Intimacy, Discomfort, and Following the Deeper Longing
Savoring Experience and Free-Falling Into the Unknown
April 5, 2025
dialogue

Intimacy, Discomfort, and Following the Deeper Longing

Intimidad, incomodidad y seguir el anhelo más profundo

A wide-ranging conversation about the nature of separation, how triggers dissolve in close relationships, the difference between mutual and non-mutual intimacy, and the challenge of following the heart's deeper desires when practical life feels uncertain.

Intimacy, Discomfort, and Following the Deeper Longing

A wide-ranging conversation about the nature of separation, how triggers dissolve in close relationships, the difference between mutual and non-mutual intimacy, and the challenge of following the heart's deeper desires when practical life feels uncertain.

What was coming up in the last discussion was: why is there so much separation in this idea of there being a "me" and then an emotion? In the ocean analogy, there's the ocean, there's the wave, and then there's a "you" riding it. For me, it feels more like I am the ocean. A wave arises within me, and if I imagine myself to be the wave or the one riding the wave, that's when it becomes painful. But if I am the ocean and I recognize that, then it's not a problem, and the wave just settles.

Every teaching, every map, every pointing can be appropriate or not, right or wrong. But at that level, nothing that is spoken is true.

That makes more sense to me, because it was starting to feel confusing why there seems to be so much separation.

The limits of language

But there isn't separation, right? It is as you describe the experience. I wouldn't even say "I am the ocean," because there isn't an "I" that is the ocean or the surfer or the wave. It's all of that.

That's even better.

And that is, in a sense, the surfing as well: you can move into the tasting of being the ocean a bit more than the wave or the surfer at any time. A movement back and forth. A movement, so to speak. There isn't anything actually moving, but there is a sense of what is being tasted more in the foreground.

I've heard people say it's awareness just being itself, relating to itself, which is not really a relating. But when you say "tasting," it again feels like two.

I understand, but the only way to continue from there is to be in silence.

Right. As soon as language comes in, there's no other way to talk about it.

Then you must say: the tasting is not done by anything, and it's not tasting anything. It's just one taste.

How is resistance even possible?

What came up for me was: what is resistance, even? How is that possible?

It's not. It's an illusion.

But how can you even have an illusion? I don't get it.

I understand your question, and it goes both ways. You can't, and at the same time you know you can. It's both.

I just don't get how you can hide from yourself. There's this whole thing we're calling illusion: the entire apparent experience of "I'm resisting, I'm losing myself, I'm in identification." How is that even possible?

The more you see the illusion, the more impossible it is. And the more impossible you realize it always was. The more you see it, the more you see it never really happened. It's just a story. The illusion is believing the story. But then you can look and realize you never really believed it. You always knew it was a story.

I don't want to get too mental about it. It's just what was coming up. Whatever resistance arises, it really dissolves quickly. Then there are bigger things that come, things without stories, and I notice those don't go as quickly. But they're still seen as nothing. It seems to be some kind of dance of energy.

It's all Buddha nature. Always was, always will be.

Navigating triggers in relationship

I have a question we touched on last time, about relating. It's been coming up for me around relationships. You said that conflict doesn't really come up for you nowadays, but I would imagine across all the areas of your life, there are people who get triggered. How do you navigate that? Are you just noticing and not reacting? Do you address it? I know there's not a blanket answer for every moment, but if there's anything you can say.

For me, being triggered has two aspects. One has to do with the experience, the energetic or emotional arising. The other is the acting out in reaction to that arising.

For me, things shifted quite quickly. There are aspects that changed over time, but there was a very significant drop. Being triggered and upset with things at work or in relationships went from being a daily, very intense experience to, in the last thirty years, being triggered in an intense way maybe two or three times. About once a decade. And when it used to happen, there would be three or four days of emotional hangover. I would feel unwell for days. That doesn't happen anymore. So shifts at that level are a real possibility, at least in my experience.

