In the first few years of our lives we are hungry for love, safety, and confirmation that we are wanted and valued – just for the very fact that we are here, that we exist. We search, from our very beginnings, for a reflection of ourselves, for information and reassurance about who we are. The quest for self begins in the beginning. Unfortunately we crave this mirroring long before we have the capacity to question the images presented to us. Again, unfortunately, we seldom, if ever, got a clear reflection. What we got instead were some fairground distortions that we believed wholeheartedly, because we had no other point of reference. We then proceeded to dress ourselves up, twist our postures and hide ourselves in an attempt to make us fit the way we believed we should look in order to get the love we craved. And when we grew up, this twisted and dressed up self is the bedrock on which we try to cultivate loving and fulfilling relationships.
Our unconscious beliefs about ourselves make themselves known to us as feelings - feelings happen in the body - by regularly looking there we begin to get to know who we really are.
The word Meditation has many implications and assumptions attached to it. Perhaps the one most firmly fixed is the idea that it is welded to some Eastern spiritual practice and that its main goal is the attainment of some unspecified and lofty transcendent state of being. Thankfully recent brain research has, in my view, successfully divorced the practice from this monogamous relationship and made it more practical and desirable.
For those of us in search of the truth of what it means to be human, an intimate relationship is the gold mine. In such a relationship the veins of reality run deep into the earth.
Somewhere hidden beneath the topsoil of out ‘personalities or egos or strategic selves, whatever we want to call them, lies the truth about ourselves. While we dig the earth of intimacy, turning over the familiar sods that we have so often done before, the hard rock of our being sits there, untilled and unmoved by our repetitive cultivation. Then we wonder why our crops are stunted and eventually wither away, most often leaving us still hungry.
Below is an email from one the participants of the intimate relationships workshops. It's an email he wrote after an argument he recently experienced with his partner. It’s a great example of how the concepts discussed and practiced in the sessions manifest in reality. This Participant is anonymous but has given permission for this to be posted, as an example for all to learn from. Below is the email. Some of the details such as “Chicken sandwich incident” will not make sense to readers because it has a history and a pattern and maybe will be further discussed in future blogs. It gives a great example of how the workshops help relationships.