The Middle Path in Relationships
El Camino Medio en las Relaciones
A student describes a pattern of withdrawing from relationships to protect against emotional and physical drain, and the teacher explores how deeper authenticity and vulnerability might resolve the cycle.
The Middle Path in Relationships
A student describes a pattern of withdrawing from relationships to protect against emotional and physical drain, and the teacher explores how deeper authenticity and vulnerability might resolve the cycle.
I have a somewhat different dynamic, but there are many relational things I'm always working on that feel unresolved in my system. So much of my life has been built to prevent relational challenges. I spend pretty much all my time alone, which I really love, and I know I need a lot of that because I'm very sensitive.
I also have health conditions that I believe come from relational traumas I absorbed as a child from traumatic interactions in my family. It's also generational: everyone in my family has health issues and unhealthy styles of relating. I rarely see or even talk to my family anymore. And with people in general, I keep it pretty minimal. I have really great interactions for short periods, I can connect deeply with people and have fun, and then I just go back into my cave. Which is fine, but I can feel that it's cutting off a part of me and my life potential. I don't have a specific question. I was inspired by the previous share and I'm wondering if something arises for you.
Just the contrast you're describing, the language of a cave, spending a lot of alone time, and then the sense of struggle with relationships, that's definitely something. With just that said, it feels like there's something to explore. What would happen if you turned it around, spent less time alone and less time in your cave, and just saw what happens?
I do that. And it just ends up the same way: I'll do it and it's fine until it's not, and then I have to recover.
And when it's not fine, what happens? Because that's what needs to be addressed. It sounds like you're looping. You're not addressing what the actual problem is.
What comes up manifests mostly as physical symptoms. I'm drained and exhausted. Sometimes anger comes up and I can look at that more specifically, but most of the time it's more of a general drain. Nothing happened; I'm just depleted.
What do you mean nothing happens? That what you wanted to happen didn't happen? Give me a particular example. Paint the situation. You're meeting with whom, what happens, and why does it go bad?
A specific example
I could use yesterday. I saw a friend, though it's not the most dramatic example. My back went out two months ago, and I haven't even left my apartment because I couldn't walk. She came over to help with some things around the house. We were sitting and talking, and I mentioned I hadn't left the house or seen anyone. She said that was crazy, and I told her I didn't really mind. She asked if I felt lonely, and I said no. Then she started talking about how she feels really lonely and sad, how she wished she saw me and other friends more. She started crying. I held space for her, and she felt a lot better. She thanked me, said it was really nice, talked more about other problems in her life, and then left.
It was a nice visit. But then she said she could come over again in a couple of days, and I felt a resistance, a contraction, like "I have to do this again." I don't have a problem with people having problems, but it's not a fun time for me to just hold space for people complaining. I'd rather be doing other things.
The question of authenticity
My reading is that you're not being authentic.
Which part? In what way? I feel like I am.
When she left, she suggested coming back in a few days and you felt a heaviness.
Not heaviness exactly. I noticed a resistance, a little contraction. I wasn't sure I wanted to do that again so soon.
A contraction, a resistance, and then you said you don't want to spend that time listening to somebody complain. That's you evaluating the flavor of an experience. It's fine to look at it that way and say, "She was complaining the whole time and that's not fun for me." But I'm saying it's not authentic because you let that happen, and you didn't want it.
Interesting. I'm summarizing. That wasn't the only aspect; there were really sweet parts too. And this kind of summarizes all my relationships: there are nice parts, and I'm present and authentic for those. But then there are parts that aren't enjoyable, and I accept them because no one is perfect and always fun, right?
This is where the meat of the thing is, and also the complexity of talking about situations I'm not a part of. I can only infer from a very short description, so there's going to be room for error on my end. But I trust my intuition. When I say you weren't authentic, it's not a black-and-white thing. It's not that you are never, ever authentic. But when you describe the problem with the encounter as "I don't know if I want to do this again, sitting with somebody complaining," the only way that would happen is because you weren't being authentic. Even if it was only one hour out of two, if I genuinely don't want to sit with somebody complaining and I'm going to try to avoid a situation where it happens again, it wouldn't have happened in the first place.