The vicious cycle of mutual triggering

Now, with other people getting triggered: a big part of that also stopped, because in my own triggering, I was triggering others. When one contracts into a place of separation and not feeling safe in a relationship, one also creates a sense in the other that feeds this same lack of safety. It's a vicious cycle, and that pretty much completely stopped. Because if I'm not getting triggered, I'm rarely triggering others.

When situations do arise where others are getting triggered, it's often very contained in a certain lovingness. I remember, for example, many years ago, the biggest conflict situation at work came up with a business partner. This person got very upset and we went into a significant conflict. But I basically spent thirty or forty minutes helping this person ground. I was simply in an openness and a lovingness, and things settled.

In that sense, it really is a moment-by-moment flowing with what's happening. Sometimes I find it very appropriate to push back, to bring certain expressions that you could call aggressive or an expression of anger. But that used to come from fear and identification most or all of the time. Now it mostly comes from a sense that, in this moment, this feels appropriate. It's usually much shorter, less explosive, just a more firm expression, and then it's not needed instantly. There's no residual energy left. I find that very appropriate in certain situations.

But I'm also more and more not spending time with people who either I trigger or with whom there isn't a good flow of relationship. I don't find it interesting. I now spend very little time socializing.

That's what I'm sitting with. I've been alone for a long time, which feels really good. I do some relating here and there. I've been in an improv group for many months, and that was one of the few things I was doing socially. But I've started noticing triggers happening in the group, which I think is inevitable when you're spending that much time together and there isn't a shared value for transparency and authentic expression.

I have a natural desire to say, "What's coming up for you?" That's just how it feels right to express. And they really don't like that. They want to keep everything on the surface and brush whatever triggers they're having under the carpet. Someone said, "It's just my face. I just have a face sometimes, don't worry." And I thought, "It's not your face. The entire room's energy is shifting."

There's a part of me that thinks I can just accept that without reacting and just be with whatever arises. But it's more that I don't really want to. The improv part is fun, but it seems like interpersonal things will come up more and more, and it's not fun to be around people who aren't interested in being honest with that.

Mutuality in relationship

I agree. The deeper work of what you're asking about really happens only in relationship, by which I mean interacting with people who are close. And it also cannot really be done very deeply unless it's mutual, unless the interest is mutual.

That's what my question was about. I was curious about both: when you interact with people where it's not mutual, how do you navigate that? And what does it look like when it is mutual? Is it just nicer, easier?

I wouldn't say it's nice or easier. It depends on what you call nicer, but I have found it in a sense harder, because you go to the deeper, more painful places. But it's nicer in that things can actually deeply shift.

I'd love to hear more details of what that looks like. Is it you and your partner sitting together and saying, "This is what's coming up for me," and then sharing back and forth?

There's a lot. I wish she were here so she could speak to it as well.

It is the love and even devotion to intimacy and honesty, the devotion to learning and being loving, and the knowing that you can't know what is loving in the moment. Saying or doing any particular thing as the "loving" response can only be a conditioning. Any known way is going to be a conditioning. So you can't know.

It's this openness. It could start with a commitment, but it needs to be the love and devotion for openness, for intimacy, for truth, for vulnerability. Then what happens is conversations, all kinds of things. But the intimacy is what it's about, in the sense that if there were a goal, it's to be intimate and open now. It's not about arriving tomorrow at a better state. Any kind of process or healing has an objective. But if you are loving and devoted to openness, honesty, and intimacy, then the healing will happen.

I studied authentic relating practices, and a lot of it is based on the principle of presence, being here now. Some people really practice that. They might never have an awakening experience, but they're practicing this deeply present way of being in relationship.

What I'm noticing is that when you combine awakening with that, it seems really powerful. But I can also see where there's a temptation: "I don't need to talk about this. I can just be silent and notice."

