A student shares a powerful meditation experience and then explores a deep fear of intimate relationships, wondering why she would enter a relationship when all she seems to bring is her own contraction and reactivity.
A student shares a powerful meditation experience and then explores a deep fear of intimate relationships, wondering why she would enter a relationship when all she seems to bring is her own contraction and reactivity.
During the meditation, something very beautiful happened. My heart was beating really fast. I had this moment of wondering: how is it possible that any experience, say an emotion, just appears? At some point I was having a memory of what happened yesterday, and I was triggered and angry. But because you were guiding the meditation, I asked myself, "Where is this even appearing? Where did it come from?" It's incredible not to be able to trace an origin to it. It just appears.
And suddenly the question arose: how is it possible that everything is appearing spontaneously, absolutely everything, yet I live a life that seems to have an order? Everything appears in a specific order, yet everything is just appearing all the time, spontaneously. You can't get past that mentally. But it was really beautiful, because then the same question deepened: everything that seems to have any sense of existence is also empty. How is that possible?
After the meditation, I just spent a lot of time in that vortex of "it's impossible, yet it's happening."
My actual question is a shift in gears. I feel that I'm facing a lot of fear when it comes to intimate relationships. I don't realize how afraid I am until I get closer and closer. I haven't dated or been in a romantic relationship, or even sought one, for over a year, maybe two. When I approach it, I realize that the past two years of seeing more of my contractions and reactions, my own shadow, brought me to a point where I thought: why would I ever seek a relationship when what I'm going to be bringing is all of this?
I lost the sense of the fantasy, the romanticism of "I'm going to seek a relationship to fill this void." That was an interesting journey, but now, as I start approaching relationships again, I think: the only thing I'm going to find in that relationship is all of my stuff. It's really frightening, really terrifying. Why would I do that?
You're assuming you would be the only one doing that.
I know. And I assume I know what's on the other end too.
The person you'd be having an intimate relationship with won't be bringing their stuff, because they don't have any?
Well, I've been in relationships where apparently I'm the only one bringing anything, so I know better.
That's not a real relationship. We both know that.
The fear of a deeper form of relating
Your fear, if I were to imagine what it could be about, is a fear of going from a past level of intimacy and maturity into a new one. You are growing out of a younger form where the innocence and the romanticism are the core of everything, into a way of relating that is more real and more authentic. And that is more rare. So it's going to be more challenging to find that level of intimacy, but it starts with you.
Your fear is naturally the resistance of moving into a place of vulnerability and potential pain. There won't be a relationship that isn't painful if it's real.
Yesterday I saw my competitiveness, and then I had the chance to talk to my friend at the end of the day and realized it's all happening here, all of it. And then I felt like maybe you're right: maybe I don't know the experience of a level of intimacy where all of that can exist and be held, without it condemning the relationship. I just experienced so much fear.
The fear is a mechanism of protection, because it's not a fear where there's a real risk right now, a real threat. It's not the fear of walking in front of a bus, or the fear of being in a relationship that's ending and facing a big change. Right now, it's a fear of the unknown, of a potential form of relating that isn't a reality yet.
I guess I was using my conflict with my friend as a proxy. It was all in my head. I was the one suffering, I was the one competing, I was doing everything, and on the other end nothing seemed to be happening. In a way, I understand that the fear isn't real; it's illusory. But at the same time, it doesn't feel that way.
The fear about a romantic relationship isn't real in the sense that it's about a pain that might happen. What you're talking about in your friendship has to do with something that is happening, something in yourself.
Right. Maybe I'm using that situation to think about romantic relationships, but really it's about intimate relationships in general. Let's erase "romantic." It's more about this level of intimacy and relating with others, the ones who are close, the ones who matter.
What is the deepest calling?
The matter here is: what is the deepest calling? Is it the protection, or is it the desire for intimacy? The protection is the fear. What is it protecting? It's protecting an image.
The choice now is to listen to something deeper, which might be there. I suspect it is there: the calling for a deeper relationship, a deeper intimacy, where the fear is just a part of it. And what's being risked is the self-involvement, the ideas of what we are or how we are.