That doesn't make sense to me, though. You told us about uncomfortable dynamics with your own family. I'm sure that's not fun for you either, but that's life, right?
Choosing difficulty versus enduring it
I choose them totally, completely, and absolutely. I have no problem with having them, and I want to have them. One hundred percent. I make time for them, plan for them, and have them on purpose.
The difficult parts?
One hundred percent. Because I love it.
You love being frustrated with your family?
I love being with my family.
Right, that's my point. You love the wholeness of it. That's what I'm saying. I love my friend and I'm taking the wholeness of her.
It's not the same. I need to get into more detail. When I describe things, it's hard to imagine from the outside. For example, I meet with my mother and we have a frustrating conversation. The frustration has to do with something that feels important to me, something I want to address, either about my relationship with her or her relationship with somebody else in the family whom I care about. I feel a responsibility, but I choose to have that responsibility.
So all of it is, on a certain level, a choice. Not having the frustrating conversation would feel like a pity, a missed opportunity to interact and relate with my mother about topics that are difficult. The frustration, when I say it was a frustrating conversation, is more like friction. I choose to bring a little bit of push, a different kind of energy, because I'm meeting an energy coming from her: she's going to push hard, push back, not listen, argue. That energy from me is well needed if I'm wanting an outcome. And I am in full, whole relationship with her. I'm loving being there. I love the situation I've chosen to be in, and I'm talking about something I care deeply about.
I leave that conversation feeling completely loving and gentle. There's no lingering frustration. The frustration I'm describing is the energy within the dynamic itself. Then we change the subject, it's lovely, we hug each other, there's a lot of love and appreciation, we say how much we love being together. It's very different from what I think I'm hearing from you, where something happens and then you think, "If I had to repeat this, I'm not sure I want to do it again." That is not my experience. It's very different.
I think this is a very nuanced discussion, so it's hard to get into the details. I can relate to needing to have that dynamic, but for me, having to go into frustration in order to match someone's energy is annoying because I don't like feeling that in my body. It has an effect on my body and my health. Having to do that in order to communicate with someone, when my preference is for communication that feels soft and loving most of the time. Of course, once in a while conflict comes up, and I'm okay with that. But if that's the prevailing dynamic, it's going to land for me as: this relationship takes energy I don't want to invest.
Look, I'm going to tell you what I'm telling you, and it can resonate, or you can take it or leave it. But I'm really hearing something, and my sense is that your current approach isn't healthy, isn't the path to more health, isn't the path to a deepening in health.
You're talking about things somatizing in your body, about bringing on and allowing uncomfortable feelings and sensations. To me, those feelings are not uncomfortable. They're not. But I know how it was in the past, until they became completely fluid. The avoidance is the part that's draining. The challenge of letting these energies flow is what's draining.
So what I'm hearing is that there's something here to dig into more deeply. It has to do with relationships, it has to do with how you're isolating, and at the core of it is something you feel in those relationships that is challenging in ways you haven't yet learned to meet in yourself. Avoiding them might be helpful as a way of pacing and coping, but it's not going to be an overall solution. The overall solution is: how can you be with what you feel, be more authentic, and navigate the feelings that come up as you do that? Because it's going to be challenging. It's going to be challenging for you to feel things you don't want to feel.
That's really how I started the conversation. I'm aware this needs more work. I guess I just feel stuck, like I've been addressing this topic for so long and I don't know what else to do.
You probably have, and you've come this far. You probably learned a lot. I'm just saying there's more there. One way to work with it is to take a lot of risk. To take more risk in those relationships. For example, with that friend, you could say, "Hey, I'm not feeling like listening to the problems you're sharing right now. I'm not in a place for that." That's just a simple example, but whatever feels like what you actually want in the moment. And it can't always be alone, because that's just avoidance. What do you really want from these relationships? If you were able to get what you wanted from them, what would that look like, and what would it require from you to create that?