Silence versus intimacy

If you're in relationship, then yes, you don't need to, and you can just be silent. But that might end up becoming a movement away from intimacy. The priority, for me, is the intimacy. Yes, there isn't the need, but there could be a loss in not engaging. It's like having a delicious meal in front of you and deciding not to have it.

I think because I've always leaned toward intimacy, that's been my preference. Then going into awakening, it moved more toward my own intimacy and not as much in relationship. Now, coming back into relationship, it feels like a choice: I can lean more into it, or I can not lean in as much. Because I have a tendency to lean into the intimacy, sometimes I can overdo it. There's too much processing.

That's where maturity matters. Usually at first we go into relationship as a way of coping and avoiding, so yes, it's relationship, but it's not necessarily intimate. Only through greater wakefulness, when there is an understanding and a knowing that the relationship isn't needed, can there be a deeper intimacy.

But if going into intimacy brings up habits, that's where they can be seen. For example, the habit to process. You just said "too much processing." That's a habit. It's not necessarily intimacy to process.

I guess I'm calling it intimacy because it feels like, "I want to know what's in your world. Tell me about that. Here's my world. How are we connecting?" It feels like it comes from love and curiosity, but it can also result in too much, because it's never-ending.

If there's a lot of words and processing, that's not necessarily as deep and intimate.

I haven't had a partner since going deeper into the path of awakening, so I don't know what that will look like.

Intimacy can be in complete silence.

That's my favorite. It's more when there's some kind of trigger that it becomes a question.

That's where the juicy bits are. When attachment arises and triggering comes up and then the addiction to processing surfaces, all of that can be worked through. In that sense, it's a never-ending process of deepening. No matter how much awakening there has been, there is so much that can be lived and deepened.

I was curious if there were more specifics of what that can look like.

The specifics, in my experience, are that it's almost permanently delightful. Constantly enjoyable. Where there used to be a lot of friction and triggering, now there is almost permanent delight, even when difficult things are happening, being talked about or not talked about, because life brings all kinds of situations that can bring up pain.

Dropping the label of discomfort

That's really sweet to hear. The last conversation I had with someone who was triggered, there was a lot of silence and then they kept saying how uncomfortable the conversation was. They said, "This is so painful. I never want to do this again. I don't want to have to talk about what's going on." And I thought, "This is really fun for me." I can feel the discomfort, but I'm also really excited to get honest with someone. I love going into the deep, the real, and uncovering what's here.

I recommend it very highly.

It's not easy to find, and that's why I also ask about the other option: what you do when you're in a world where most of the population doesn't want to do that.

I feel lucky with the serendipity of having met my partner, and it's beautiful. I find a lot of people delightful, even people who have no spiritual practice. But obviously, the closer you get, the more stuff comes up. Still, I don't need deep conversation in order to feel the deepest lovingness and intimacy with somebody who might be close to a stranger. Going to a cafe and having a moment with a barista can be so beautiful and delightful.

Those are not the interactions that are a question for me.

I understand. I can also speak about family and difficult relationships. Even when there is more misunderstanding and difference, there is a lot of delight.

There's so much love there, especially with those deeper old attachments with family. And then some stuff comes up that's uncomfortable. I guess my way is that I do keep a lot of distance. I'm not visiting them and putting myself in more uncomfortable situations. But from afar, it's great.

If I have one recommendation: what you're calling "uncomfortable" or "discomfort," see what happens if you drop that label. It's a useful label up to a point, to recognize, "Oh, there is discomfort. Here it is. It's here a lot. Discomfort is almost constantly present in different ways. Now I can relate to it and engage with it." But at some point, it's a label that carries a negative interpretation of an experience.

I really like that. That's a very good reframe. Because it's actually what I said to the person I was speaking with, who said, "This conversation is very uncomfortable." And I said, "Oh, is it? I think it's fine." But I am doing that same thing myself in other relationships.

Where it's challenging to you, I would recommend trying to relate to what you call discomfort and tasting it more directly, without names, without labels, so that it's not pushed away or judged as some subtle negative thing.

