely lousy at letting men do anything for me.”

“Only men?” Claudia inquired. “Is it any easier letting women provide for you?” She waited while the young woman thought about her question. The crease

between her brows deepened momentarily.

“Good point,” Kimberlee responded. “I’m lousy at letting anyone take care of me. It doesn’t matter whether they’re male or female.”

“Don’t feel too bad,” Karen added. “I have as much trouble receiving, even from children. I found that out last year when I couldn’t accept potato chips from a second-grader.”

Claudia resisted the urge to reach out and pat both their hands. Sometimes discomfort was useful. Receiving will be their biggest hurdle, she thought. It will force them to face many of their beliefs about self-sufficiency, independence, worth and power.

“Learning to allow someone to contribute to you is one of the biggest challenges you will face. I call it ‘receiving’ for short.” Claudia asserted, “As you learn to speak the Language of Heroes, and use the words appropriately, you will have to question many of your assumptions about your value and other people’s motivations.”

She watched them closely as she concluded, “Learning to be a brilliant, gracious receiver, in the face of everything you think it means, will require a series of transformations.”

Karen’s eyes twinkled. “I can tell by the phrase, ‘everything you think it means,’ that we’re in for some surprises. This should be interesting.”

Claudia smiled. “I am glad you’re excited by the challenge instead of put off by it. Kimberlee, how about you?”

Even though this phase of their learning should be less painful than giving up a lifetime of emasculating men, Claudia felt it was necessary to get permission once again. Permission to change her granddaughter’s life even more. She waited patiently while Kimberlee considered her question.

After a few moments, Kimberlee replied, “When I gave up emasculating men, I thought that as I became neutral, instead of combative, they would hopefully do the same.”

She continued, her voice showing some distress, “Not in a million lifetimes could I have predicted that their attitudes and behaviors would change so dramatically. They haven’t become neutral. They’ve become proactively supportive. How can that be?”

Claudia’s heart sang. Here was her opening. She smiled, “Because at the heart of a man is a Provider.”

“A provider?” Kimberlee’s voice rose an octave. “Yes, Kimberlee, a Provider. One who provides. One who furnishes. One who

ensures the well-being of others,” Claudia recited by memory from the dictionary. Karen looked perplexed. “Yes?” Claudia prompted. Karen fidgeted. “Um … not to be contrary, but … if men are Providers, how come

they do so little?” Claudia smiled to herself and pulled the blank piece of paper from the tray. She

wrote a few words in large letters. When she was done, she turned the paper around in front of the two women. She waited while they read:

To a man NOTHING

is worth doing

Kimberlee looked puzzled. Karen gasped and exclaimed, “It’s hopeless. Mike’s

never going to help with the housework.” “Not as long as it is housework, he will not,” Claudia replied seriously. “What else could it be?” Karen asked, mystified. Claudia smiled at both of them. “To understand what I want to teach you today,

you have got to catch yourself thinking from the misconception that men are misbehaving women. They are not. They do not think like us, nor feel like us — and they are not motivated by the same things.”

“Okay … what are we missing?” Kimberlee asked. “Karen spoke to you about men being ‘Single Focused,’ yes?” Claudia asked. When both women nodded their heads, Claudia continued. “Did she tell you what

they are single focused on?” Both women shook their heads. Karen added, “I’m not sure you ever told me. If

you did, I don’t remember.” Claudia smiled, “I may have mentioned it but not to worry either way. This is a

topic that cannot be revisited too often.” She took a sip of her tea and continued, “The makeup of the masculine brain

causes it to focus on one result. It commits itself to the accomplishment of that result, and screens out everything that is irrelevant to that result. This is virtually the opposite of the feminine brain.”

Claudia paused and Kimberlee jumped in. “How does the feminine brain work? And why are you saying ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ instead of ‘male’ and ‘female?’”

“I am glad you noticed,” Claudia replied. “I am saying ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ because these characteristics are caused by testosterone and estrogen rather than by gender. While men tend to be more masculine and women more feminine, that is not always the case. Women can be single focused. It may wear them out, though, since they naturally have a fraction of the testosterone men have.”

“Can you say more about that?” Kimberlee asked. “I could,” Claudia said, glancing at Karen, “but Karen would burst!” Karen laughed halfheartedly. “You’re right, Claudia. Even though I would love to

know more about that, I’m desperately in need of an answer to my original concern.” Claudia patted her hand. “And you will have it my dear. Today.” She resumed,

“The point for now is that estrogen creates a different configuration in the brain. This configuration causes what we call ‘Diffuse Awareness.’ I said it was virtually the opposite of ‘single focus’ because the feminine brain does not focus at all. Rather, the feminine consciousness is spread in every direction.”

Karen exclaimed, “What a minute! Wait a minute! I think I’m getting it ….” Claudia savored Karen’s enthusiasm. It was breakthrough moments like this that

made these sessions fun and fulfilling for her. While these couple of hours felt like an entire day, ultimately they left her tired but satisfied.

“Yes, Karen?” Karen talked excitedly, “I finally put those two together: the single focus on one

result — screening out irrelevancies — and the consciousness spread in every direction. Is this why I’m profoundly aware of, and annoyed by, the socks on the floor while Mike steps over them again and again?”

KIMBERLEE was trying to relate to Karen’s experience. If there were stockings on the floor at her condo, she’d left them there. Being kind of a neatnik, that only happened when she was exhausted. Like during the month-end circus to get policies issued. She picked up the messes in her condo the following day, even as she dragged her depleted body around.

She didn’t have a “Mike” at home to apply this to. But she had plenty of men at work to think about. Men with piles and piles of paper on their desks. And worse, papers spread around without any recognizable form of organization.

