I do...but do I know why?

I often feel super dazed and confused when I am asked to officiate a wedding or write a ceremony for a couple.  In oh so many ways, I am the least likely wedding officiant. I am flattered, honored. But my first response to an engagement is rarely wide-eyed or excited or congratulatory. It's not that I am cynical (not exactly), but I wouldn't say I am an enthusiastic proponent of marriage across the board, either. I look around most days and am hard pressed to identify a marraige that I admire or that inspires me...which is always a great time to get curious about whatever it is in me that I am meeting through my reticence. 

But when you are invited literally to marry people, you start to ask what it's all for, too. 
Why do it?

There are practical and pragmatic and symbolic reasons to marry, of course. 
There are passionate and political and beautiful reasons to take vows and formalize your relationship.

But it's an oddly interesting position to be the one holding that sacred space, much less helping people clarify and articulate the real promises they are making and the actual vision they are creating. 

I wonder how often people are even gazing in the same general direction, much less looking at the same vision.  

Too many people seem to just, well, collapse into marriage without asking why or how. So much emphasis is placed on the "whether" or "what" that they lose sight of these essential questions. Why marry? And what does it even mean? The momentum or the expectations or the "where I want to be by age___" sometimes take over and eclipse any sense of what it actually means, day to day. All too often I witness the bewilderment and disappointment of couples who perhaps mistook their wedding for a marriage or based their vows on abstract projections that have little to do with their actual lives. Frustrated or scared or hurt or disenchanted, people often choose to suck it up rather than communicate honestly about where they are and how they feel. Because they "made vows."

So many vague promises are made that seek to restrict and control what shifts, as individuals and as a couple. As though growth and transformation are threats. As though we can predict, forecast, and control what and who we are becoming instead of vowing to really SEE and support who we are becoming. Yet most people really want to be cheered on in their growth, to feel supported in the challenging processes of exploring and evolving and becoming who they are becoming.

I spend A LOT of time with people who are healing from broken down relationships they expected to be fairy tales. People who grapple with the sense that a perfect marriage meant you'd never change. People who realize their codependency isn't passion, their resignation isn't devotion, and their paralysis isn't very healthy. People who diminish themselves to make the other person happy. People who are starved for genuine connection, because their partner stopped noticing who they were becoming and no longer knows them at all. Even when they share a house. Even though they share a bed. People who make great roommates, but terrible lovers. People who are stuck in patterns they have no energy to redress or change, though it's killing them inside. People who can't even have the most basic of conversations for fear of being shut down, pushed away, or attacked.

And listen, I am not saying this is true in all marriages. 

There are some marriages I absolutely admire and from which I glean hope: couples who are present to one another, and honest, and generous but independent. Supportive, passionate people who you just know--because you see, feel, and hear it in all the subtle and obvious ways-- belong together, in this way. At this time.

But that is the issue I see the most. People gamble that who they will become is as simple and seamless as saying "I promise." Life rarely goes according to our plans, though. People grow and change and shift in ways we cannot predict. So, the trick is not auctioning away future you into the confines of some mold you think will make it all perfect. Similarly, so many people find their relationship "commitments" make their worlds smaller--casting suspect on any connections outside the unit so that jealousy, control, and co-dependency eventually (de facto) trump trust, expansiveness, and interdependence. One of the crippling and toxic habits we have around relationship is asking someone to be our everything, and then stripping from them the ability to cultivate and nurture themselves outside of us. It's a recipe for disaster, yet it's so commonly what we expect from the one we "love." 

Relationships of all kinds ought to make our lives bigger, brighter, and richer, right? Yet, very often we only feel secure if our partner's life gets smaller, under careful monitoring. In subtle and overt ways, people demand that Life is forfeit for the security of the relationship, when in fact the relationship ought to be one way we are brought more fully and beautifully INTO Life.

