Showing posts with label authentic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label authentic. Show all posts

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Being Conscious

I had a conversation with a guy at breakfast this morning about relationships. He is struggling with finding someone that he desires sexually while still having a mental connection with that person. I think that's a challenge for many that are looking for deeper meaning and connection in their relationships. It's harder to find that person that you have a connection with than the movies or books make it seem. But, that's not what this post is about... This post is about what you do after finding that connection.

Richard Bach's words provide some of my greatest inspirations. He has moved me and at times, inspired me to simply keep breathing. There is a quote from the movie, Shadowlands, that goes something along the lines of "we read to know that we are not alone." Whenever I pick up one of his works, I am reminded that I am not alone and that there are like-minded individuals out there. I have had the great pleasure of being able to hear him speak on two different occasions. One was at a book signing where he showed up an hour early and had an impromptu conversation with those of us who had gotten in line hours earlier. It's one of my very favorite memories. The other was at a seminar he was giving about spirituality. It was at this event that he spoke about soulmates.

In Richard Bach's early works, he has a relationship with with a woman named, Leslie Parrish-Bach. Their start is, well, rough. He talks about that in his book called, The Bridge Across Forever. You meet them as a couple again in One and Running From Safety. They didn't always have an easy time of it. They have differences of opinion and different ways of looking at and processing the world. But they worked at staying connected; and seeing each others authentic selves. They were an inspiration to me. Then, years later (after the book signing but before the seminar), a little book came out that gave me an upset stomach when I read it. It wasn't obvious but I had the distinct impression that they were no longer together. I was devastated. It felt like my own parents divorcing all over again. I felt angry at him for deceiving me, for assisting in my belief that it was possible to meet someone and make a relationship work. I felt betrayed by him and my own hopes. So, when I met him at the seminar, I was still a little bitter and confused. When it came time for open questions, I ask him what happened. In a nutshell, here was his response (paraphrased, and I'm sure, not nearly as beautifully as his original words, but you'll get the meaning): When you meet a "soulmate" or someone that you have a connection with, it's like looking in a mirror. If you allow other things to cloud that mirror, then you lose that connection. You stop seeing that person for who they are and what they need and without that, the bond is loosened.

In other words, or rather, how his words rolled around like marbles in my head and what I ultimately took away from it was this: When we meet someone that we're connected to, however you want to define it, it's like looking in the mirror and we see the best and worst of ourselves. Ideally, we see the best and we want to strive to be more than ourselves or more than we are in that moment - not because it's demanded or manipulated - but because we suddenly have the foundation and freedom to reach for something higher than we can reach on our own. We're all human and we all make mistakes but if we're being our authentic selves in those moments and in that dynamic, and we're looking at our authentic partner just exactly as they are without the desire to mold or change them into something we'd prefer, then we are maintaining that connection. We are nurturing that relationship and not allowing the "clouds" (in whatever form they take: another person, old childhood tapes, children, money, etc.) to stop us from staying connected. It takes work but if that connection is conscious and authentic, then it shouldn't be a hardship. I imagine that it would look more like an adventure in exploration.

Last December a friend sent me an email from an article that she had found (she didn't provide a link but if you're intrigued, email me and I'll be happy to forward to you what I have) that talked about having an authentic, conscious relationship with another person. The article basically says that too often we have too many "people" involved in our relationship - when, by definition, a relationship is about and between two people. We bring in our parents, our churches, our past partners and sometimes, actual physical people. In those situations, it's hard, if not impossible, to be our authentic selves and until we're conscious of how those previous and current relationships play a part in the dynamic that is our primary focus, we will never reach a state of true intimacy. The article really struck a chord with me. The basic point of it was not that you'll ever completely get rid of those influences because that's not possible, but instead, to first become aware of their influence and how they manifest in your life and then to find someone that allows you to look to them for support and help, not in order to be rescued; to be a complete, whole person to their complete, whole person. It's about being conscious.