Boundaries and intelligence

It can become mental. There was so much learning around boundaries, "your stuff and my stuff," all that separation. That comes up too, where I'm trying to navigate whose experience this is. But it doesn't matter.

Boundaries are very valid. Practice them until the practice becomes a crutch.

What I've discovered is that boundaries come from the intelligence just doing what it needs to do. I don't have to be involved. It just responds. There was a time when I needed to learn them, but now it's already there. I don't have to think about it. There's still something that comes from labeling discomfort, though, that then goes, "I'm uncomfortable because you are doing this and I need to maintain this boundary with you."

That can be dropped.

But there does seem to be some intelligence in noting, "Well, this keeps happening around you, and maybe I don't need to spend as much time with you."

The question there is: do you want to be with that person or not? If the condition is that certain discomfort doesn't appear, that's a valid choice. But what matters is whether you actually want to relate and be in relationship with that person.

I think that's partly what informs the decision. If you're noticing this challenge in relating and it keeps happening...

What I'm saying is: would you want to be with that person even if that challenge in the relationship would happen until the end of your life? Not needing it to stop, would you still want to be in relation to that person? Or is that a condition on the relationship? Either answer is fine. There's no right or wrong. It's just: where is the actual interest?

What determines relationship?

When you put it that way, it highlights the question: why do you spend time with anyone? Isn't it usually because it's fun and positive? The natural measurement is: what percentage of this is enjoyable versus not?

That's only something you can decide. Then you could also ask: does it always have to be fun, and what's the threshold?

"Fun" can include going into deep, difficult things. That's fun for me. But it's very clear to me when it's fun and when we're simply not speaking the same language.

At that level, what matters for me is: what's the desire? What's the deep love for? Is it for that relationship, even if discomfort and challenges appear, or not? What I'm recommending is that the movement comes from whether there is that love for the relationship or not.

I think the challenge is that most relationships don't get to a level where there's a real loving bond unless you've spent a significant amount of time together and grown together. Before that point, everyone's expendable based on whether they're fun or not.

Exactly, and that's why I'm bringing it up. If the level of fun or discomfort determines the choice, it's pretty limited.

It's always been clear for me that if people share the same values I have, then it's really fun to go into the uncomfortable together. If not, it just doesn't feel worth my time, unless we're keeping things at a really light level, like with improv, where it's just play. That's fine, but inevitably that shifts because of what happens when you spend more time together. If you don't share the same values, it's no longer interesting for me.

I wish you to have all the relationships you want.

Following the heart into the unknown

There's also the question of choice. I know you're a big fan of choice, and then there's this choicelessness that I also want to surrender to.

The problem with choice is the belief that there's a separate entity or agent that is choosing, and that this agent is what I am.

When choice feels like it's coming from that place, then surrendering feels better.

Just follow your heart. Take the risks. The energy that feels right for you is this surrendering and openness and non-choosing, which is very deep, real, and true. Even still, the invocation can come from prayer, from the invitation for the movement of your life to come from the deepest love and longing, as opposed to fear and contraction.

It's interesting. I'm aware of these deeper longings, and yet the moment-to-moment choices feel like they come more out of just wanting what's peaceful now and easy now.

That might be in opposition to the deeper heart desire, because ultimately, true peace has no condition.

That's a theme that keeps coming back. I still lean toward what's traditionally peaceful: stillness.

If you have a deeper longing calling you into something that might not be traditionally peaceful, I recommend you pay attention to that.

If I'm being more honest, I do take action toward the deeper longings, and then I always hit some kind of barrier. "I took all this action, but now I don't know the next step because of this." So then I pause and lose that momentum. It feels like there's missing information I need to take more action, but I get energized and then stall.

Just follow your heart. The information is in the love and in what you want. Then it's unknown.

I'm talking about practical things. I don't know where I want to buy the land yet. I'm going through the motions, but I don't have the clarity.

That's life. That's always the dance.