And maybe by understanding this, I could help Melissa, she thought. She tuned in as Claudia responded to Karen. “Yes, exactly Karen. The socks are

irrelevant to whatever Mike has committed himself to. Whatever he is focused on. It takes no effort for him to screen them out. He is not even consciously doing it. His brain takes care of that. The feminine brain, however, is taxed by the effort to screen out socks on the floor, crooked pillows, grungy counters and anything ugly. If a woman has to live in a mess, you will find her engrossed in a book or a movie in order to find some peace.”

That was not the word Kimberlee expected. “Peace from what?” she asked. Claudia chuckled. “Peace from all the racket. Every one of those things is ‘talking’

to her. Demanding that she do something about them. Her awareness makes a disorderly environment ‘loud’ and disruptive. It is why a woman ‘multitasks.’ Because the things in her environment are competing for her attention. Demanding that she attend to them. Literally, nagging her. And not only things. She is aware of the mental, physical and emotional states of all the people around her as well.”

A light bulb went on for Kimberlee. It wasn’t the actual noise that compelled her to close her office door and shut out the world. It was her awareness of the mental and emotional states of the men and women in the processing pit.

She blurted, “Is that why a frustrated man seems to be yelling at you even when he’s silent?”

Claudia turned to her with a nod. “And why a focused man can be completely unaware of a woman’s frustration.”

Karen almost choked on her coffee. “I thought he was ignoring me!” Claudia chuckled, “Almost never my dear. He would have to focus on that and be

doing nothing else.” Kimberlee’s contemplation of that remark was interrupted as Claudia continued.

“The point for this discussion is that diffuse awareness makes every task worth doing. Even the smallest thing, like picking up socks, quiets something in her environment. Something that is condemning her for allowing it to exist imperfectly.”

Karen interjected, “But not for a man! Since his brain screens out everything irrelevant to the result he’s focused on, something is only worth doing if it’s part of his result. Is that right?”

“Exactly, again, Karen. Well done. Unless a particular task is required to accomplish the result, it is not worthy of his attention.”

“Then, how do you have a household task become part of a result for a man?” Karen asked.

Kimberlee smiled. She admired the older woman’s tenacity but pitied her frustration.

Claudia seemed pleased, though. “You have to recognize the role you play in his results,” she stated plainly.

“The role I play? You mean, like, reminding him?” Karen asked. Claudia shook her head. “No, dear. The role you play is even more important than

that. You are the person for whom he most wants to be, and needs to be, a hero. This means you are the center of his results. You are the reason for his results.” Claudia sighed, “Men play for points. And it is your points that he wants the most. Not letting him earn them is yet another way women Frog Farm.”

Karen shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said hopelessly. “Let me put it this way,” Claudia responded kindly. “Again, men are Providers.

They do not care about getting something done for the sake of it being done. That is what I mean by ‘nothing is worth doing.’ Here ….”

Kimberlee watched as Claudia took back the piece of paper. She wrote on it and turned it around again. Now it said:

To a man NOTHING

is worth doing

But Much is worth

PROVIDING As they looked at the paper, Claudia explained, “They want to accomplish

something for the impact that it has. Specifically, the impact on you. How will this make your life better? Easier? More fun? More satisfying? In other words, what will it ‘Provide?’”

KAREN flashed back to the interaction she’d had with Mike about taking out the trash. He’d asked, bewildered, “Would that impress you?” She could see now that he was asking if taking out the trash would provide something that mattered to her. Of course it would. She thought that was obvious.

“Claudia,” said Karen, “If I’m getting this right, you’re saying that Mike doesn’t remember to take out the trash because to him it’s merely a task with no impact. Even with all the times I’ve asked him, he doesn’t know that it matters to me?”

“Have you ever told him what taking out the trash would provide for you?” Claudia asked.

Karen thought about it. “Not in so many words, no.” “How about in exactly those words?”

Karen shook her head. “No. I can’t remember ever using the word ‘provide.’” Suddenly she got it, “That’s the first word of the Hero Language!” Karen was rewarded with a warm smile and a nod. Claudia looked at both of them

intently. “Since providing is at the heart of a man, the word ‘provide’ resonates with who they are at their core. Everything they focus on is in order to provide something for someone. And when they do, to some extent, they become a hero.”

BURT was engaged in his new favorite pastime: watching the exchange of smiles, nods and looks of consternation that passed between the three women. It had become part of his new Transition Ritual. After he completed one part of his project, he paused to watch the gathering in the garden. Then he focused on the next piece with new inspiration.

His project required materials he didn’t have. He needed to incorporate several metal hinges and fixtures on each item. He knew of a store that specialized in unique hardware. He hoped they had the pieces to make his creations special for the young ladies.

As he made his way toward the house, he was irresistibly drawn to the garden. You never know when they might need something. Approaching the table, he saw a paper partially covered by Kimberlee’s hand. He recognized Claudia’s precise writing and read:

To a man NOTHING

is worth doing

He smiled and said, “That’s for darn sure. We even get together to do nothing.” The ladies looked up at him in surprise. Comprehension quickly dawned on

Claudia’s face and she laughed. “What am I missing?” Kimberlee asked. Claudia looked up at Burt and winked. “Maybe you should explain, love.” Burt thought for a moment. “Men are almost always up to something. We produce

one thing and then another. It could be a big deal; it could be a nap. But we’ve dedicated ourselves to making that one thing happen.”

He could tell by the nods that the women understood what he was talking about. He happily continued, “When someone asks, ‘What’re you doing?’ and the answer is, ‘Nothing,’ it doesn’t mean that we’re literally doing nothing. That would be impossible. It means that we haven’t committed ourselves to a result. We’re not having an impact right at that moment. We’re not providing anything.”

Kimberlee’s face lit up and Burt’s heart skipped a beat. She’d had that impact on him as an inquisitive child. He was happy to see it could still happen.

