I am well down life’s path, having two “primary” relationships, with never the “third” or surrogate accompanying relationship. Your coffee shop – back in my work-world those existed on a regular basis. Generally, however they were most often visited with colleagues. I would observe others, singular others, hanging out as regulars. They were there to be around other people. Between relationships I first learned of that attraction. Just people. I just needed other people. Not even to talk or interact with, but to be occupying the same space. If only for a time.
Your quest for a third place relationship, or just to explore the concept philosophically provokes many thoughts. Self, spouse are my primary relationships. Siblings, children, and grandchildren are an ebb and flow relationship. They get very busy with their own lives and relationships.
So many of my peers, in succeeding relationships, battle with the “relationships” that preceded their now primary relationship. When “mom” is not “my” mom. When “dad” is not “my” dad. An emotional caldron. Perhaps morass is more descriptive.
Just another human, to share their story/stories they yearn to share. Separate and apart from what is shared in the primary relationship. It seems to me, we need people, social creatures that we are.
As life evolves, I have been exposed to couples where they were “everything” to each other. Inevitable one passes – death or divorce. The loneliness which ensues I have observed destroys the survivor. Perhaps a third, or surrogate, relationship evolves into a survival relationship. We are all guaranteed to pass. Rarely do we get to pass “together”.
Love this. I have spent a lot of time thinking and thinking about writing about third places, if that makes sense. I love the word “slippery” to describe these third place relationships. I have one with my hairstylist. She is a few years younger than me but has done my hair for 25 years or sonething. We are not friends but sometimes we share very intimate things and help each other along. I value it and I relate to the idea of showing up in a singular way sometimes- she seems me as a good mom and we often talk about our sons. Anyway- thanks for this. I’m thinking about going to my local coffee shop more often and trying to make a third place of it. I need more of these interactions. 😀
Yes! Ack Ss just erased my comment to you Melinda, but I wanted to say thank you for getting it about “slippery!” I was trying to find a word that wrested intimacy out of a depth framework, because sometimes I’ll have a profound moment with a near stranger. Someone I see regularly. But aren’t super tight. I’m thinking of a woman who works a drive thru at a local sandwich shop, and every time I see her my whole body just relaxes. She’s so kind, so funny and cool, and even though we didn’t exactly mean to create the intimacy it just sort of slipped into our interactions. And I’m so thankful for it.
According to my research, what might be called "third place sexual relationships" were probably the norm until the advent of agriculture and its attendant encumbrances (property concerns, rampant STDs, organized religions, hierarchical power dynamics, etc.). Our current relationship structures are as sedentary as our bodies -- leading to some similar kinds of suffering.
Totally. It’s a big reason I’m so fascinated by surrogate partners at the moment, because they quietly help heal some of that suffering, whether it’s bad relationships, trauma, or simple loneliness. They disrupt the private property thinking we associate with traditional romantic relationships, and what sex can even BE for — a vehicle for healing, for returning you back to your body. Thanks for picking up the thread here on the sexual nature of what these third place relationships can be Chris. (And, how they once were.)
I gleefully read your descriptions of the two coffee shops out loud to my husband. We had our first meetings with our wedding officiant there. (An Art History professor not priest, scandalizing our religious relatives). I've never been inside the second.
My third place relationships include fellow ultimate frisbee players at the games we play in at Zilker and Circle C and other parks here in Austin, where I live now, and at several different places back in NC, where I spent most of my life, and at occasional tournaments. Also people I know in English-, Spanish- speaking, and bilingual support groups and volunteer groups— third spaces that only exist for maybe an hour or two a week, or for the length of a campaign or other effort. (The recent group effort to prevent Zilker Park from being developed in an awful way was like that.) The guys and gals, mostly older than me, who are at Cup A Joe every morning in Raleigh, who I sit with whenever I’m back there. The woman I’ve bought seafood from for about 30 years at her shop on the NC Coast, and several people who have worked there, and other shoppers. The people who also stay at the pet-friendly beach hotel we like, or work there. (Dog walkers create a third place as they go.) Also the people who run or eat at Donn’s, our local breakfast / Mexican food / BBQ joint in the mornings. And the people who run or frequent my favorite small bookstores and libraries and book clubs. And some people I’ve met in discussions online and exchanged ideas with but never met in person. The people in the online geographically scattered exercise group I joined in the pandemic. The people in the Zoom dances that started in the pandemic that we take part in, and the pets that dance with some of us. People in my wife’s yoga classes and at the Natural Gardener, where she shops and takes me along sometimes.