Some marital vows implicitly privilege stagnation over transformation and are based in fear/control rather than the dynamic love that most people really seek. Rarely do I witness couples commit--through their vows--to being fully present and honest about what IS, outside the fairy tales, and to communicating the hard and messy stuff, supporting one another in their respective evolution--even as that might mean growing in different ways.

Most people I work with need to commit to themselves and develop that inner intimacy before they go promising themselves to someone else. That is the marriage we seem to avoid committing to more often. The vows we make to ourselves, through thick and thin, richer or poorer. How will we honor and support our own heart in all the days ahead?

So, every time I am asked to write a wedding ceremony and support a couple in vows to share a life together, I always balk and ask,"WHY on EARTH do you want to do this? Why does this even interest you?" I ask them if they know who the hell they are now and we spend less time projecting into who they think they will be.

It's an odd thing. Writing a ceremony for me is not just giving MY blessing (whatever that is worth), but it's a process of helping two people recognize who they are--here and now--as individuals before they let that get eclipsed by who they think they are as a couple.

I guess I am a hard sell on this.  

Lots of people love with passion and commitment and honesty without a wedding.

Lots of people lose all passion and commitment and openness within a marriage.

I don't think a relationship has to last forever to be valuable or meaningful.

And I don't think the most loving thing we can do is ask someone to sacrifice who they really are in the service of playing along with who we promised (projected, expected) we would be. 

I do think real love is about seeing someone as they really are and letting them see your vulnerable belly, even when it might mean rocking the boat.

So, anyone who wants me to bear witness to the ritual of it all has to know that I am not just interested in their wedding...I am asking them to consider their ideals and ideas of marriage. The why and the how.

So, maybe that is why I get asked. I am just reluctant and leery enough to pose some tough questions before I will say "I do" to them and they say "I do" to a shared vision. And what I am going to write for and about them is not a fairy tale projection that belies or denies the gritty hard work of any real intimacy. 

But, what I am finding--with great delight and a peppering of hope-- is that the few couples for whom I DO end up saying "yes" these days are the ones whose answers suggest that that their relationship brings them more fully and expansively into life rather than collapsing them into one another and withdrawing from life. I say yes to the ones who champion the growth of the one they love, even when it scares the shit out of them and demands that they grow, too. The ones who promise NOT to stagnate or tip toe around the truth just so to keep the boat from rocking. I say "yes" to writing and officiating when I feel myself saying inwardly "yes."

I feel lit up around them and inspired by their care and connection. The way they carry equal measure of awe and honesty as they describe the other. And when I say yes and sit down to write for them, I also get to wrestle with all my own ennui and cynicism, which is undoubtedly a good thing, too. 

It's a humbling and deep undertaking, for which I feel truly grateful.

I do. 

The Precious Resources

 

"The one person who really knows me best says i'm like a cat 

yeah the kind of cat that you just can't pick up and throw into your lap no, the kind that doesn't mind being held only when it's her idea 

yeah, the kind that feels what she decides to feel 

when she is good and ready to feel it"

 ("Virtue," Ani DiFranco)

SO, as a singular departure from my usual cadence, I offer this borderline (or overtly) snippy PSA post about time and attention, expectations, and honoring the precious resource of our own self care.

Let me start by acknowledging a few related threads, before I unravel (metaphorically and otherwise). My teachers Sharon Gannon and David Life encouraged me to treat my attention (what and how I attend to things) as a precious power, and I have come to know it as such. Where our attention goes, so goes our energy. And what we put energy into, we eventually (but inevitably) merge with. When that faculty of attention gets diluted, deluded, or distracted (and let's face it, we live in a culture that bases billion-dollar industries on us doing just that), everything in our life is impoverished. So, in my world, my attention is how I create and sustain my creations. It's a precious resource, and one that I am slowly learning to conserve and nurture with greater reverence. I have devoted my life for the past decade to a (scary, often unpredictable) focus, which has articulated itself in a body of work that continues to evolve and change. Nevertheless, there is a continuity that bridges the gaps of every shift in tide and direction. And that continuity is the real work, the real mystery, and the real power. Because when the shit hits the fan--and it does, all the time, because this is life in all its messy unruly glory--it helps to keep the attention on the linking mechanism rather than gripping in panic at the form that is giving way. I have great faith--faith I have earned--that the solid ground I seek has everything to do with kissing the rug beneath me goodbye.