“Yes, Kimberlee?” Claudia asked. Kimberlee smiled. “Granddad’s description of ‘nothing’ reminds me of ‘puttering’

and how I love to do that. It’s been too long.”

“What’s puttering?” Burt asked. “Grandmother just taught us about Diffuse Awareness — where the feminine brain

notices everything all the time,” Kimberlee began. “Good Lord, that must be awful!” Burt exclaimed. All three women laughed. “We’re used to it,” Kimberlee replied. “But puttering is

a kind of vacation from multitasking with a deadline. Instead, I can wander around my condo and do anything that appeals to me.”

Burt cocked his head to the side. “That must be why your grandmother seems happy when she’s puttering around her garden with nothing in particular to accomplish.”

Claudia smiled at him. “There’s that word again: ‘Nothing.’ I think both men and women benefit from doing nothing.”

Burt grinned. “Like you wrote, ‘Nothing is worth doing!’” Kimberlee moved her hand and Burt read the rest:

But Much is worth

PROVIDING

Burt rocked back on his feet and his left hand went to his upper chest. He said emphatically, “Everything is worth providing that means something to one of you.”

All three women were obviously affected by his reaction. He saw Claudia and Kimberlee give Karen meaningful looks. Karen sighed. “Perhaps you could help me with something, Burt.”

“Of course. What?” “I’ve been trying to get Mike to take out the trash for twenty years. He’ll

eventually do it but mostly he ‘forgets’ a lot. It drives me crazy. No matter how I nag him, he doesn’t do it.” Karen sighed again, “What am I missing here?”

Burt glanced at Claudia who smiled and nodded encouragement. He looked down at the paper and tapped it. “It’s all right here, Karen.”

“How so?” He explained patiently, “To a man, nothing is worth doing. In other words, there is

no task worthy of his undivided attention. Which is the only kind of attention he has.” He paused and noted they were listening attentively. “A man never does

something merely to get it done. It’s not how we’re made.” He added, “We are result-oriented and impact-oriented. Even if a younger man can’t articulate it, it’s always about the benefit, the upside, the difference it will make. In other words, what the result will provide for someone we care about.”

He continued, “We naturally prioritize. After a result that is time-sensitive, a man will prioritize by impact. He wants to make the biggest difference he can at the time. In fact, if you want to bring out the worst in a man, don’t let him have an impact. Don’t let him provide anything for you.”

He waited while Karen struggled. Finally, she said, “Claudia has said something similar. But what I don’t understand is why the impact of taking out the trash isn’t obvious to Mike. Every woman knows what a difference it makes … Oh!”

“Yes?” he prompted.

Karen laughed and looked at Claudia and Kimberlee. “I’m still doing it, aren’t I? Expecting a man to be like a woman.” She shook her head and looked up at Burt.

“For the sake of my thick head, Burt. Would you tell me what it’s like to take out the trash?” Karen asked.

Burt was mystified, but if this would provide something for Karen, he was glad to answer. “It’s not a big deal. Sometimes it’s messy or smelly. If I haven’t brought the cans back from the street there’s an extra step. But that has to be done anyway.”

“But how does it make you feel?” Karen persisted. Burt was stumped. “Feel? It doesn’t make me feel anything. Does it make you feel

something?”

KAREN burst out laughing. In relief, in embarrassment, in hope. Finally she could respond to Burt.

“Oh, Burt. You are priceless. Thank you very much.” “What did I do?” He asked and she realized he wanted to know exactly what he

had provided. “You gave me the missing link,” she said. “To answer your question, it’s all about

what it makes me feel. When the trash is overflowing, I feel hopeless that life is overflowing and I’m out of control. When I have to take it out myself, I feel dirty and unsupported and treated like I’m the maid. I feel unloved and I feel ugly.”

Burt’s eyes opened in awe. “Is that true for you, Claudia?” he asked his wife. Claudia chuckled, “It could make me feel something like that. Except I have not

had to take the trash out in half a century. Ever since I explained to you that when you take the trash out, it makes me feel like I have a partner in making the household work. All I have to do is tell you when it is time for it to go out, and appreciate you for providing that.”

Karen groaned, “Claudia, you’re saying that even when Burt understands what it provides for you — you still have to tell him when to take it out? Is this hopeless?”

Claudia patted Karen’s hand. “Karen, knowing what it will provide is what has Burt take it out immediately, or as soon as he has finished the result he is focused on. But I still have to tell him when it is ready. Then it enters the queue of results to produce next.”

She smiled up at Burt. “It is not that he does not notice the full trash. He merely notices it in the middle of another commitment. Unlike a woman, he will not interrupt himself to do it. His brain has screened it out as irrelevant in that moment.”

Karen turned to Burt again. “Is this true for every man? Do they all need to be told when to take the trash out?”

Burt scratched his cheek. “I don’t know, Karen. I only know that I need that. It speaks to what I call my ‘Action Command Center.’ Could I make a suggestion?”

Karen noticed that, like Claudia, Burt asked permission. “Of course!”

Burt responded softly, “You might try telling Mike what taking out the trash would provide for you. And ask him what he needs to take it out. He’s the expert on himself.”

Karen suddenly felt exhausted. She turned to Claudia, “Could we take a break? I feel like my head’s going to explode.”

She was surprised when Burt interjected, “Before I go, could I tell you one other thing that might help?” he asked. “Men are keenly aware of spending energy. We’ve got to get at least as much back from everything we do. Otherwise, we get worn out and worn down.”

He looked at her from under bushy eyebrows. “Take that bench out there in the garden,” he said, pointing. “I made it while you were learning about the Stages of Development. Finding someone like you was my idea. Claudia taking and using that idea, and appreciating me for it, gave me the oomph to create that bench.

“The reaction from the two of you inspired me to go on and make Kimberlee’s chair. And so on. Everything you appreciate gives Mike the energy to do something else for you. Your appreciation lets him know that he provided something worthwhile. That makes him want to — and able to — provide even more.”

