A User's Guide to Not Fucking It Up

Human relationships are both what give life so much of its rich meaning and also hazardous minefields of difficulty. Most of us are walking around with wounding we can be unaware of, and when someone rubs up against it, it's easy to interpret something innocuous as a major offense. It's common, we've all reacted in this way before.

Life is full of let downs, and humans are some of the guiltiest culprits of each other's disappointments. We persist in living among one another because our kind wasn't built for solo cave dwelling. Even as we age, we continue to have healthy attachment needs to meet in order to remain optimally well; we need to feel safe, to be seen and known, to be comforted when we're in pain, to feel valued, and to receive support for our best selves. Ideally, all the relationships in our lives would provide that kind of presence, but I've learnt that it's a rare enough occurrence that when you find someone with whom you can share a healthy, loving connection, it's worth investment.

So much of this investment, the real work of healthy relating, happens inside us when the other person isn't even around. A major shift in my relational consciousness came from digesting the daily writings of New York Buddhist meditation teacher Paul Weinfield. A couple of years ago he wrote this bit that has stuck with me since:
"True love begins on the other side of disappointment. Until a person has let you down and yet you see his goodness anyway, until you understand the absurdity of trying to perfect your brief relationships in the face of death, you do not really love but only chase after what is easy. People are going to fail you, and you must treat their failures as an opportunity to work through your own disappointments and to find a love that does not break even when your ideals do."

He goes on to encourage us to extend this same kind of grace to ourselves, to forgive ourselves for all the ways in which we've disappointed or hurt our own hearts. The process of self-forgiveness was in many ways much scarier and more painful than forgiving someone else. When I finally set the table and invited those wounds to take a seat, I was met with such rage it's easy to understand why one would avoid looking into their darkness.

However, on the other side of my own disappointment was indeed a love that hadn't broken. Even after all the ways in which I've let myself down, I still possessed a willingness to repair what was wrecked, to mine the pain for wisdom, and to move forward less burdened by the shame of self-sabotage. Although unintended, all this inner effort was ultimately an investment in my relationships with others. Having an easier, more spacious and gracious way of relating to my own failures has helped me to be easier, and more spacious and gracious about the ways that others fail.

We are all failures in turn. It's important to stay humbled by reflecting on our own unskillful dealings, and to, as Paul suggests, not "get lost in the details of who did or said what and keep your eye on the larger arc of what you’re looking for in all these connections with others. For we tend to be so lost in reacting that we never stop to ask what we want in trying to be close to those whose bodies time will whisk away." What value does this person bring to your life? What is it about them and your connection to them that inspires you to keep them near? How much self-righteous anger are you willing to drop in order to continue to receive the benefit of this nourishing connection?

Being clear about who and what someone is to you and keeping that at the heart of all your interactions is massively helpful in moving past momentary disappointments. Of course we're wise to keep an eye on the relationship math, and if the numbers stop adding up then we reevaluate. We are only ever in relationship with the person who exists in the moment, not with a past them or a future possibility them. If someone ceases to treat you in a safe and healthy manner, you have every right to walk away. This is our most sacred responsibility to ourselves as adults.

For the rest of it, ask yourself, is it worth it? Is it worth the loss of someone who loves you because they handled something badly? Or weathered a difficult season and were not themselves for a time? Do no harm and take no shit, sure, but also have some grace and humility. Your next failure is imminent. You'll soon need the patience and compassion of your beloveds. Remember why you love them, and why you chose to draw them near.

Try to be easy about it. We're playing a long game here. We need good co-conspirators for our adventures.
Keep your love at the heart of it all.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Blessing the Gentle Men

Yoga Is...

People Can Be Good, or, Relationship as Refuge