Boundaries, Authenticity, and the Third
Límites, autenticidad y el tercero
A question about how relational exercises reveal a deeper sense of connection, and how boundaries serve as transitional tools on the way to authentic relating.
Boundaries, Authenticity, and the Third
A question about how relational exercises reveal a deeper sense of connection, and how boundaries serve as transitional tools on the way to authentic relating.
I was curious about something you started to talk about: "I, not I." You began to go there, then pulled back and said, "Let's stick with the dismantling resistance part." But I wanted to share something related.
I recently did an authentic relating style workshop about boundaries. The exercise involved feeling into your own presence, your own body, your own desires and boundaries as you relate to someone else, while simultaneously sensing not only the other person but the sort of third entity that's created when you're in connection with someone. The aim was to balance your awareness of yourself with your awareness of what's happening between you.
I had this experience of all the anxieties that can come with social interaction manifesting a little bit and then dwindling as we stayed present. The more I did the exercise, switching partners each time, the easier it became for me to tap into a sense of connection and presence, not only with myself but also with the other person. I realized I had access to a deeper common state that felt more real than any of the imaginings you typically have when you come across someone in an ordinary social interaction.
What was interesting was that in cultivating deeper connection with another person, I actually cultivated deeper connection with myself. And on some level, it felt like a unified field, like there wasn't much separation at all. I was reminded of that when you were talking about "I, not I," or "the we." I can't remember exactly how you put it.
First of all, I see boundaries as a tool. They are almost like a transitional object.
The teddy bear as transitional object
Think of the teddy bear you might have had as a child. For me, it was actually a brown teddy bear. I loved it, and then I totally outgrew it, but I still didn't want it to be thrown out. It's very well known in psychology that there's a positive use of a transitional object: you project into it a kind of affection and comfort that a parent, especially a mother, would bring. When the mother is gone, the teddy bear replaces her affection and her sense of touch. There's a projection into that object, and it helps you transition away from the need of having your mother present. It helps you maintain your own sense of okayness when she's not there. And the whole point of the transitional object is that eventually you can let go of the teddy bear. You don't need it anymore.
Boundaries as a transitional tool
With boundaries, something similar is at work. When we work on boundaries, it's because we've lost something. We need a tool, a way of doing something that helps us transition into a way of being. The concept and the practice of boundaries helps us get there. But once boundaries are established, I recommend letting them go.
What I'm talking about may sound surprising, but I'm talking about honesty and authenticity.
The inner betrayal
It's similar to when we have an attachment to a parent. We become desperate without that connection, so we make sacrifices to get that affection and comfort. We sacrifice our authenticity and our own needs. We negotiate internally and say, "I'm willing to ignore this part of me because it's more important to get my parent's attention." There's a bit of inner betrayal, a loss of authenticity, a loss of truthfulness about our wants and desires. We forget what they are because we train ourselves to forget, so that we can pretend in a way we know will work as a strategy to get our parent's attention. For example: "No, I'm fine, Mommy. What do you need?" When actually I'm hurting, but I'm putting on a kind of openness and maturity because she needs attention, and by giving her attention I get hers. In doing so, I'm betraying my true wants and desires.
From boundaries to honest relating
This pattern then gets transferred onto other relationships. So boundaries become a way for us to co-agree to be more honest, authentic, and sincere. We say, "I'm just setting my boundaries," and it's almost like an excuse to tell the other person, "I don't want this, but I'm not being mean; it's a boundary." We give each other permission to be more authentic. But once we actually are authentic, sincere, and honest, and the other person respects that because we've worked on it together, and they deal with their sadness or pain of being offended, then we're just being honest. Boundaries go out the window. There's no need for them. I'm simply saying: "No, I don't want this. Yes, I want that. I'd rather this." It becomes the dance of authentic, true, honest relating.
What I'm describing here is the process of moving toward yourself, toward authenticity, toward what you want, toward individual development. But by doing that in relationship, we create a deeper bond, a deeper understanding, and we also get closer to the reality of the absence of a true, real separation.
The third becomes palpable
That "third" you're talking about starts to become palpable. It's almost as tactile as your breath. You can have experiences where there's such an intimacy that you can touch it. One of my teachers now works only on this, the third, and he wrote a book called The I That Is We. It points to this: the more you move toward authenticity, honesty, and truth in yourself and with others, the more you simultaneously realize the nature of you and another as the same.
So what you're saying is that boundaries are transitional objects because what they help you discover is your authentic wants, needs, and desires. And once you discover those and can more fluidly negotiate them in relationship, the fear of either losing the other, like losing your mother's attention, or of losing yourself, becomes irrelevant. Because in being authentic, you're maybe no longer resisting.
Exactly. And there's nothing better than it, because you realize that if you do something you don't want in a relationship, it's not good for you and it's not good for the other.
The false belief that self-sacrifice is good
Because we've transferred problems from relationships with our caretakers and parents onto a partner (friends as well, but it becomes really activated with a romantic partner), all of these patterns come up. We have this strange belief that if I do something I don't want but it's what the other person wants, there is some good in that. At least it's good for them, and then I'm being good, and something positive is coming from it.
I'm not talking about small things. If she wants to go for a walk and I'm not quite in the mood but I go anyway and enjoy it, that's fine. I'm talking about when it really crosses something fundamental, which is what boundaries address: something that is truly a "no." When we do things we don't want at that level, it actually hurts others. They might think they want it. We might think they want it. But it hurts them.
The key is to be more and more honest, clear, and direct with ourselves. The more we are, the more what we do is best for everyone around us.
What the universe wants as you
When I say "what you truly want," one way to conceive of the question is: what does the universe, as you, want? Not the universe and you separate from it. You, the universe, as this particular person. The concept of "I" is no longer limited to the body-mind. The body-mind has desires and wants, yes. But I'm talking about the desires and wants that you, universe, want as this person. It's a whole other level of deep desiring and wanting. Those are the desires and wants that are true. And if you live from there, it will carry a wisdom that is aligned with a much vaster and broader aspect of reality.
I can get into quite religious metaphors here because I think they're beautiful. There may be skepticism about that, and that's fine. But consider: Jesus decided to accept the crucifixion. It's described in the scriptures (whether literally true or not, think of it as a story if you need to) that saying yes to being crucified, carrying the cross to the top of the hill, and letting himself be crucified was a choice. I'm sure he had the power to avoid it. He said yes to that. Consider the impact that has had across millennia and across humanity. I would argue that was a universal desire that he obeyed, that he felt, that he wanted, that he listened to and followed, and that he was completely authentic about.
I get what you're saying, and I've had experiences of that. I can't say I've been compelled to accept crucifixion, but I have had experiences of feeling the universe and answering that call, acting in accordance with it. And maybe this is the resistance piece. It hasn't lasted. I haven't been able to fully surrender. I've experienced enough to recognize it when it's there, but there's still something in me that resists. To your point about the transitional object, my guess is that it has to do with a fear of loss that is still present.
Resistance as believing you're something you're not
Yes. You can consider resistance to simply be the choice to keep believing you're something you're not. The point of "accept" and "stop resisting" has to do with just changing your mind. And that only happens when there's no other way, because believing in something you're not is causing so much trouble that you get tired of it. All of your energy to keep holding on gets exhausted. That's when surrendering happens: you simply don't have more energy to fight and keep believing something you're not.
That's almost a concerning idea, because I have enough privilege in my life that I can see myself feeling comfortable with delusion for a good long while before it becomes a dire situation. But maybe that's not quite what you're saying.