Even in a state of overwhelm, Karen connected the dots, “Men play for points!” Burt grinned. “That’s one way to put it. And we’ll put the most energy in where

we win the most points. And where the points have the most value. As his wife, his chosen partner, your points mean more to him than anyone’s. As long as he’s winning them, he’ll be a happy, productive man. If you’re stingy with them, it doesn’t make him play harder. It prevents him from playing at all.”

KIMBERLEE welcomed the break. Her head was about to explode — the realizations were coming that fast. At first her thoughts were all about Melissa and Scott. I’ve never seen Melissa give Scott any points without taking more away with an “if only you did more of that” kind of remark.

Wandering around the garden, she nibbled on a brownie while her thoughts turned to her own life. The look on Burt’s face as he described “playing for points” reminded her that he’d been providing for her all her life. She suspected her girlish giggles counted for a lot as a child. But what about now? How does a woman give points in her platonic relationships? How can I show appreciation for my chair?

Raul’s face came to mind. He paid her well with a nice salary, bonuses and benefits. And she earned it by working hard and making her job her first priority. She came through for him, even when it was tough. But was that the extent of their relationship? Was it just a professional transaction? She thought of their talk about the future and the respect he had expressed. In that one conversation, he’d provided validation of all her efforts and a pathway for her ambitions to be fulfilled. She’d been more hopeful about her career ever since. He’d provided that as well. Should I thank him for that? What would giving Raul “points” look like?

Next she thought of Jack. Without knowing it, he’d provided the final encouragement to give up emasculating men. And that had changed her life. Frog

Farmer no more, she thought. Could I have done it without the comfort of him worrying about me? Without the validation of an attacker spontaneously becoming a protector? The thought that she should tell him made her feel queasy. Is there another way to thank him?

Lastly, her father’s face surfaced. It still had the power to catch her heart in her throat. Her mother had often bragged that she’d raised Kimberlee on her own, “and took nothing from the sperm-bag.”

Did my father disappear because there was nothing Myra would let him provide? Because he couldn’t get points from her and she wouldn’t let him earn points from me? Could my father provide anything for me now?

Thinking of her mother reminded her of the feminist movement and women’s liberation. All this talk about men being providers. Is that just sending us back to Ozzie and Harriet?

CLAUDIA smiled at both women as she settled back into her chair with a fresh cup of tea. “I know Burt and I have given you much to think about. But there are a few more things I need to tell you about ‘Providing’ before I send you out into your lives.” She was interrupted by Kimberlee clearing her throat. “Yes?” Claudia inquired.

“Um. Something isn’t sitting right for me …,” Kimberlee said. “Yes?” Claudia asked again, keeping her face open. I was wondering when an

objection would arise, she thought, satisfied. Kimberlee leaned forward, “This might be great for Karen, and married women

like her — no offense,” she broke off with an odd smile, “but I’ve got a good job that pays well. I’m proud of being able to support myself. Wasn’t the point of women’s liberation that we don’t have to depend upon men to provide for us? And cater to them so they will?”

“I am glad you brought this up,” said Claudia. “You are? Why?” “Your mother and I went around and around about this. Hopefully I can do a better

job for the two of you.” She paused. “But, first, are you open to another perspective?”

She waited while Kimberlee repositioned herself, leaning back and relaxing her shoulders. Then both women replied at the same time, “Okay ….” Their shared tone of skepticism caused them to laugh, relieving the tension.

“Okay, Claudia, change my world again,” Kimberlee said. Claudia sighed in relief, “That means a lot to me, Kimberlee. I will endeavor to

live up to your faith.” She sipped her tea and waded in. “I think the point of the feminist movement was

to establish men and women as equals. With equal opportunities, equal respect and equal appreciation for our contributions to each other and our society. Could we agree on that?”

Kimberlee and Karen nodded. “I think that’s a fair way to put it. I don’t think it has entirely been accomplished. But I agree on the objective,” Kimberlee stated.

“Thank you,” Claudia said, then ventured, “What if there is a world of difference between depending upon men to provide and allowing men to provide? Between the ability to do something yourself, and constantly needing to prove that ability?”

Kimberlee cocked her head to the side, curious. “What do you mean?” “Men are not compelled to provide for women because they think women are

unable to do for themselves. They respect and count on how capable we are. They simply want to provide. It gives men their purpose. What I am trying to say is … that if they already know how smart you are, how capable you are, how competent you are, maybe you do not have to prove it all the time by not letting them provide for you.”

She paused. “They do not provide because they think so little of us. They get such great satisfaction from providing because they think so much of us.”

“You mean I don’t need to compete?” Kimberlee’s voice squeaked. Claudia saw Karen’s eyes widen, “Yes, Karen?” “Just a second,” Karen said, as she quickly leafed back through her notes. “Yes,

there it is, under the long-term effects of emasculation: ‘Compete instead of Cherish.’” She sat back, stunned. “Are you saying, Claudia, that men provide for women because they cherish us? And by emasculating them, by proving we don’t need them to provide, we turn that into competition?”

Claudia sent up a silent prayer, thanking Heaven. “It is a vicious cycle. By competing with men, proving which of us can be the better provider, we interrupt their desire to provide for us. Worse yet, we dishonor their honoring of us. Because we do not honor ourselves.”

Claudia sighed, “Women in our society are constantly trying to impress men. Because they do not know that men are already well beyond being impressed. They adore us. And they try to be worthy of it by being great providers.”

She watched as Karen’s brow furrowed in thought, her face clouded. Then her beautiful complexion cleared and her eyes sparkled as she made a connection.

“Yes?” Claudia prompted. “And I imagine this is all because women don’t know the Language of Heroes. We

can’t see that men want to provide for us because we try to get them to do things the same way we would get a woman?”