So, focusing and refining my attention is a practice of devotion, creation, and courage. It's how I am able to hold space for vast experiences of those I serve. It's critical. To me, and to them.

And lately, I am having to work harder and harder to protect my attention from the myriad demands and distractions that play into old habits of people pleasing and trying to be superwoman. But more on that in a bit.

In addition, I am both a naturally solitary person AND an introvert, which consistently shocks people who know me only as a teacher or a face on social media. If you only see the animated, intense, sociable me, that makes sense. As a teacher, I give 500% of my focus to those before me, which means I am mining my resource of attention and connecting with as pure and unbridled a presence as I have available. And yes, a good party or gathering with acquaintances can lift my spirits. I can and do joyfully connect with people, and my work is all about relationship and presence--oftentimes in large groups.  But, I prefer intimate time, 1:1 with my nearest and dearest to socializing in groups, and I always need at least 1-2 days of solitude in the wake of a big event or gathering. My soul is best fed when I am in the woods or wild, alone, silent, and able to hear what is happening inside and out. And that--that silence--is an even more precious resource for someone whose work often means an overload of speech. And by "speech," I am including texts and emails and the like, since they are just another form of dialogue. To restore--to bring myself back to my original state--I require silence (not talking, not listening to others), stillness, and solitude. It's how I tend the well from which I draw SO VERY DEEPLY in my work life.

There are a lot of people in my life who are cut from a very similar cloth. People who love people, but love their solitude, too. When they feel wrung out and overextended, they retract. It's natural. It's healthy. It's normal. And there is a distinction between drawing inward to restore and heal vs cutting off and isolating, though some people seem to assume the former is a threat of the latter.

But here it is. My soap box moment, if only to shout it into the wind-tousled snow. 

I am the sole proprietor of a business that demands constant care. There is no partner or patron paying my bills at work or at home. There is no one else's name on the dotted line, and there is no one else responsible for the vision or the viability of the vision. There is, in other words, no plan B. No net beneath me. 

Just the way I like it.

Because, to be clear, I am NOT a fair maiden looking to be rescued by someone else. Not a business partner, not a benefactor, not a mate, and not even a teacher. In fact, the best teachers I have known were the ones who insisted on my freedom, even when that meant working it out in the least graceful of moments. They believed in me. And that unwavering trust in me gave me the tenacity and courage to keep moving into the unknown, so it's the heart of what I do for those who call ME teacher. 

But this means I need downtime. NEED it. That might mean days of me not talking. Or not making plans, because I have no need for plans even if you do.

Confessions: I have never been nor will I ever be someone who wants or needs or likes to talk on the phone.  I talk ALL THE TIME, and I often lose my voice after more intensive weeks, so when I get "off" time, I go silent. It's beautiful. But that doesn't mean I don't care or don't think of you. You can live in another country or in Denver, and chances are I will have great faith that our connection is not dependent on phone calls. It isn't a need of mine. I thrive on the intimacy of an actual face to face experience. If you can move across time and space and hold steady affection, picking up where we left off, we are likely great friends.

For better or for worse, I have married myself and am living with a fiercely independent soul. But I know I am faithful to her, too. I promise to grow and change and contradict myself and wade into the shadows as often as I bask in the sun. And that is all she asks of me. It's all any of us can really expect, unless our love has more to do with control and comfort. I relish my alone time, and the fact that I live in a beautiful home and a beautiful town in a beautiful place with no one else calling the shots.
No negotiations.
No accommodations.

