Real Love

by Sharon Salzberg

  In the past, Yvonne had always fallen for tall, handsome, and powerful but withholding men. Alejandro, on the other hand, was shortish, pudgy, nurturing, and playful. And though his interest in her was keen, Yvonne had long delayed getting involved with him because he didn’t fit her “type.” Then one day she got lost—literally.

  Yvonne had a terrible sense of direction, and getting lost had always been a problem. This brain glitch of hers was so severe that she got lost even when using her GPS. Her previous boyfriends had been critical and insulting when she called them from the road, so she was afraid to telephone Alejandro, whom she had started dating despite her initial resistance. Since she’d been driving around in an increasing frenzy for more than half an hour trying to find his house, she finally broke down and called.

  “Pull over as soon as you can,” Alejandro advised. Even after she stopped the car, she was still agitated, waiting for a negative putdown. “I love you,” Alejandro assured her. “Just tell me where you are.” He found Yvonne’s location and guided her turn by turn, staying on the line the whole time. When she arrived at his house, he greeted her with a loving embrace and dinner on the table.

  Being welcomed this way came as a shock to Yvonne, who was used to being with men who regarded her vulnerability with disgust. But Alejandro made her feel cherished and safe. He loved her for the person she was, not for some idea of the person he thought she should be. And Yvonne, too, came to love him for the person he was, leaving behind her romantic ideal.

  When we identify the thoughts that keep us from seeing others as they truly are, instead of hoping they’ll magically live up to some idealized image, we prepare the ground for real love.

  SET AN INTENTION

  IN RECENT YEARS, many teachers and therapists have been talking about relationship as a path of awakening. This vision of love is not confined to achieving psychological wholeness; looked at in this way, personal connection becomes a spiritual practice.

  In Embracing the Beloved, authors Stephen and Ondrea Levine wrote: “If another person is the most important thing in your life, then you’re in trouble and they’re in trouble because they become responsible for your suffering. But if consciousness is the most important thing in our lives and relationship is a means toward that end … Ah! then we are approaching paradise. We are approaching the possibility of actually becoming a human being before we die.”

  The place to begin is with intention, say the Levines: “When one commits to practices that clear the mind and expose the heart—such as mindfulness, forgiveness and loving kindness—what once seemed unworkable may well become the very center of the relationship … Our intention itself has considerable healing potential.”

  And so we begin with an intention: to stay open to the present, available to curiosity and awe, and to pay attention to the beings the universe sends our way, knowing that we might come to deeply cherish them.

  CHAPTER 11 PRACTICES

  Attention

  Feelings of apathy as they relate to our relationships often stem from insufficiently paying attention to those around us. Remember: everyone we interact with has the capacity to surprise us in an infinite number of ways. What can first open us up to each of our innate capacities for love is merely to recognize that.

  But how?

  This exercise is about finding creative ways to pay attention to our relationships with greater intention—to open up, to cultivate curiosity, to recognize the infinite potential to feel awe in our lives.

  1. Start by paying attention to each of your interactions with more focus. Notice if the intentions you bring to different interactions vary depending on who it is you are engaging with. Are you more closed off to some? Carrying certain assumptions with others? Try to notice any urges, expectations, yearnings, and judgments you may have as they come up. You don’t have to push them away, but recognize how they might be affecting your perspective.

  2. Within each interaction you have, try to notice something surprising, or to try a new mode of interacting. Maybe you had never made such deliberate eye contact with a given person before—and doing so makes you see them in a new way. Perhaps you tend toward steering conversations with friends; maybe you commit to practicing more restraint, allowing your friend to take the lead. You may find you see your friend in a new light.

  3. Consider the following open-ended questions to ask friends, family members, significant others, and acquaintances. Surely there are some situations that may not be ideal for these questions, but even considering in your own head how different individuals may answer them can help us sustain a sense of curiosity.

  Questions:

  ■   What’s one of your most poignant memories from childhood?

  ■   Is there a certain poem, piece of music, or work of art you’ve encountered that has moved you in a memorable way?

  ■   What experiences do you associate with each of the seasons?

  ■   Have you ever had a job you don’t often think about?

  ■   What’s your favorite time of day?

  ■   Who was the person you felt closest to during your early childhood? Adolescence?

  ■   Where in the world do you feel warmest and safest?

  ■   How do you relax?

  Asking questions is an opportunity for creativity and personal expression, both for the person asking and the person answering. Feel free to come up with some of your own questions to help bring more attention and curiosity to your interactions, but make sure to recognize your intentions consistently. Resolve to bring more mindfulness to the connection between your larger aspiration to find deeper connection and awe in your relationships at large, and the small gestures that comprise your everyday encounters.

  Meditation: Lovingkindness toward a benefactor and friends

  We start with offering lovingkindness to someone who has been of help to us. This person is known as a benefactor—maybe it’s someone who’s been directly generous to us or kind to us, or maybe they’ve inspired us even though we’ve never met them. They symbolize the power of love for us. The benefactor is the one who when we think of them, we smile. It could be an adult, a child, a pet.

