Fix you

I have been contemplating the whole ‘connecting with my needs’ thing for two weeks now and the one thing that’s been really bugging me is the (for me) logical question of “what next?”.

So I am in touch with my feelings and the underlying need but what do I do with it then?

To me the logical next step was all about how to then get that need met and I’ve been analysing whether or not I’m entitled to expect someone else to meet my needs or whether and if so, how much, I’m responsible to meet my own needs.

I haven’t quite found an answer to that particular question but I now moved on to a different question: do all of our needs need to be met?

I remember the trainer who did the non-violent communication training saying something about it sometimes being enough to just acknowledge a need and the fact that it is unmet.

Well, that didn’t really appeal to me. Patience isn’t one of my strengths and I tend to go after what I want with quite some determination.

And yet, during a conversation I had tonight with some Dharma friends via Skype about dealing with negative emotions etc. it really struck a chord with me when someone said that it all comes down to being alert, mindful and aware.

I’m not saying “don’t go after your dreams” or “don’t try and get your needs met” – I wouldn’t do that, trust me – but maybe (just maybe) sometimes loving yourself means simply noticing and acknowledging what’s there and showing yourself some empathy and compassion.

Maybe it isn’t always about fixing things.

Foreboding love

Remember me proudly announcing that I don’t need to be with Tony but choose to be with him? How it’s so important to remember impermanence and not make false promises of security or stability in relationships?

Well, I’ve been analysing that a bit recently…

I realised that I need to constantly assert my independence and stress these beliefs in order to convince myself. I desperately need to believe this to be true in order to feel protected in case the worst-case scenario happened.

Brene Brown calls this ‘foreboding joy’. It means that one protects oneself from fully experiencing the uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure of joy by assuming the worst.

In my case, I think it’s more appropriate to speak of ‘foreboding love’. I’ve developed a protective mechanism of convincing myself that I don’t need anyone in order to protect myself from fully experiencing the uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure that comes with loving someone.

The problem is that this ‘vulnerability shield’ not only doesn’t offer any protection at all when the worst-case scenario actually happens but it also robs you of enjoying what you have.

So with 18 days left to go before Tony comes home I’m deciding to stop foreboding love and to instead allow myself to be crazy in love.

Who says that you can’t go back to the excitement of the first few months? I’m not sure I fully experienced it the first time round so I feel like I have a lot of making up to do.

A can of worms

I just came home from Day 1 of my Foundation Training in Non-violent Communication (NVC) and, as expected, it initiated more unravelling.

It’s like I’ve ‘opened a can of worms’.

Apparently this expression originated in the 1950s when bait stores routinely sold cans of worms and other popular live baits to fishermen, who often discovered how easy it was to open a can of worms and how difficult it was to close one. Once the worms discovered an opportunity to escape, it became nearly impossible to keep them contained.

The same is happening in this process of self-discovery that I started. I took Tony’s absence as an opportunity to work on becoming more intimate with myself and somehow it’s taken on a life of it’s own and I can’t put the lid back on. It leads me deeper and deeper by gradually tearing down and disintegrating every belief I hold about myself. It’s confusing, scary and painful but at the same time so liberating, exhilarating and rewarding. The main reward being that I feel more alive and in touch with myself than ever.

So today my belief in myself as being emotionally literate was totally demolished. I discovered how difficult I find it to identify what I feel (rather than think) and need in a situation that presses all my buttons.

I find connecting with my needs the most challenging and scary because when I connect with them, I need to take responsibility for them and look for ways to meet them. The fear that was triggered by this gave me quite a good indication that there are probably quite a few needs that I have been suppressing and hiding from myself and which, once brought to the surface, will probably have a huge impact on my life.

What really hit home with me was the realisation that by far and large I have been a stranger to myself for all these years and that really hurts. However, I now have the opportunity to put that right.

My task for tonight is to really connect with my most important needs and values at the moment and I will soon immerse myself into a hot bath to contemplate this. I’m scared about what I might find and the knock-on effect of my discoveries but what can I do? 

The can's open and the worms are escaping.

Wholeheartedness

I’m amazed by how much I’ve learnt about myself in the last 4 months that Tony’s been away. Admittedly it hasn’t always been easy or pleasant. A lot of my self-discovery evolved around issues with self-love or rather the lack of it and how Tony had been compensating for that. Developing real intimacy with myself and learning to embrace my imperfection and vulnerability have been my biggest challenges.

Slowly, however, I feel like I’m getting somewhere in this process. I notice how I’m experiencing feelings more intensely. Almost every day now I’m close to tears or actually crying because I allow myself to fully experience a feeling. It’s a full body experience rather than the numbed down version of feeling I developed over the years by trying to protect myself and shutting off from my vulnerability. Experiencing this is scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

The other amazing side effect of this process is how my heart doesn’t just open up to myself and my own imperfection but also to other people and their imperfections. It’s like I’m rediscovering our shared, flawed humanity and I’m surprised at the increased compassion and goodwill I’m capable of as a result of that.

Earlier today, I was strolling along the banks of the river Thames between Bourne End and Cookham and I suddenly felt this deep sense of connectedness and belonging. I was fully present with my surroundings, the people I encountered and myself. I felt at peace and so alive that I could hardly hold back the tears. Incredible. I am so grateful for the ability to feel that way again.

It’s true what Brené Brown says in her book “Daring greatly”. We cannot selectively block out feelings. When we numb ourselves and avoid being vulnerable we don’t just water down the experience of negative feelings but also our ability to fully experience positive feelings. In order to be wholehearted again we need to allow both. We need to ‘dare greatly’ indeed but from my experience, I'd say, it's a risk worth taking.