Conscious Committment
Written by Johnathan
Wellwood
Page 2
This evoked Diane's empathy. It also aroused some uncomfortable feelings and
uncertainties on her part. However, by creating a space together in which to
share the pain and difficulty of their situation, along with their deepest fears, they
grew closer than they had since the birth of their baby. Indeed, those feelings that at
first seem most threatening can actually promote deeper intimacy, provided that both
partners are able to accommodate and share them openly More typically in relationships,
one partner shuts down when the other expresses difficult feelings. Grant had fallen in
love with Teresa after sharing some very warm and open moments together. Yet, as they grew
closer, Teresa's old fears about intimacy began to surface. When she tried to tell Grant
about them, he felt angry and disappointed; but instead of letting her know how he felt,
he distanced himself from her and nursed his anger in private. As a result, they began to
grow apart.
What Grant did not realize was that communicating about obstacles to intimacy
can itself be a vital form of intimacy. After some counseling, he began to see that if he
wanted greater intimacy, he would have to make room not only for Teresa's fears, but also
for his own responses to them. Eventually, he was able to share his honest feelings with
her: "When you get scared and pull back, I feel tremendously sad and disappointed.
I'm afraid I'm losing a love that is really healing to me." This sparked Teresa's
empathy, invited her to share her fears, and drew her close to her partner again. When two
people
accommodate their feelings in this way, they gain confidence in including the
whole of themselves in their relationship. This naturally increases their sense of
commitment. Including all of ourselves in a relationship means walking a thin line,
neither suppressing who we are nor indulging our habitual patterns. All too often, we
assume that we must bend ourselves out of shape to fit into a relationship. One might
think, for instance, "Now that I am married, I shouldn't feel longings for
independence, for being alone, or for other deep, intimate friendships." In reality,
no matter how committed a person is to a relationship, he or she will continue to feel
desires to be alone as well as attractions to other people. If we try to eliminate such
feelings, they may only haunt us and cause us to view the relationship as a prison. Or
they may suddenly erupt as an irresistible desire to run off and have an affair. When
commitment becomes a glue that keeps us stuck in a single mode of feeling, we cannot help
but experience the urge to break free of it.
Beware of critic stories! One habitual pattern that is particularly
destructive occurs when we interpret certain feelings as a sign that something is wrong
with us. At these times, we give in to our "critic"-that scolding, attacking
inner voice that tells us we are never good enough and, just to prove the point, contrives
ominous stories that serve as self-fulfilling prophecies. An essential task for couples,
then, is to distinguish these fictional narratives, mental fabrications, and judgments
from the real feelings that gave rise to them. Those who are able to make this distinction
will be better prepared to work directly with their difficult emotions and less likely to
be misled or intimidated by gloom-and-doom stories.
Peter's nagging belief-that because he felt so much conflict about his new baby, he must
be a horrible person-is an example of a story told by the critic. In truth, Peter's
feeling of being overwhelmed did not mean that something was wrong with him; it was simply
a signal to pay attention to some
pressing needs. Diane could have made up a critic story as well, perhaps concluding that
Peter was unreliable and that their marriage was in danger. Such a story would have
prevented her from hearing Peter's explanation. Moreover, had she blamed him for his
feelings, she would have further
activated his critic and set in motion a sequence of events that might well have led to
the disastrous conclusion she imagined.
Because a relationship inevitably brings our habitual patterns to the surface, it is easy
to start attacking ourselves or blaming our partner for the powerful emotions that are
released. However, we need to remember that when difficult feelings arise, they do not
indicate that something is wrong with us. Feeling anger does not mean that I am an
aggressive person. Feeling vulnerable does not mean that I am weak. Feeling fear about
giving does not mean that I am hopelessly selfish. If we can see the volatility of our
feelings as a sign that a relationship is deeply affecting us and shaking loose some old
habitual patterns, then we can let the feelings arise and pass through us without
condemning ourselves for having them.