Some of these people have become friends over time as we interacted again and again. Some haven’t but could.
Several of these spaces have fixed times when people come together regularly, and others are places I go to regularly and see the same people. I think regularity is part of what makes third place relationships more likely.
Thanks for the prompt.
P.S. This makes me think about a book on the loss of these places and relationships, Robert Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. And this morning someone wrote about the decline of American political parties and basically said that the loss of community there is what has hollowed them out:
Yes- I recognize those fleeting third places relationships in my life as well. And they are so important. I have Bowling Alone and another book by him. Haven’t finished them but they are waiting for me. I will check out that link at the bottom of your reply. I am really fascinated by this topic. Also- I agree that this lack of community has led to our nation’s polarization and loneliness.
Patrick this made my heart swell. It is the regularity! And personally, I love the fact that some people are frozen in some unnamable level of intimacy that isn’t *close*, but consistent. Value in both. (PS thank you for being part of the group that prevented Zilker from being developed. That and Barton Springs are some of our ultimate third places, right?)
Also — I need to connect my partner with your English/Spanish speaking groups! If that particular third place is taking additions at the moment, he might love it.
Interesting and enchanting.
I am well down life’s path, having two “primary” relationships, with never the “third” or surrogate accompanying relationship. Your coffee shop – back in my work-world those existed on a regular basis. Generally, however they were most often visited with colleagues. I would observe others, singular others, hanging out as regulars. They were there to be around other people. Between relationships I first learned of that attraction. Just people. I just needed other people. Not even to talk or interact with, but to be occupying the same space. If only for a time.
Your quest for a third place relationship, or just to explore the concept philosophically provokes many thoughts. Self, spouse are my primary relationships. Siblings, children, and grandchildren are an ebb and flow relationship. They get very busy with their own lives and relationships.
So many of my peers, in succeeding relationships, battle with the “relationships” that preceded their now primary relationship. When “mom” is not “my” mom. When “dad” is not “my” dad. An emotional caldron. Perhaps morass is more descriptive.
Just another human, to share their story/stories they yearn to share. Separate and apart from what is shared in the primary relationship. It seems to me, we need people, social creatures that we are.
As life evolves, I have been exposed to couples where they were “everything” to each other. Inevitable one passes – death or divorce. The loneliness which ensues I have observed destroys the survivor. Perhaps a third, or surrogate, relationship evolves into a survival relationship. We are all guaranteed to pass. Rarely do we get to pass “together”.
Love this. I have spent a lot of time thinking and thinking about writing about third places, if that makes sense. I love the word “slippery” to describe these third place relationships. I have one with my hairstylist. She is a few years younger than me but has done my hair for 25 years or sonething. We are not friends but sometimes we share very intimate things and help each other along. I value it and I relate to the idea of showing up in a singular way sometimes- she seems me as a good mom and we often talk about our sons. Anyway- thanks for this. I’m thinking about going to my local coffee shop more often and trying to make a third place of it. I need more of these interactions. 😀
Yes! Ack Ss just erased my comment to you Melinda, but I wanted to say thank you for getting it about “slippery!” I was trying to find a word that wrested intimacy out of a depth framework, because sometimes I’ll have a profound moment with a near stranger. Someone I see regularly. But aren’t super tight. I’m thinking of a woman who works a drive thru at a local sandwich shop, and every time I see her my whole body just relaxes. She’s so kind, so funny and cool, and even though we didn’t exactly mean to create the intimacy it just sort of slipped into our interactions. And I’m so thankful for it.