  As you call to mind a benefactor, you can get an image of them, say their name, and begin to offer the phrases of lovingkindness to them. “May you be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease.”

  Then, after some time, move on to offering lovingkindness to a friend. You can start with a friend who’s doing well right now. They’re enjoying success or good fortune in some aspect of life. You can get an image of them, say their name to yourself, and offer the phrases of lovingkindness to them: “May you be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease.”

  And then a friend who’s having difficulty right now, they’re experiencing some kind of loss, or pain, or fear; bring them to mind. Get a feeling for their presence, as though they were right in front of you, and offer the phrases of lovingkindness to them.

  You can end the sitting with a spontaneous offering of lovingkindness to whoever comes to mind.

  12

  AUTHENTIC COMMUNICATION

  PLAYWRIGHT LILLIAN HELLMAN FAMOUSLY SAID, “People change and forget to tell each other.” Though I’m guessing she made that comment with tongue pressed firmly against cheek, it contains a priceless nugget of truth. When we don’t tell those we love about what’s really going on or listen carefully to what they have to say, we tend to fill in the blanks with stories. For example, we might conclude that a friend who appears sullen or distracted is angry with us, when in fact she’s depressed or overwhelmed. Or we might worry that our partner doesn’t love us anymore when he seems to snap at us for no reason, only to discover that he’s terrified of being downsized from his job and is afraid to tell us.

  Very often in close relationships, the subject being discussed is not the subject at all. As psychologist Virginia Satir put it, “The problem is not the problem; coping is the problem.”

&nbs
p; So how do we identify what’s really going on between us and those we love? How do we train ourselves to communicate the truth of our experiences and listen without judgment to theirs? How do we avoid falling into the trap of repetitive, predictable, and frustrating patterns of communication and behavior?

  From both a Buddhist and Western psychological perspective, the place to start is with kindness. This may sound simplistic, but studies conducted at the Gottman Institute in Washington State confirm kindness as the key predictor of successful marriages. Although many people regard kindness as a nice general quality, it’s not generally perceived as the cornerstone of healthy relationships.

  But setting the intention to practice kindness toward one’s partner or family members or friends does not preclude getting angry or upset. It doesn’t mean sugarcoating the truth. Practicing kindness is about getting real, but in ways that are constructive and support the growth of the relationship. As Julie Gottman, co-founder of the Gottman Institute, said in an interview with The Atlantic, “Kindness doesn’t mean that we don’t express our anger, but the kindness informs how we choose to express the anger. You can throw spears at your partner. Or you can explain why you’re hurt and angry, and that’s the kinder path.”

  My friend Carolyn recently reminded me that she and her partner consulted a therapist early in their relationship to deal with conflicts arising from the frequent presence of Carolyn’s ex, with whom she shared custody of her son. At the end of the first session, the therapist remarked that she believed the couple would be successful in resolving their difficulties because they exhibited such “goodwill” toward one another. In other words: kindness. That was thirty-five years ago.

  Kindness is not a fixed trait that we either have or lack, but more like a muscle that can be developed and strengthened. We exercise kindness in any moment when we recognize our shared humanity—with all the hopes, dreams, joys, disappointments, vulnerability, and suffering that implies. Such simple but profound awareness levels the playing field. We are all humans doing the best we can.

  SELF-DISCLOSURE AND NON-JUDGMENTAL LISTENING

  IN CONSCIOUS RELATIONSHIPS, we set the intention to investigate the old stories we tell ourselves and our habits of thinking and behavior. Practically speaking, this means that we take responsibility for our actions and reactions, as well as for defensive strategies such as withdrawing, keeping secrets, or blaming someone else for our suffering.

  “People thrive in a climate of 100% accountability, where nobody blames or claims victim status,” explain relationship experts Kathlyn and Gay Hendricks in a blog post for The Huffington Post. “From this empowered position, problems can be solved quickly, because time and energy are not squandered in a fruitless attempt to find fault.”

  Taking responsibility for oneself is by definition an act of kindness. Yet, though 100 percent accountability is a worthy ideal, we’re imperfect beings, and at times, it may take some struggle to get there. My friend Jonah, a committed meditator, told me about an experience he had with his best friend, Peter. Ever since they met in college, the two men have been like brothers, sharing just about everything. In fact, most people who meet them for the first time assume that Jonah and Peter are brothers. They even look alike. What’s more, their birthdays are two days apart, and they always celebrate together. Last year, however, when Jonah phoned Peter to make a plan, Peter dodged the subject, claiming he was too busy to think about it, and promised to get back to Jonah the next day. But after not hearing from Peter for a week, Jonah called him and was shocked and hurt to learn that Peter’s new boyfriend had invited him to go skiing the week of their birthdays—and that Peter had accepted, without telling Jonah.

  Jonah’s mindfulness went right out the window. He flew into a rage, accusing Peter of deliberately deceiving him, then slammed down the phone. Peter, aware that he’d behaved thoughtlessly, called Jonah several times to make amends, but Jonah refused to pick up or return Peter’s calls. Finally, Peter waited outside Jonah’s building for his friend to get home from work and followed him inside.