Kimberlee groaned, “Through criticism and nagging! Because to us it’s obvious why everything needs to be done.”

Claudia smiled at them both, but kept watching Kimberlee closely. She knew that Myra’s influence, and indeed society’s influence, would not be overcome that easily. Kimberlee’s eyes squinted.

“I don’t mean to be difficult, Claudia, but isn’t the Language of Heroes just another way to cater to men?”

Perfect, Claudia thought. “That would depend upon what you mean by ‘cater.’ If you are travelling in Mexico and you ask where the bathroom is in Spanish, are you demeaning yourself by using the language spoken there? Or are you being effective by communicating in a way that connects?”

She was rewarded with Kimberlee’s laughter. “I guess if you need a bathroom, it’s just the smart thing to do!”

“We call it the partner thing to do,” Claudia replied. “Huh?” Karen asked.

Claudia looked from one to the other. “The Queen’s Code is about partnership. One of the biggest benefits of the feminist movement is the opportunity to be equal partners. But women will never truly be liberated, and free to be queens, until we are free of our misconceptions about our partners. Including the idea that we think the same, speak the same, and are motivated by the same things.”

“Wow,” Kimberlee concluded, “I guess we better get this providing thing down.” Karen laughed, “Yes. And I think you had more to tell us about that, Claudia?” “If you are ready to continue, I have your assignments,” Claudia replied, checking

with Kimberlee. Kimberlee nodded, “I may have more objections but if I can bring them up as they

come, I’m good for now.” Claudia reached over and squeezed Kimberlee’s arm. “Your objections are always

a contribution, dear. Please do not hesitate.” She waited until both women were once again poised above their notepads. “Understanding that men are ‘Providers’ rather than ‘Taskers’ requires that you

start paying attention to the specific benefits of anything you are asking from a man,” she began. “You have to put those benefits into words, always using the word ‘Provide.’”

She continued, “This is going to be your assignment: One, to notice what men are already giving you, or taking care of, and figure out what it provides; two, to stop before you ask for something and think about what it would provide and tell him that as part of your request. Lastly, after he has done what you ask, tell him what it actually provided. Do this with all men. Whether it be Mike, Raul, the boys at school, or Jack.” She concluded with a mischievous smile for Kimberlee.

“Also practice with men you don’t know. Service or repairmen for example,” she added. “Any questions?”

Karen held up her hand a moment and Claudia gladly waited while her notes caught up. When she was done, Karen asked, “How exactly do we figure out what something will provide?”

Claudia smiled. “I can give you a list of questions to ask yourself. But first I must tell you something else.”

Claudia cautioned, “Almost all men want to provide. But, for every man, there are specific things he can provide; things he cannot provide but wishes he could; and things he has no interest in providing. You will need to learn what these are for your men, and learn to not ask for what each of them cannot provide. Never allowing a man to provide is emasculating. Asking him to provide what you know he cannot is cruel.”

She looked from one to the other, “As one man put it, ‘Please don’t ask me for what I can’t provide. Ask for me for what I can, and I’ll give you all I’ve got.’”

KAREN switched to iced tea, having had enough coffee for one day. She settled into a small table at the café and began working on her notes. Once again, she thought in terms of flip-charts.

PROVIDERS Never forget men are PROVIDERS. It’s all about the difference an action makes. Men naturally prioritize by impact after urgency. Asking a man to DO something doesn’t speak to his “Action

Command Center.” Asking him to PROVIDE something does. Men Play for Points. Try being generous with points. Being stingy with points doesn’t

make them play harder! Questions to ask yourself to determine what something will provide:

o How will this make me feel? o What will I be able to be? Want to be? o What will I be able to do? Willing to do? o How will this change my life? o How will this change my experience of the situation/person?

Karen pondered these questions for a while, specifically about Mike taking out the

trash. She had told him a million times what not taking it out did to her. She’d never thought to turn it around and tell him what taking it out would provide. She wanted to be super-ready for their conversation when she got home.

The hardest part for her was taking responsibility for the fact that how she had communicated before didn’t work. It should have. If he loved me enough, it would have, she thought and caught herself in the old thinking and laughed. What if Mike is not a hairy misbehaving woman? What if he’s a Ferrari and I haven’t known where to put the key?

For the first time in many years, she was hopeful about — of all things — trash. She glanced again at the assignment:

Notice what men are already giving me and figure out what it provides. Before I ask for something from a man, think about what it would provide. Then tell him that as part of my request. After he has provided what I ask, tell him what it actually provided. Do this with all men this week.

Resolving to do the best job ever, she dug into her homework.

CLAUDIA was starving at the end of their lesson. Although she would have loved to have Burt rub her feet, she needed food more. Practicing what she preached, she

said, “Burt, your foot rubs renew me and reconnect me — to you. But right now, I’m hungry enough I could eat the flowers in my garden. And you know I would regret that.”

“How about a grilled cheese?” Burt offered. “That would hit the spot. Do you want help or do you mind if I lie down?” she

asked. “Lie down, Sweetheart. It’ll do you a world of good. I’ll have sandwiches in a

jiffy.” As she rested in the living room, she thought about the day and how Burt had

contributed to the discussion. After awhile, Burt joined her on the couch with sandwiches and apples sliced in discs, exactly the way she loved them.

“This looks lovely. Thank you. The apples are a perfect touch.” She peeled apart the sides of the grilled cheese and slipped an apple disc inside.

She heard Burt chuckle. “Do not tease,” she anticipated. “It makes it taste like apple pie.”

He smiled and leaned sideways to squeeze her affectionately. “If you say so,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock disbelief.

“When you are done teasing me, I would like to thank you for today.” “I’m done,” Burt responded with a grin. Claudia smiled and squeezed him back. “You were brilliant, articulate, and

precise. Exactly what those two needed. Somehow when you say it, it is easier to believe. You provide the voice of authority. I may become unwilling to teach without you.”