Yes - that intimacy can just "slip" into place. :>)
According to my research, what might be called "third place sexual relationships" were probably the norm until the advent of agriculture and its attendant encumbrances (property concerns, rampant STDs, organized religions, hierarchical power dynamics, etc.). Our current relationship structures are as sedentary as our bodies -- leading to some similar kinds of suffering.
Totally. It’s a big reason I’m so fascinated by surrogate partners at the moment, because they quietly help heal some of that suffering, whether it’s bad relationships, trauma, or simple loneliness. They disrupt the private property thinking we associate with traditional romantic relationships, and what sex can even BE for — a vehicle for healing, for returning you back to your body. Thanks for picking up the thread here on the sexual nature of what these third place relationships can be Chris. (And, how they once were.)
I gleefully read your descriptions of the two coffee shops out loud to my husband. We had our first meetings with our wedding officiant there. (An Art History professor not priest, scandalizing our religious relatives). I've never been inside the second.
Michelle ☺️ This made me so happy, that you know. (And GJ is in fact the perfect spot to meet up with an Art History wedding officiant.)
I’ve known about the concept of the Third Place for ages. For me, it’s the barn where I board my mare, and the horsewomen there are my third partners.
Horsewomen are strong, fierce, and independent, and they would walk through fire for you. They’ve saved my life.
My third place relationships include fellow ultimate frisbee players at the games we play in at Zilker and Circle C and other parks here in Austin, where I live now, and at several different places back in NC, where I spent most of my life, and at occasional tournaments. Also people I know in English-, Spanish- speaking, and bilingual support groups and volunteer groups— third spaces that only exist for maybe an hour or two a week, or for the length of a campaign or other effort. (The recent group effort to prevent Zilker Park from being developed in an awful way was like that.) The guys and gals, mostly older than me, who are at Cup A Joe every morning in Raleigh, who I sit with whenever I’m back there. The woman I’ve bought seafood from for about 30 years at her shop on the NC Coast, and several people who have worked there, and other shoppers. The people who also stay at the pet-friendly beach hotel we like, or work there. (Dog walkers create a third place as they go.) Also the people who run or eat at Donn’s, our local breakfast / Mexican food / BBQ joint in the mornings. And the people who run or frequent my favorite small bookstores and libraries and book clubs. And some people I’ve met in discussions online and exchanged ideas with but never met in person. The people in the online geographically scattered exercise group I joined in the pandemic. The people in the Zoom dances that started in the pandemic that we take part in, and the pets that dance with some of us. People in my wife’s yoga classes and at the Natural Gardener, where she shops and takes me along sometimes.
Some of these people have become friends over time as we interacted again and again. Some haven’t but could.
Several of these spaces have fixed times when people come together regularly, and others are places I go to regularly and see the same people. I think regularity is part of what makes third place relationships more likely.
Thanks for the prompt.
P.S. This makes me think about a book on the loss of these places and relationships, Robert Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. And this morning someone wrote about the decline of American political parties and basically said that the loss of community there is what has hollowed them out:
Henry Farrell. “Not Popularism. Not Deliverism. Partyism.” Programmable Mutter (Substack), November 29, 2024. https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/not-popularism-not-deliverism-partyism
Yes- I recognize those fleeting third places relationships in my life as well. And they are so important. I have Bowling Alone and another book by him. Haven’t finished them but they are waiting for me. I will check out that link at the bottom of your reply. I am really fascinated by this topic. Also- I agree that this lack of community has led to our nation’s polarization and loneliness.
Patrick this made my heart swell. It is the regularity! And personally, I love the fact that some people are frozen in some unnamable level of intimacy that isn’t *close*, but consistent. Value in both. (PS thank you for being part of the group that prevented Zilker from being developed. That and Barton Springs are some of our ultimate third places, right?)
Also — I need to connect my partner with your English/Spanish speaking groups! If that particular third place is taking additions at the moment, he might love it.
I’ll DM you about the bilingual situations I’ve found here in Austin.
Thank youuu!