As two lovers work with what comes up between them, a real trust starts to blossom. Then
they can say, with honesty and humor, I have seen your tricks, and I want to go forward
with you, including all of that." This kind of trust is different from the naive
faith of "Because we love each other, I know you'll never hurt me." Genuine
trust develops between two people not because everything about them is trustworthy, but
because they can work with all the different parts of themselves, including those that are
not trustworthy.
As commitment grows, it turns into an alchemical vessel in which all the personality
patterns that cloud our full, radiant expression can be held and healed within love's
larger embrace. The healing comes about through the heat of the connection, which
transforms these patterns into the gold of authentic being. Flashes of this gold, first
glimpsed in the initial rush of love, may now shine through more brightly
* Going beyond "me first." Intimate relationships always ask us to give up
something we cherish: certain favorite privacies, preferences, or ways of staying secure.
They require us to take a leap beyond our usual style of defending our personal
territory, to come out of hiding and leave behind old egocentric attitudes and behaviors.
Going beyond a "me first" attitude involves taking a leap-letting
go of my primary preoccupation with getting my own needs met at all costs. When I let go
in this way, I become less demanding, my concern for my partner's well-being expands, and
I become more sensitive to the needs of the relationship as a whole. In moving beyond what
feels personally safe and comfortable I begin to cast in my lot with my partner. I am no
longer the sole center of my life.
When a child is born, a couple is called upon to take an even more difficult step-to go
beyond "us first." They are asked to relinquish many of their shared pleasures
in order to care for their child's needs. It is no wonder that partners immersed in the
early years of parenting sometimes question what they are doing. A healthy response to
this kind of questioning is to go back, reexamine the reasons for being together, and
reaffirm the dedication to opening more fully to life through the relationship. One couple
I know, whose baby suddenly developed a serious illness requiring many years of intensive
care, found their love and commitment deepening during this crisis.
* Developing a vision and making a choice. The more two people help each other work with
whatever challenges arise, the more they appreciate how much their connection serves their
mutual unfolding. This helps them develop a vision of what they are doing together-which
in turn allows them to make a clear, conscious choice to be together.
Oddly enough, many people marry without ever consciously choosing to be in a committed
relationship; they remain in the marriage halfheartedly, forever fin ing reasons for
complaint and dissatisfaction. How important it is to see clearly what commitment involves
and, if that is what we want, to choose it as a way of life. Then, whatever difficulties
arise can become part of the journey rather than cause to complain or bail out.
In earlier times, society and family defined the man-woman relationship. Now, each couple
must forge their own vision to guide and inspire them to keep moving forward. A vision
that develops out of testing the relationship and seeing how two lovers can further each
other's unfolding forms a much stronger bond than any hope or obligation. Vision and
conscious choice give us strength to keep going, even when our courage or confidence may
wane.
The Journey of Commitment
Conscious commitment is a pact between beings, not between personalities. In effect, my
partner and I say to each other, "Whatever problems our personalities have together,
we will not let them come between us. If our egos are at war, we will not let that ruin
our deeper connection; we will always come back and meet on this deeper level. We will
help each other wake up and become all that we can be. We will keep opening to each other
and to life itself in and through this relationship."
Without such an alliance between our beings, our egos will surely conspire to perpetuate
old habitual patterns, and the container we create may become a prison or a hollow shell.
Conscious commitment is to being together, not just staying together.
Above all, it is important not to be too idealistic about this journey-not to force
anything on ourselves, or pretend to be ahead of where we really are. Approaching
commitment as a "should" will only hurl us into unconsciousness and set us up
for difficulties or failures. Those of us who undertake this journey are having to learn
something new: how to let commitment evolve naturally, through many ups and downs, and
numerous steps forward and back. Uncertainty about whether we can handle the
challenges along the way is not a
problem, for it is part of the path itself. We can take heart in the words of Chogyam
Trungpa, a Tibetan teacher who was once asked how he managed to escape the Chinese
invasion and trek across the snowbound Himalaya, with little preparation and no assurance
of the route or the outcome. His reply was brief: "One foot after the other."