Maybe the other fear, as you're speaking, is that I truly feel something changed for me in the way I understand myself and the world through this journey over the past years. But suddenly, when I get closer to someone, all of that is forgotten. Gone. Even the meditation right now: it's beautiful to contemplate and to see that it's so true, but then there's a gravitational pull to create a person again.
Contraction is also chosen
Contraction is there for a reason. You're describing it as something that just appears, and it does appear. But it doesn't appear without being willed. There is something deeper that is invoking the contraction. So it's correct to say it appears, it just happens, but there's another side. It's both. It's also being chosen, created, willed. It's important to see that side as well, and to ask: what is that in service to?
In these moments where I'm very much living as "I am this person having this conflict with this other one," because yesterday I really was that person competing with, or defending against, someone else, it just seems like it needs to run its course. It's not a situation where I should just ask, "Who am I really?" Or is there something from everything we've learned and discovered about ourselves that's worth bringing into that moment?
Knowing that's what's happening. In the moment, knowing that you're contracted, that you're defending, that you're competing.
I feel like I'm back to asking the questions from the very beginning.
What must be sacrificed
Another student here has something to offer.
Student: I sense that the fear is connected to what you said: "Why would I go into a relationship if all I'm going to bring is this contraction?" I think it's more like the contraction is what you're going to have to sacrifice. It's the last thing in the entire world you're going to want to do. But on the other side, you'll wonder why you didn't give that up sooner, because it was never really you.
The other thing I want to say is that it has to be lived, through the body, through the spiritual body, through the consciousness that is this life. It wants to unfold. And I think you really don't know what it's going to be like, even though you think you do.
That it's going to be this way, and actually it's going to be totally surprising.
My partner and I, when we first met, both wanted to stay away from each other. We did, for months. We just knew it was big, so we were trying to take it as slow as possible, and then we couldn't. An unexpected person. Not who either of us would have imagined. And then you're done for. There's something you can't refuse.
That's what I was saying, and what was just shared, in a different way. When she says the contraction needs to be sacrificed, I was bringing it as a question: what are you listening to? What's the deepest calling? If it's the calling for intimacy, then the fear and the contraction are just going to be a part of that. But if you're listening to the contraction and the fear, and that's as deep as your calling goes, then the contraction won't be sacrificed. It will be respected. It will be obeyed.
Thank you for that. When you said it earlier, I appreciated it deeply. I know the contraction, but I don't know how it could look past it, in relation with someone. So I agree: can I stay open to not knowing what's on the other side?
But with what you just said about the deepest desire: it's as if I had decided to meet Santa Claus all my life, and then I met Santa Claus, and I thought, "Oh, this wasn't really what I wanted for my life." The illusion of what I thought I wanted has been completely erased. So when you ask me what I really, really want, I don't know. Is intimacy really the goal of my soul? I don't know. For the longest time I thought I wanted something, and when I got it, I thought, "No, thank you."
Growing up is endless
That's just growing up. It's a deeper maturing in what we actually want. You're using the image of Santa Claus for a reason. And growing up is endless. That's the beauty of it: this endless unfolding. But because of that, we want to arrive and be done. The beauty is that it's endless, and that's what makes it so beautiful. It's a never-ending journey, but it's also painful because you can't arrive and say, "Okay, that's done."
You have a fantasy that you're the only one bringing the contraction. And you're going to be very surprised if that's your expectation.
Not all yours to carry
Student: It sounded like you were saying that because you had this realization with your friend (that the stuff you thought was in your friend was actually in you), you then generalized it to "I'm the one with all the stuff." But it's not that. What you saw was just what was yours in that particular moment. You're not the one with all the stuff.
Yes. I do that. Someone has to be the guilty one or the responsible one. If it's me, it's all me. If it's the other one, it's all and only the other one. That's a good thing to look at.
Student: There's just as much temptation to blame it all on yourself as to blame it all on the other.
Right. Growing up. It has been beautiful, this whole journey. I promise I don't always talk about relationships, but it seems very much like the beginning again. I will come back to these questions.
Glad you're talking about relationships again.