  He apologized profusely, admitting that he’d been afraid to share his plans with Jonah for fear of upsetting him. Instead of telling the truth, Peter had avoided confrontation and disappeared—a strategy he’d adopted as a kid when his alcoholic father went on one of his rampages. For his part, Jonah acknowledged that Peter’s behavior triggered old feelings of being unseen and unimportant in his large family. Though painful, the conversation proved healing for both men. Not only did they come up with an alternative plan to celebrate their birthdays, they agreed that a conflict that could have destroyed the friendship ended up deepening their bond.

  “As tough as it was at first to open up, being vulnerable and saying what was true made all the difference,” reflects Jonah. “Peter and I both came through trusting that if we can be honest and keep it real, even when it’s hard, our friendship will survive just about anything.”

  In their book And Baby Makes Three, psychotherapists and Gottman Institute co-founders John and Julie Gottman describe good communication between partners when issues arise—which I think applies to dear friends, as well: “They ask, ‘Is there a story behind this for you, maybe some childhood history that makes this so crucial for you?’ They want to uncover not just the topmost feelings, but the deeper layers as well.”

  LIVING WITH YOUR TEACHER

  WHEN WE LIVE together in a committed relationship, we live with our teacher, says George Taylor, a therapist who specializes in working with couples. “We’re tested daily, and every day we have the opportunity to meet our own resistance and reactivity. Moment to moment, what’s going on inside us is reflected in our body language and our response to our partner, and vice versa. We’re incredible mirrors for each other.”

  The good news, Taylor adds, is that we’re highly trainable. “In my own marriage as well as in my work with couples, I’ve seen how paying attention to our often unconscious reactions and judgments enables us to choose to respond differently. Even small moments of mindfulness can be powerfully transformational.”

  When we are willing to explore our own experiences, we open the doorway to deeper connection and intimacy, he explains. We grow to love and appreciate our partner for who she or he truly is, and he or she loves and appreciates us for who we are, unmasked and whole. In the light of one another’s gaze, we are seen.

  Daniella and Rayne fell in love and married on a California beach in 2010. After the Supreme Court upheld same-sex marriage legislation in 2015, the couple held a second ceremony to legalize their union. But by then, their relationship had been tested nearly to the breaking point.

  That happened after they decided to open a café together. Although both women had previously run businesses, only Daniella had restaurant experience. Still, the early dreaming phases in which the couple experimented with recipes and envisioned their café inspired them both and brought them closer. It wasn’t until they signed a lease that they began to fight over every decision. Daniella is wildly creative but has difficulty limiting her options, while Rayne has ADHD and gets flustered when things don’t happen quickly. They reached a crossroads when it became clear that either they could continue to be enraged by each other’s quirks and deficiencies, or they could embrace them and help each other grow. They consciously opted for the latter path.

  Now, says Rayne, “We reflect on how much we’ve accomplished together.”

  Adds Daniella, “If there are any struggles, we try to do better. We’re constantly trying to learn more about ourselves. Our life together has been a complete eye-opening rebirth.”

  Although much of the work we do in committed relationships we do with our partners, sometimes it’s necessary to start with ourselves.

  Clara learned this during a difficult passage in the seventh year of her marriage to James, when their two children were young. She’d left her job to care for them, and most days she was content. But often, by the end of the day when she was feeling tired an
d the children were cranky, she resented her husband, especially his TV habit.

  Every night when he got home from work, he’d grab the dinner she’d made for him and plant himself in front of the TV. Clara felt angry and frustrated by his lack of interest in her. She worried that their marriage had reached an unhappy stalemate, and it was clear that James felt it, too. One night when she greeted him after work with her usual scowl, he remarked, “Just once I’d like to come home to someone who was happy to see me.”

  That statement went straight to Clara’s heart. She didn’t want to hurt James, yet she wasn’t sure how to handle her distress. Then she remembered the practice for working with difficult emotions that we reviewed in section 1: RAIN—Recognition, Acknowledgment, Investigation, and Non-Identification. (Detailed instructions are here.)

  Clara began with Step 1, Recognize, and let herself fully experience her feelings. She stood in the doorway looking on as James watched TV. She noticed that her arms were tightly crossed, with one hip pressed against the doorjamb in a closed, angry posture. Staring at her husband, she thought, He doesn’t give a damn about me. Before they had kids, things were different. Sometimes Clara would put on music and dance with James; sometimes they’d sit and talk. Usually these thoughts raced through her mind, unnoticed and unchallenged. But when she stopped to recognize them, as well as the bitterness and self-pity wrapped up in them, she experienced a startling moment of awareness.

  Sitting in the kitchen, Clara moved on to Step 2, Acknowledge. She acknowledged how sad she was to have such negative, unloving thoughts about James, while also acknowledging how lonely and taken for granted she felt. She missed her job, too. She didn’t regret her choice to stay home, but she allowed herself to feel how much she longed for aspects of her professional life that had given her joy.