While I attended Naropa Institute (now Naropa University) in Boulder, Colorado, during the early 80's, I had the good fortune to take a class in the Health and Healing department with Dr. Chana Frank, titled, "Being with Others." During the introductory session, Dr. Frank confessed that the class should really be titled, "Working With Ourselves," but she doubted whether anyone would have been very eager to enroll under that title.
Needless to say, I learned much about working with myself as well as others throughout the course. But one of the guiding philosophic points was this: our relationships with others are directly proportionate to those we have with ourselves.
When I first heard this (and they reminded us of this often at Naropa), I felt a familiar sense of discomfort intermingled with that proverbial, "Aha!" experience that arises when a personal truth is recognized. I realized that this was the essence to both positive and negative relationships in my life. What is all too often forgotten, however, is that we usually learn and grow more from our negative experiences.
Just yesterday, I was having a "coffee date" with a man who said that we remember the negative more clearly than the positive as a self-preservation device. Am I off the hook?! Here I thought that I remembered the negative because I needed an attitude adjustment, or as I hear more and more often: "She's got issues..."
But when-and if-we do learn from our "mistakes", don't they cease to exist as such and become valuable lessons instead? When our experiences repeat themselves (sometimes ad nauseum), do they become habitual patterns which entangle us in a sticky situation where we are the proverbial spider, fly and web? Or, can we view them as welcome reminders for which we "should" be grateful?
Breaking free of habituated relationship patterns is not easy. To illustrate this point, about 15 years ago, I was involved with a man who would "ration" our time together. His reasoning was that if he didn't do this, I-not he-would become "too attached".
Needless to say, it didn't work then and it hasn't worked for me lately, either. Although I try to play by the "mutually- agreed-upon-rules", my heart often says, "what rules? I don't remember hearing about or agreeing to any rules!"
Clearly, a relationship is a matter of growing together, becoming spiritually, emotionally, and physically intimate. Certainly, it means that a commitment from both partners in the relationship is needed. Ironically, I have found myself in similar scenarios where I was the one in control of the rationing. In one such instance, we discussed this openly. I told the man with whom I was involved that I was consciously controlling my feelings through time-rationing. I remember he smiled and said, "that's fine with me. Now I don't have to do it."
What is similar about these relationships is that I have finally realized that I am as much motivated by fear of intimacy as a desire to remain single. And yet--the still prevalent "social dictate" to couple has powerful persuasive influences on my decision process.
As a Feminist (or a post-post-feminist, whatever you prefer), I feel supported (by my Feminist community) to remain single. Having more choices than our mothers or grandmothers, gives us the freedom to find fulfillment outside of our relationships. Regardless, I must admit that I cannot help but wonder what my coupled friends have that may be missing in my own life. When included in "couple" activities, I often feel like the proverbial third wheel. When excluded with polite but emphatic commentary along the lines of, "Gee, Terrie, We'd invite you, but it's a couples' thing," I feel very alone. And yet at the same time, I also feel very free to fill my time any way I choose-without having to "check-in" with my partner's real or imagined plans.
In the final analysis, we are the only ones capable of meeting our own needs, and we cannot expect others to do so for us. When we understand this fundamental precept, I believe that we can expect to enter into a healthy, functional-- and potentially blissful-- relationship with another human being.