She watched as Burt’s chest puffed up. It made her happy to give him that feeling. “Ah, thanks, Sweetheart,” Burt said gruffly, a sure sign of emotion. After a

moment he added, “But don’t underestimate yourself. I’ve been watching and you definitely get through to them.”

“Thanks. I am aware of that,” she replied. “There are things they would have a hard time hearing from a man. And they need someone who can translate from a man’s world into a woman’s reality. It helps them to understand why they do not already know this information.”

Swallowing a bite of his sandwich, he asked, “Did you accomplish everything you wanted today?”

“Pretty close,” she answered. “I would have liked to talk some more about what providing means to a man. For his wife. For his family. For his friends. For his country. But they were full to the brim. They could not hear another word.”

“What would you have said?” Burt asked. Claudia smiled. “Honestly, I am more interested in what you would have said. I

would have asked you.” It made her happy when Burt chuckled at that. He scratched his cheek and she

could see him warming to the topic. “Well, being a man,” he said, “I would have gotten right to the point: Providing

for your wife grants you the privilege of being a husband and her appreciation makes it one of the best things in the world. It’s right at the heart of being a man.”

Claudia smiled to herself, hearing her words repeated. Not “her words” she reminded herself. They had been learned directly from men and passed down for hundreds of years.

Burt continued, “Providing for your children means you have fulfilled your obligations as a father; but you had better not expect appreciation from them for decades. It’s often more important that their mother appreciates your fathering. Providing for your friends makes you a good man and can earn their loyalty. Providing for your country, well, there are no words for what that means. ‘Honor’ is the closest you can get to that one.”

Burt quietly took another bite of his sandwich. “Is there anything else you would want them to know?” Claudia encouraged when

he swallowed. “Only what I said to you months ago when we were talking about being in my

building stage. Failing to provide for my family is the biggest fear I’ve ever had. Worse, much worse, than any fear of dying or getting injured in the War. In fact, that only mattered because it would have made it difficult, or impossible, to provide for you and little Max.”

Claudia leaned over and wrapped her arms around Burt. “And I will say what I said months ago. You have always done an amazing job of providing for all of us. You still do.” She kissed his cheek and sighed in contentment.

Burt kissed her back. “Well, Sweetheart, a big part of that was: You let me. Near as I can tell, most women these days won’t let a man provide for them. They want to be the provider. It’s a standoff of dueling providers and a man can’t give way without being emasculated. But fighting to provide; it’s usually not worth the energy. Men can’t win either way.”

MIKE looked up expectantly when he heard the garage door close. These last few weeks had been interesting. Karen was becoming more playful and friendly as the twice-weekly sessions with Claudia continued. And this last week had given him reason to hope for an actual sex life instead of merely an insemination program.

Wonder what they talked about today? As she came around the corner, Mike could tell instantly that she was tense. Uh,

oh. Her smile was a bit forced and she barely looked at him. He leaned back on the couch and consciously relaxed his shoulders. He knew she read his body language like a hawk. If he could contribute to her feeling more comfortable, he would.

“How was your session?” he asked casually. He watched her purposefully take a deep breath. He patted the couch next to

him, hoping she’d sit down and talk. While post-Claudia conversations were never easy, they always had a big impact.

Karen hesitated and then sat down, keeping some distance between them. Her face bore signs of an internal struggle. Mike kept his own face relaxed and noncommittal.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or, we don’t have to. We could hang out and watch a race or something,” he offered.

He saw her shoulders finally set in resolve and eventually she said, “I do want to talk about it. But I need some compassion on your part.”

“Sure, sure. I can do compassion. I got lots of compassion,” Mike assured her. “Uh. What exactly would ‘compassion’ look like?”

He was relieved when she chuckled and briefly touched his leg. Good sign. “If you could listen and not say, ‘I told you so,’ or ‘I coulda told you that,’” Karen

replied. “Okay. Listen. And no ‘I told you so.’ Even if it’s true,” Mike joked and hoped it

would fly. It didn’t. “Seriously, Mike. I couldn’t handle it.” “Okay, okay. I’m with ya,” he responded, hastily reassuring her. “Anything you

want to tell me, I’m all ears.” He waited while she took a deep breath and then another. Clearly she was riled up

about something. “I want to talk to you about something that I’ve been upset about for a long

time,” Karen said. Here it comes, Mike thought. “That’s the bad news,” she continued. “The good news is that Claudia and Burt

have provided some insight that could help us with this one.” “That’s great!” Mike replied enthusiastically. “I mean, that’s what Claudia does,

right? And Burt was there too? That guy’s cool. I’d love to hear what he has to say.” Karen smiled slightly. “Yeah, it’s been interesting. A couple of times he’s

contributed to the discussion. It’s helpful hearing it straight from a man.” Mike felt a little dissed. “I’d contribute if you gave me a chance.” Karen blanched. “I’m sorry, Honey. I’m sure you would. It’s that sometimes I need

to hear from a man I’m not involved with. A man I’m not trying to get anything from.” She looked like she wanted to take the last sentence back.

He cocked his head, intrigued. “What’re you trying to get from me? Besides a baby?”

“Not so quick,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve got to do this the way I’ve planned it out, or I won’t be able to do it at all.”

“Okay, okay. I can be patient,” he replied, impatiently. She gave him a look and he smiled, abashed. “Honest, I’ll be patient. Starting

right now.” What could this all be about? It must be huge!

KAREN tried to remember the last time she’d felt this vulnerable. Perhaps it was when she spoke to Mike about children the way Claudia had coached her. She had forced herself to calm down and find out what he needed to accomplish before he’d be “ready” to have them.