AND I also delight--truly delight--in the company of those I keep close. My life is blessed deeply by an amazing community of people whose talents and wisdom and innovation far exceed my own and who keep me inspired and motivated to stay focused. THEY are my business partners, my bosses, and my patrons. And they are my friends and family. The ones who tend my wounds and get me back on the trail when I want to skulk in a cave.

So, don't get me wrong. I am undeniably grateful for the people in my life who support and love me. And I may be alone in so much of what I do, but I am never lonely.

However....

That also means my life IS full. And by virtue of the depth and authenticity of the work I do, there are many requests for additional time and even friendship (which I think is often a misinterpretation of what someone is really seeking and so it gets projected onto those who hold the space for them to remember). Every day I am inundated with text messages and emails and phone calls from people asking for attention and time. I am asked to infinite "teas" and "talks," which more often than not translate as me working. Usually for free. Usually at the expense of my own downtime or time wiht my beloveds. 

The struggle for me for years was that I WANT to be there for anyone who asks. And there was a time when I could do that so much more easily. So I said "yes" to everyone, and tried my best not to disappoint people. But that isn't sustainable for me anymore.

For the most part, I am getting better about knowing when to say "yes"and how to say "no."

The learning process is a tough one, though. Of the many things I have refined to develop a modicum of wisdom, there are three times as many things that I am moving through clumsily, like a toddler. I used to say "yes" all the time and spent endless hours at the teas and in my office and on the phone or writing lengthy emails to people. Mostly for free. Mostly without any offer to honor my time or attention. I participated in it. My bad. So, now those requests are so much more obvious to me, as I am also working with so many people who DO honor my time and attention, and who DO offer some kind of compensation when they are asking me to be there outside of MY regular work hours. So now the 2am 5-part text from a student expecting a response is both frustrating and infinitely educational.
(and there is no specific reference here, dear students...that is how often it happens, my loves)

I am learning. Still. Always.

And it's so often where we are bumping up awkwardly like that against our old ways that we innovate (or are forced into, out of survival or necessity) new ways. The truth is, not everyone likes it when we change. Especially if they are invested in us staying the same. One thing that has become crystal clear to me in this process of reclaiming my time is how easily we tend to project onto others a need that isn't real. Given the in depth and profoundly intimate work I do with students and clients, it's no surprise that it cultivates a space of safety that might not be common in the rest of their lives. That is what I LOVE about what I do. It is a privilege to watch people give themselves permission to feel, say, think, and be who they really are. It's scary and thrilling, for all of us. 

BUT....(you knew that was coming)....when a student or client begins to attribute how they feel when they are embodied or seen or heard to another, it's a red flag. The responsible position is to redirect that praise (or criticism) inward, so the person can find the truth and the sanctuary within--not to be dependent on me. I am just facilitating and witnessing their process. However, there can be a tendency to want and expect some kind of reciprocity, like a friendship. But, as rough as it sounds, I am not looking to be friends with everyone. I am kind of stocked up. I have amazing friends I barely get enough time with as it is. People who see ME and hold space for me and all my crazy complexity. My work is not about being liked or becoming buddies. My work is about serving others so that they find their way HOME. And I get it, we all kind of fall in love with the people who see us and remind us of our own inner worth. I have been there--been crazy in love with my teachers and wanted nothing more than to be in their inner circle, around them all the time. Spiritual maturation and the hard work of SELF study has helped to usher me out of that tendency, thankfully. So I get it. And I can see it. And I see how tempting that adoration or popularity can be to those who are in the seat of a teacher and haven't done their own work. Mistaking others' dependency for a job well done is a surefire karmic nightmare. Yet, sadly, we frequently encounter "teachers" and "healers" who are all too happy to take the praise and credit for the inward shifts that were always already solely the beautiful process of the individual alone. 

What is my point?

A lot of people think they "need" us (and the more surly among them expect it and get pissy when we don't accommodate them), when in fact, 1) it's likely a projection as they hit a wall and doubt themselves, 2) so, indulgence of those requests usually doesn't serve anyone in the long run; 3) It is rarely broached as formal work and instead insidiously (however well-intentioned) couched in the terms of friendship. 4) While I once felt an obligation or responsibility to meet those needs, every call for help and every desperate text looking for an answer, I am no longer in a position to do so. 