Authenticity in the moment versus in hindsight
It's funny because a lot of what happened in our conversation yesterday was exactly that. I shared with her why I hadn't invited her over. I got into how it takes a lot of energy for me, that I might need to ask her to leave after a certain time, that I can only take so much, especially with my health and the emotional parts she brings. She said she was really grateful I shared that, and that she has a similar dynamic, which is why she doesn't always hang out with people either. It ended up being a really authentic and healing conversation.
But I do notice that specific part, when she's crying and talking about her problems, that's a stretch for me to say in the moment, "I can't handle this right now."
That's where I invite you to find the creativity, in that situation, to relate to it differently, in a way that is more toward what you want.
In the moment, I am feeling so open. That's why she appreciates hanging out with me. She always tells me she feels better, and it's because I am open: I'm not resisting, I'm not judging. It happens afterward, when my mind starts reflecting. Then it's like, "Why did my friend who came to help me end up dumping stuff onto me?" So it's not something I'm always aware of in the moment.
But that is happening because you're not aware of it in the moment. It's happening and it's unconscious. You're not fully in touch with what you're feeling.
I actually was aware of it. I just, on purpose, opened instead.
There you go. I thought you were saying you only knew afterward. But now you're telling me something different: you knew, but you chose on purpose to ignore it and do something else.
Let me clarify. Reflecting afterward is when I knew that a part of it didn't feel good. In the moment, I'm aware that something is a little off, but I don't think it's a problem. I'm choosing to allow it. Does that make sense?
That's where you ignored your intuition, and that's what I call inauthentic. Your intuition is saying, essentially, what I'm calling intuition at this moment is: what do I really want?
So how do I know the difference between an intuition I should listen to and speak up for, versus just a thought that can be let go, where my work is to deepen and release these judgments?
Learning by doing
The only way you know is like learning to surf, or whatever metaphor works for you. You can only know through exploring and experimenting. Over time, you will more and more refine that, and it will become clearer. There is no rule for knowing. It's like: how do I know when to move my leg to the left when I'm on the wave, or when to lean right on a bicycle? It's when you feel like you're falling. It's moment by moment. You will learn as you explore, and it requires practice.
But what's happening, which is exactly what I was intuiting from the beginning when I mentioned authenticity, is that you have a habit of choosing to be the one who listens, who offers nonjudgmental hearing. It's almost out of character for you to do something else. Is that right?
It's a good point, but I have both characters in me. There's the healer, the helper. I'm a coach; that's what I do for a living. I've been doing this my whole life for my family: holding space for their drama, but then also absorbing it, which is not good. And then there's the other part of me that has learned a lot about being authentic, communicating, having good boundaries, standing up for what I need. I have both sides. Some might even say I'm too aggressive at times.
Finding the middle path
You've learned two ways. Now you need to learn the middle way. Because if you're coaching and taking things on, that's not the right way of coaching. If things are coming at you that way, you're not coming from the right place. And this isn't black and white. When that happens more frequently, something isn't aligned. Something isn't clear in yourself, and that's why you're taking things on.
This part is totally unconscious to me because I don't ever feel like I'm taking it on. But I have all these health issues.
Right, you get the hangover from it. That's because you're not coming to those situations from a very clear place in yourself. You're taking things on because you're also getting something you need.
And on the other side, when you say you can be pretty harsh or direct, when you're talking about boundaries: boundaries are only really needed when you have to balance out something that's off in the other direction. If you find the middle path, you won't need boundaries, and you won't take things on. You will just be naturally doing what you want. One moment you'll be listening, and the next you'll want something else. You won't be listening when you don't want to, and you won't have to put up a boundary when you don't want something. You simply won't do it.
I've definitely experienced that. It's just not all the way. There are parts of me that feel clear and in this middle, and then there are parts that are still wobbly.