While Mike waited, his foot tapping, Karen looked at the notes she’d jotted down in the café.

Mike has made/done/given/paid for: It Provides: 1. A beautiful home with custom touches that Safety, security, beauty couldn’t

be bought, comfort, ease, happiness

2. The ability to teach kids and have summers off Doing something I love without having to live on a teacher’s salary having free time, fun, play money, not feeling poor

3. Lots of physical affection Feeling beautiful, in my body,

safe, loved, liked

4. Hours of listening to me Feeling loved, known, safe

5. Hours of talking to me (since I learned to listen) Loved, connected, part of

6. A gardener A pretty yard without work

7. Takes care of the cars Safe, clean, ladylike, loved

8. Goes through the mail I don’t have to; saves having headaches, feeling over-whelmed

9. Pays the bills Safety, security, certainty

Saves headaches

10. Puts the trash on the street Feels like I have a partner

11. Feeds the cats Happy cats, free time for me, no stinky fingers

If Mike: It would Provide:

A. Took out the kitchen trash when it’s full Feeling like a Queen Saving me from the Uglies

Having to wash hands Not feeling mad/a maid Wanting to cook for him

B. Picked up his clothes and put in hamper Them not yelling at me

1 less thing before bed

A peaceful bedroom Me happy to crawl in w/him

C. Did the dishes when I cook Feeling appreciated for it Wanting to cook more often Less tired/more sexy

D. Closed the garage door Feeling safe, not mad

Mike glanced surreptitiously at the paper in her lap. She instinctively pulled it

toward her chest. Taking yet another deep breath, Karen began, “Today the topic was ‘Providers.’ Claudia and Burt both think men are all about providing.” She paused for Mike to comment.

“I thought you wanted me to just listen,” he responded to the implied request. She frowned. “When I get to what I wrote down. You can talk during this part.” Mike scratched his head. “Okay, but remember my comments are limited. If I say

that I absolutely agree, or ‘What else is there to do?’ does that count as ‘I coulda told you that’?”

Karen couldn’t help but smile. She sure had painted him into a corner. Out of fear. But what is there to be afraid of? That he’ll agree to what I want but keep “forgetting.”

“You’re right. I’m being controlling. I’m afraid I’ll mess up. I’ve already messed it up enough,” she said, exasperated.

“What have you messed up?” Mike asked, his eyes gentle. Karen sighed. “I found out today that I’ve been nagging you the way socks on the

floor nag me. They always manage to get me to pick them up. I never understood why it didn’t work to get you to take the trash out. Today I found out — again — that you don’t think like I do. You’re lucky enough to have your brain screening out the nagging socks. Maybe, even, the nagging wife.”

Mike patted her knee. “I don’t mean to screen you out. But sometimes your voice sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Wa wa, wa wa wa waaa. I can’t seem to understand what you’re saying when I’m working on something else. Like I have ear plugs in or something.”

Karen had to laugh. “Lucky you. Claudia says your brain naturally tunes out what it has deemed irrelevant to your current commitment.”

“Well it makes it easier to focus,” he replied. “But harder to stay connected the way you manage to.” She could feel his compassion and it warmed her.

Karen pressed on, “Anyhow, we learned today that men are not interested in doing stuff merely because it’s there to do — like a woman would be inclined to. They said men only do things with outcomes that matter to themselves or to someone they care about.”

Mike nodded. “That’s certainly true for me. I’ve got a limited amount of time and energy. I’m not going to spend it on most things. It’s got to be worth it.”

“That’s exactly what they were talking about. The expenditure of energy versus the benefit of the result. But how do you measure the benefit?” Karen asked, now glad Mike was participating.

“There are lots of ways to measure benefit,” Mike replied. “In my business, it could be profit or reputation or good will. In our relationship, I care about whether it gives you something you need, or makes you happy, or makes your life significantly better.”

Karen was startled. “And how can you tell?” Mike rubbed his chin. “Sometimes I watch you struggle with something. It’s hard or

time-consuming or gives you a headache. That’s when I try to figure out what you need that I could provide. Like paying the bills or building a bigger kitchen.”

He shrugged, “Happy is the easiest to tell. Your whole face lights up. Sometimes your whole being. Like a Christmas tree. Like points on a scoreboard.”

Flabbergasted, Karen could only gape. “Points on a scoreboard?” she managed to get out.

“Yep,” Mike said sincerely. “When your face lights up like that, I win! That’s something I’m going to do again and again. Whether you ask me to or not.”

Karen shook her head. It was right here in front of me all along. How does Claudia see these things that I can’t? Because she’s not blinded by assuming he’s misbehaving. She looks for a good reason, finds one, and figures out how to work with it.

“I’d like to share with you what I wrote down now,” she said. Turning the notepad around, she handed it to Mike. She unconsciously held her breath while he read it. After a few moments, he smiled. She breathed.

“I didn’t know that my affection made you feel beautiful. Or liked. That’s cool. Especially since I need to touch you,” he said. “And I’m glad my taking care of the cars makes you feel ladylike. You are a lady. I’d do it anyway cuz I love it but I’m glad it provides that for you.”

Still reading, he added, “Yep, you got the headaches down here.” He stopped with his finger on #10. “My putting the trash on the street makes you

feel like you have a partner? All that for putting out the cans for the trash truck?” Karen nodded, her eyes holding his. Watching him move to the second list, she

held her breath again. He looked up at her, clearly confused. “You really mean taking the trash out from

the kitchen?” She nodded. “But that’s the easy part,” he said. “To the street is a bigger pain in the butt.”

She shook her head. “Not to me. They’re different. One takes wrestling the heavy trash cans. And as you can see, you doing that provides a lot. But it’s only once a week. The other happens every couple of days. And it makes me feel gross.”

Mike went back to reading the long list associated with taking out the trash. He was clearly dumbstruck.