Remember the "I am alone" bit? Yeah. there is only one of me. And she has needs, too.

That means I am asking of myself, first and foremost, to clarify MY needs and figure out how to meet them in a sustainable, conscious, and conscientious way. It's a huge effort for me, I am discovering. Self Care, the heart of so much of my own work, has become an elusive luxury over the past few years. Yet, thankfully (I mean this), things stop working when I don't care for myself. I get depleted and diluted and my awesome complicated body gets very clear with me. I say "thankfully," because the wisdom of my body is a profound messenger....and it hollers way before I would throw in the towel. So, I am learning to listen earlier and earlier, before the message affects the rest of my life. 

But I am ALSO asking of those I serve to clarify THEIR needs, since so often there is a decidedly UNCONSCIOUS knee-jerk reaction to grasp at a teacher (or lover, or money, or counselor, or...) when something is uncomfortable. Within the scope of MY practice, I am now asking students to first DO THEIR PRACTICE before and USE the tools we have developed together before they ask for more (time, tools, attention).

And what I am finding is that about 75% of the time, they aren't doing anything other than hitting the panic button. Job well done for me is when the people I serve are independent (dependent inward, trusting themselves) and interdependent (able to foster genuine connections that are neither co-dependent nor isolated). It's a great and humbling process for us all.

Those of us whose entire work life involves in-depth and intense communication and presence do not necessarily want to spend days off or precious downtime on the phone or texting or emailing. When we get a chance to go idle and silent, we love it. We NEED it. Maybe more than you "need" to catch up or chit chat. And, if you are really asking us to work, and just calling it "tea," consider how that feels. 

Or, maybe find the attention you really seek elsewhere.
One of the greatest lessons I have taught myself with regard to my own tendencies is this: I want you to assume you don't need me, and figure out from there what it is that drives you to think you do.

And as much as I am working on that clarification of my time and attention at "work," I also find myself chippy in the world of social media (something I use out of laziness as much as I use for practical purposes). 

I am too often spread too thin these days, and I do not owe anyone my attention or entry into my personal life just because they are curious. Neither do you. Friendships are developed, not obligated, and certainly not presupposed by virtue of being linked via social media. Because we are inundated by technology and can communicate instantaneously, we tend to project onto our interactions a hyperbolic urgency that frequently belies any actual need. Just because we CAN say things instantly does not obligate anyone to reply instantly. We clutter up the quiet spaces and powerfully medicinal downtime of our lives with constant chatter and little to no time to process/digest anything...and it leaves a lot of people starving for actual intimacy, while choking on the glut of the clamor. I see tooa many passive aggressive and pissy posts written by people who don't bother to do their own self inventory before they pull the trigger. Projections, expectations, and woefully sparse actual communication. Since we are afforded such regular glimpses into (curated, abbreviated) aspects of one another's lives, we often assume a level of intimacy and familiarity that can contradict any actual substance beyond face recognition. 

It's best to assume you know very little about someone unless you have looked into their eyes and spent actual time in their presence.

And it's best to assume you know nothing about what is going on in someone's personal life right now, this day, unless they have told you personally.

Truth: I share very very very little about my actual personal life. You will likely never know when I am in a relationship or going through a breakup or circulating through many lovers or deliberating my future in a nunnery. Likewise, please do NOT assume I know diddly squat about your breakups, conflicts with mutual friends, etc unless YOU have told me directly.

And finally, on that last quasi-ranting note, those who mistaking Facebook for match.com or tinder or some other dating site, please stop. Let's assume that I am knee deep in a relationship with someone who is equally private and far more skilled with pick up lines. So, please, back your bus up to the dating sites and have at it.

Rant complete.
Phone "off."
Boots on.
Big deep breath in. And out.