relationships
Why do human beings find relationships so hard? Many of the difficulties we experience in life come directly from our relationships-not just with our mates, but with our parents, children, teachers, bosses, friends. In short, with virtually anyone from whom we want something. This is a key point; almost all of our relationship difficulties come from wanting something or someone to be different. Considering the amount of suffering that arises from relationships, it’s surprising that the Buddha didn’t include them in his list of the primary causes of suffering, along with sickness, old age, and death. One thing is certain: relationships, like serious illnesses, push us right to the edge of where we’re stuck. Stephen Levine has noted that relationship, though not the easiest method for finding peace, is certainly the most effective for discovering what blocks it.
The fact that relationships often bring the most painful and unhealed aspects of our life out of the shadows makes them a potentially powerful teacher. But let’s be honest, who actually wants such a teacher? What do we really want from relationships? We want what we want! We want someone to fulfill our needs, someone who will make us feel good, give us security, appreciation, affection, and love. We also want our relationships, at least in part, to mask our core pain: the anxious quiver of being that cries out for relief. But the more we rely on our relationships to either gratify our needs or assuage our pain, the more we solidify our suffering. Another person can never heal our core pain; we can only do that for ourselves. But that doesn’t keep us from asking others to do it. And when we don’t get what we want, the messiness of relationship begins.
As soon as a conflict arises and we feel threatened in some way, we tend to forget all about relationships as a vehicle of awakening. We tenaciously hold on to our views, judgments, and need to be right. We protect and defend our self-image. We close down or lash out. And, believing in all these reactions as the unquestioned truth, we perpetuate our suffering. As we continue to do this, the disappointment we cause ourselves and others becomes a pain we can’t ignore. That’s the beauty of relationships as spiritual practice. The pain motivates us to awaken; disappointment is often our best teacher. This is when practice can really begin. But this view of relationship is very different from what we have been taught.
We were taught that relationships are supposed to give us security or save us. We usually assume that they’re supposed to make us feel good through being supported, appreciated, loved, nurtured, or pleasured. We imagine that being in a relationship will relieve us of our loneliness.
That’s how we approach relationships. Based on these expectation, requirements, and desires, we want something. We need, or think we need, the other person to BE a certain way, or to make US feel a certain way-safe, happy, or whatever. “I care for you” often means “I need you.” We care for others as long as they satisfy our particular need, as long as they make us feel some special way. That’s the set up.
(to be continued)
from: At Home in the Muddy Water: A guide to finding peace within everyday chaos, by Ezra Bayda
relationships
Why do human beings find relationships so hard? Many of the difficulties we experience in life come directly from our relationships-not just with our mates, but with our parents, children, teachers, bosses, friends. In short, with virtually anyone from whom we want something. This is a key point; almost all of our relationship difficulties come from wanting something or someone to be different. Considering the amount of suffering that arises from relationships, it’s surprising that the Buddha didn’t include them in his list of the primary causes of suffering, along with sickness, old age, and death. One thing is certain: relationships, like serious illnesses, push us right to the edge of where we’re stuck. Stephen Levine has noted that relationship, though not the easiest method for finding peace, is certainly the most effective for discovering what blocks it.
The fact that relationships often bring the most painful and unhealed aspects of our life out of the shadows makes them a potentially powerful teacher. But let’s be honest, who actually wants such a teacher? What do we really want from relationships? We want what we want! We want someone to fulfill our needs, someone who will make us feel good, give us security, appreciation, affection, and love. We also want our relationships, at least in part, to mask our core pain: the anxious quiver of being that cries out for relief. But the more we rely on our relationships to either gratify our needs or assuage our pain, the more we solidify our suffering. Another person can never heal our core pain; we can only do that for ourselves. But that doesn’t keep us from asking others to do it. And when we don’t get what we want, the messiness of relationship begins.
As soon as a conflict arises and we feel threatened in some way, we tend to forget all about relationships as a vehicle of awakening. We tenaciously hold on to our views, judgments, and need to be right. We protect and defend our self-image. We close down or lash out. And, believing in all these reactions as the unquestioned truth, we perpetuate our suffering. As we continue to do this, the disappointment we cause ourselves and others becomes a pain we can’t ignore. That’s the beauty of relationships as spiritual practice. The pain motivates us to awaken; disappointment is often our best teacher. This is when practice can really begin. But this view of relationship is very different from what we have been taught.
We were taught that relationships are supposed to give us security or save us. We usually assume that they’re supposed to make us feel good through being supported, appreciated, loved, nurtured, or pleasured. We imagine that being in a relationship will relieve us of our loneliness.
That’s how we approach relationships. Based on these expectation, requirements, and desires, we want something. We need, or think we need, the other person to BE a certain way, or to make US feel a certain way-safe, happy, or whatever. “I care for you” often means “I need you.” We care for others as long as they satisfy our particular need, as long as they make us feel some special way. That’s the set up.
(to be continued)
from: At Home in the Muddy Water: A guide to finding peace within everyday chaos, by Ezra Bayda