“It’s hard to believe it could provide all that,” he said. When she started to react, he added, “But I do believe you! It’s hard though. I mean, it’s only trash ….”

He kept reading and exclaimed, “You’d want to cook more? How does that work?” “When I have to take out the trash, I get mad. I think I have to do everything. It

pisses me off and I don’t want to cook.”

Mike kept looking down the list. “What do you mean in ‘B’ by ‘not yelling at me?’ I don’t yell at you to pick up my socks.”

She laughed. “No, Honey. You don’t yell at me. The socks yell at me. It’s part of the feminine brain. Things out of place in our environment ‘yell’ at us to fix them.”

Mike was shaking his head incredulously. But he was clearly more fascinated by the list. He ventured, “’A’ and ‘C’ both make you want to cook more. And ‘B’ and ‘C’ both have to do with being open to sex …. If I’m reading this right, ‘C’ would get me sex and food … maybe I should just do the dishes … and ‘D’ is utterly confusing.”

She playfully punched his arm and he wrestled her into an affectionate hug. “Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me all along? That you need me to take out

the trash?” He smiled into her eyes as he held her close. Karen bit her lip but didn’t resist the embrace. “I thought I was telling you that. I

only found out today that I need to tell you what it would provide instead of only nag you for not doing it.”

She suddenly sat up straight, remembering the rest of the equation, “Burt said I should ask you what you need to take the trash out for me.”

Mike sat back and smiled. “That’s simple. I need you to tell me when you want it taken out.”

Suppressing a groan, she said, “When it’s full, naturally.” He cocked his head to the side. “Full to one person isn’t full to another, Darlin’.” Karen felt her eyes go wide. She connected one sentence to the other. This is

personal, she thought. It’s not “the trash is full” like a fact, inherently ready to go out and yelling at me. Mike’s taking it out for me. That’s why he wants to know when I want it taken out. That’s when it’s worth doing. For me. It’s all about providing for me!

Tears sprang into her eyes. Mike immediately looked concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked earnestly. She smiled through her tears and hugged him to her. “More than okay, Honey. Way

more than okay.” He held her close and kissed the top of her head. “Then what’s this about closing

the garage door? When you’re due home, I welcome you by opening it.”

KIMBERLEE struggled with her assignment. Providing was easiest to see in the men who worked for her. And the more she noticed it, and the more points she gave them in the form of smiles and words in public and in private, the more they provided. It appeared to be an endless spiral of energy being given and exchanged. Energy that was growing between them rather than diminishing.

As she munched her salad at her desk, she noticed her greatest obstacles were still her memories and their ability to trip her up. Now it was memories of her husband long suppressed. Her divorce had been made less painful by tuning into the bad things about their relationship. The bad things about him, specifically. His selfishness, his aloofness, his near-total lack of interest in her.

Paying attention to what men provided for her drew her mind back to their marriage and forced unwelcome images into her head. Unwelcome because they

made him look good and showed her as the one who was lacking. In appreciation, especially. Grudgingly she began writing a list to fulfill Claudia’s assignment. She started out with the most obvious things. >Mathew generated a stable income >That provided GOOD FOOD, NICE PLACE, SECURITY >Mathew cleaned up after himself (self-sufficient in food, laundry, etc.) >FREEDOM, TIME, NO HASSLES/Low EXPECTATIONS

As she wrote the last sentence, she realized there were two sides of that coin. She’d always complained about his independence as a negative. But it reduced her obligations as well. That made her think about Mathew’s seeming indifference and she now saw that in a different light. She wrote: >Mathew accepted me as I was

and sadly added: >That provided CALM, SAFETY, FREEDOM

While she always had a long list of things to change about Mathew, she knew intuitively that he had bought the whole package. He even defended her behavior to others with a simple, “That’s the way she is.” She’d never recognized it before as his way of being committed. She’d generated the divorce, not he.

Wistfully, she wondered if she had known then what she knew now, would it have worked out with Mathew. She wasn’t sure. Can not Frog Farming change who a man is? Or were Mathew and I not right for each other from the beginning? There were too many things I needed, like physical affection, that weren’t in his nature to give.

Although Mathew had accepted her, she never felt that he preferred the way she was. That brought Raul to mind. He gave the impression that he genuinely liked her. Quickly she noted: >Raul LIKES me >That provides SECURITY, EASE, FUN, COMFORT

She remembered the other questions Claudia had given them and added: >I can be PRODUCTIVE, RELAXED, CREATIVE, MYSELF

As she looked at the last line, she resolved to never be in a romantic relationship where a man didn’t provide at least what her boss gave her.

With a tingle up her spine, Jack’s face presented itself in her mind. Does he like me? she wondered. I don’t know, but he thinks I’m beautiful.

Her mind automatically sought safer territory. I wonder how all this would apply to Melissa? She always notices what Scott fails to provide — as misbehavior. I wonder what would happen if she started paying attention to the opposite? She’s too busy being pissed off at him to notice what a great life she has. How many women get to stay home with their kids these days?

Her thought reminded her that she still had not spoken to Melissa since the big fight with Scott. They’d never gone this long without at least checking in. But she had no idea what to say without getting in trouble for seeming to take Scott’s side. And since then she had hung up her sword for good. It’s a new world.

She wanted to help her friend. But she didn’t know how to explain how she had changed in such a short time. And, frankly, she didn’t want to kill the high she was on from how great things were going with her team at work — and her flirtation with Jack.

Reaching out cautiously, she carefully composed an email to Melissa. Hey M. Been really busy. Thinking about you. How’s it going? Love, K After hitting “Send,” she noticed the clock and tackled her assignment for a few more minutes. This time thinking about an imaginary future. >What would it provide to have my father in my life? >CONFIDENCE, SELF-KNOWLEDGE, FAMILY, ANSWERS …

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