When the tensions build in our relationships, when we find ourselves being offhand and unresponsive, when we finally explode and argue with our loved ones—to prove that it’s their fault and never our own, that they are in the wrong, that we are the victim—is this the beginning of the end or another invitation to go ever deeper?
This bunch of thoughts and feelings that have usurped our identity needs to be right; to be wrong is to be utterly humiliated, a kind of a death. But who we really are has nothing to fear, no need to be right, no image to uphold or protect. We are like the page on which these words appear; that gives them their substance, their very reality; that remains as it is, whatever drama the story may express.
As that deep recognition, like a healing balm, seeps into all areas of our life, a new possibility opens up: the possibility to see some truth in what we’re being told, to see exactly where we’re still pretending, where we still misunderstand, where we’re still rejecting ‘uncomfortable’ feelings and wanting life to be different to the way it is.
How incredible, how inspiring, in the heat of battle to see our mis-take, to lay down our weapons and offer our heart; to fully embrace the energy of the moment as it incinerates all positions, all protection, all boundaries between ‘me’ and ‘you’ leaving us wide open.
And in that openness, that pure intimacy, to see my true face in your face, my true eyes in your eyes, and our troubles dissolve away like rain drops on a river of love.