So, back to my breakfast conversation, he was saying that his ex wanted him to change, when he had felt perfectly happy being exactly who he was. He had previously felt that he was "good enough" and had hoped to be accepted. I don't think he's alone in the world. On some level, all of us simply want to be accepted for ourselves, exactly as ourselves. But, I hear from many - both men and women - that they meet people who want to change them. I don't understand that, by the way. I've always entered a relationship thinking to myself - what you see is what you get and if you can't live with this now... then what's the point, really. I've never looked at a potential partner and thought "there's a flaw in this area, but "I'll work on that.""

Let me clarify, there is a difference between supporting someone in their own attempts at growth and change, provided it was something they originally wanted to do versus seeing a quality that you don't like and then attempting to mold it into something that you want it to be. There is also a difference in asking someone to treat you with respect by asking them not to do something that hurts or annoys you. For example, if your partner is always calling you "the little woman" in front of their friends and you don't like it, well, I think you're obligated to inform your partner that you don't like it. Then, if the behavior continues, it's really about respect - their respect and concern for you, which is a whole other issue.

There has recently been a Fifty Shades of Gray craze and although I love the book and found it highly entertaining, it does scare me a bit. There are HEAVY attempts and some success by Ana to change Mr. Gray from who he really is into what she wants him to be. He compromises giant chunks of himself in order to be with her and please her. It concerns me that popular culture finds this behavior to be so acceptable. In fact, when I was discussing this very fact with a group of women, one woman became very annoyed with me when I pointed out the unauthentic, unconscious, seriously co-dependent hehaviors in their dynamic. She jumped down my throat in order to inform me that I was completely wrong and that Mr. Gray wanted to change. Really?!?! Really?? Because he seemed pretty content to be exactly who he was and it wasn't until Ana began her emotional blackmail that he started his own morphing into something more desirable to her.

But I digress...

In my last relationship, I felt, for the first time in my life, many of the things that I mentioned above. It was theory tested and proven true. But, it takes two people to keep the mirror clear. It takes two people to feel the connection. And it absolutely takes two authentic people, who genuinely want that connection, to maintain a healthy relationship that's centered around growth, authenticity and consciousness. It's not always easy, and sometimes it can be a bit painful (growing usually is), but I still believe the effort and journey are worth it. I'm a complete person and I'm looking for someone who is also complete and who wants to share an adventure in exploration.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

L is for Love and Lisa

I couldn't decide on just one topic for this letter. Every time I'd start to compose this in my brain I'd end up on the other topic. Decide, okay, perhaps I'm meant to talk about that topic and find myself back at the original one. So, it felt important to write about both.

Love

Last year I fell in love with someone for the first time in 19 years. The second I saw him everything in me said, "YES!" I had been waiting for that feeling for a very long time. I can't say that I wholeheartedly trusted it... but I didn't deny it's existence.

My first love happened when I was 20 and I loved him fiercely and passionately but was never able to tell him (see B is for Bravery for reasons why). Oh, I told him that I adored him and that I thought he was amazing. But I could never say those three little words. They meant too much... they were too powerful. And, I don't trust love much. So when Smitty and I broke up, it was one of the things that I regretted... not saying how I felt.

