Perhaps this sort of confrontation is of interest to us. And it’s okay if we want something else from our relationships. Or aren’t sure. As Rumi reminds us, there are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. To have contradictory feelings about this is an expression of intelligence.
But if we do choose the crucible of intimacy as one of the greatest illuminators of our unlived lives, as a true modern-day temple of revelation, we can count on our partners to continuously reveal that which is longing for integration within us, inviting it out of the shadows and into the warmth of conscious awareness. This reminder is often painful… but aches with the holy.
From this perspective, the promise of intimacy is freedom and wholeness, not a life where there is no negativity, conflict, or pain. No fantasy of a life free of vulnerability, heartbreak, and fiery deflation in all its forms. We don’t get to stand on the sidelines, safe and protected by our amazing spiritual realizations and insights. For we come to discover that the beloved isn’t all that interested.
Within the sacred field where one and two dance, there is no promise of consistently flowing high vibrations, unending joy, continuous connection, and feelings of safety and certainty. For this is a full-spectrum crucible of wholeness, weaved of light and dark, where everything is allowed. Even the most profound feelings of abandonment, engulfment, jealousy, fear and rage – even the most primordial of all, the anxiety around death – it is all welcome here, arising for holding and integration. For this is the gift of intimacy, all of it.
As we remove the burden from the external other to take care of that which we have disowned in ourselves, we plant the seeds of a new heart. For to return this task to us is the wildest, most tender, most devastating act of love that they could offer.