It has to do with authenticity, with you learning more and more deeply. Authenticity isn't a black-and-white thing. We can forever become more attuned and more authentic. What we're hearing about here is a deepening in authenticity, and it will require risk-taking on your end to step out of your habit, your comfort zone, and your known mechanisms of coping. If things work, you will likely feel difficult feelings: fear, sadness, grief, shame. I'm not sure which, but there's something in this whole dynamic that helps you avoid feeling.
I already feel all those feelings. The example I used was minor. In my other interactions, the fear and shame and the rest are always there. I'm always doing my best to navigate what the most authentic thing to say and do would be. I'm obviously not getting it right yet. But when I do say something that feels more authentic, I often feel like I'm pushing people away. Sometimes it goes well, but a lot of the time I'm risking pushing people away. Which I'm obviously okay with, since I'm alone most of the time anyway, but that's not achieving my goal.
The question to contemplate
Here's a question for you to contemplate. In this question of authenticity, what are the moments of not being fully authentic helping you avoid?
Losing the connection.
It's more of a feeling.
Rejection. Abandonment is what comes up.
Just contemplate this, because it needs to be an experience deeply felt. Those answers are quick, and they're probably correct, but they're very much from the mind.
Only because I've had this for so many years. I know it very well at this point.
You know it intellectually. You need to feel the thing.
I feel it.
There's something you're not feeling, because if you did, you wouldn't be struggling with it. It has to do with a certain kind of vulnerability that is probably difficult for you. There are probably feelings that are easy for you and some that are not. I'm inviting you to look at this: when you are pulled into less authentic relating, pulled by yourself, not by anyone else, what is it helping you avoid? Really try to find it in your feeling nature, not in your understanding. It will have to do with vulnerability, with being seen, maybe even in ways you don't want to be seen.
The somatic dimension
The weak, vulnerable part. I could definitely feel it more. But your suggestion about putting myself into these situations more is good in theory. Because it's so somatic, doing that drains me. I physically can't keep doing it.
It's somatic because you're not feeling it in your emotional, feeling body. That's why your body's somatic response is the reaction of the suppression and the contraction, which is just helping you not feel.
Right. I know all of this already. I know you're right.
And practice it. Don't frame it as "I'm not doing it right." There's just more. Everything you've done has worked, because it's gotten you this far.
Another participant mentioned some resources on this topic, about somatizing and taking on too much. I've done a lot of that work already.
It's very nuanced. There are parts that are saying no too much, which is the pushing people away. I feel like I've become really good at saying no, and now it's almost too much. And then there are parts that are still hiding, younger parts that still didn't say no and are still in there.
I invite you in the direction of more authenticity and vulnerability. Vulnerability is the heart of it. The question to keep asking is: what is the most vulnerable thing in this moment?
This is where I get confused. I've talked to you before about feeling like there's a lot of trauma work to do, and you've told me that's a distraction, that you didn't think I needed it. With the nondual lens, there's this infinite love and peace I can sink into, and I think that can become a mask for the other vulnerabilities I need to be feeling.
I don't remember the particular conversation or its context and nuance. But I can see how, depending on how trauma work is approached, it could be a distraction. What I'm saying is this: as you are able to relate and open very authentically and vulnerably, the parts of you that you've developed on both sides (the habit and the crutch, the way of coping) will find a middle path. That's where you'll discover the flow that is authentic and heartfelt. The energies that are becoming somatized will start moving, and you'll be feeling a lot more.
The playground for doing this work is your relationships and friendships. And if you end up doing some trauma work, that's great. And awakening through nonduality approaches, that's great too. But you will really see the benefit of all the work when you have authentic, enjoyable, close relationships, even if it's just two.
I agree. I've had that intuitive sense for a long time. It just hasn't been clear to me how to bridge the gap between the nondual truth of "everything's okay, there's no problem here, I am feeling love and peace" and the reality that there's still a lot to feel.
Why don't you bring this back after you've explored a little more in the direction of authenticity and vulnerability within your relationships.
Okay. Thank you.