Since then I hadn't met someone that drew me enough... that I wanted to spend that sort of time with... until Sean. My dynamic with him was 180 degrees from what I had with Smitty. With Smitty it was a flash fire, fast and intense, passionate and dramatic (oh the drama and fighting!)... and so quick to burn out. With Sean, I knew immediately that he was someone that I wanted to spend a lot of time with. Those voices in my head that ordinarily flash into the future and predict how the relationship will go were turned off. I was content to take it a day at a time; to simply enjoy the experience and see what happened. I felt I had nothing but time. I didn't want kids of my own (I knew I'd some day be a step-mom, there are few men my age that don't already have children) and I wasn't sure where I stood on the whole marriage concept... so there was no reason to rush. But, to quote Tori Amos, "I like rivers that rush in." So though emotionally things weren't moving quickly, for me at least, our lives together did. In some ways, things were very easy between us. We lived well together. We shared domestic duties well together. We didn't argue. We could have deep, intense conversations without feeling the need to change or convince the other person that our position was the correct one. Each of us are very good listeners and we both like to live life beneath the surface. In some ways, we were very alike and in others total opposite. For me, it was a nice balance. We didn't always have a lot in common to talk about but it meant that there was something new I could learn from him and also gave me the benefit of remaining close to my female friends because all my words weren't given to him. I still had more to talk about. He was strong, physically and emotionally, but also unafraid to cry. I liked that in him. It made me feel as though I didn't always have to be the strong one; that I could let go and surrender the need to control for a bit. The world wouldn't fall apart if I sat in the passengers' seat for a while. With Sean, I was slow to fall in love. Both of our lives were in flux and we were dealing with a lot of life changes. I wasn't 20 anymore... I was rapidly heading towards 40 and I looked at love in a way that wasn't about simple infatuation. We questioned at times whether there was enough passion in our lives. I think that aspect bothered him more than me. I saw it as lack of drama. I felt passion for him. I wanted to watch him because he amazed me, touch him because he turned me on, talk to him because he intrigued me and for me, that was passion... it just didn't come in that intense package. We were about 6 months into our relationship when it began to occur to me that I loved him. But because it was still fresh for me, I didn't say anything. I didn't trust my feelings and honestly, I didn't trust his. I didn't know where he stood where I was concerned and was afraid to ask those questions. And then he broke my heart. That story is not for here and not for this time. But I found myself finally telling him that I loved him on the last night we were together as a couple. It was... ironic.

Now I have the chance to open my heart again. Love for me has never been an easy emotion. It's wrapped up in all sorts of fears. Because of Smitty I wonder if the flash and burn is real... but because of Sean I question if I'm on the road alone. I don't know where to find the balance.

This new man is interesting and intelligent. He looks amazing on paper and I've enjoyed our conversations. Each relationship is different and always... always... a new dynamic is created between those particular individuals. I liked me with Sean and I grieve that loss of self. This new man is interested in me in a way that Sean never expressed and that's a bit scary. He lives a good ways from me so seeing him has, to date, not been possible. And, if the chemistry is there it would require leaving everything I moved back to Denver for behind again. That's scary, too. I'm still not sure I'm ready to take that leap.

I feel torn because Sean still holds pieces of me... but I feel the tug of this potential, too. I still want to say "YES!" to Sean but question whether that's possible and letting go is what is supposed to happen. What I do know is that I want to love and I want to live. Turns out that despite all the intimacy fears that I'd had between Smitty and Sean, I'm really good at relationships. Who would've thunk it?!?

Lisa

I've mentioned The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin... oh, about a hundred times, so it should come as no shock that I'm mentioning it again.  She talks a lot about "Be Gretchen." I've always felt that I've been pretty true to myself, that the image that I project is pretty authentic. But, "Be Gretchen" made me think about where I wasn't "Being Lisa." I have moments of "shoulding" all over myself. I "should" like this. I "should" not like that. I "should" be this and I "should" let go of that. Recently I gave away copies of all of Anne Rice's vampire books, plus, Violin, Pandora and one of the witches books. I had been carrying them around with me for about 17 years... including across the country - twice... and finally decided that I will NEVER read them. It's not my thing... and Anne Rice is not an author that appeals to me... and that's simply ok. I may never watch another movie that was made before 1970. I'm sure there are many that are brilliant... I just don't like them. I can't get inspired to watch "old" movies. And, that's ok. I'm starting to realize that it's perfectly acceptable that I have preferences and that doesn't make me close-minded, shallow or in any way limited. It's simply me... and it's okay to Be Lisa.

a mug I'd painted as a little reminder