Hello Hedge Schoolers,
Latent within every relationship is the possibility of it ending. The bridge built between two people can and will crumble. The hopeless romantic within hopes the deathbeds of old ears hear these words but the reality is that the work is the work is the work. Relationships fracture over time. The complexity of life and the intertwining of human needs, wants and desires will always apply pressure. While many work at collaboratively patching the holes. Many don't. Many see their own bullshit reflected in the tears of a lover. Many can't hold that, so don't. Relating to another human being is hard fucking work. It comes with all the colours of the rainbow. A bounty of beauty. A torrent of hate. And everything in between.
I'm writing this week in honour of my wife. A fierce lioness who shoulders the weight of our world.
I'm a work in progress.
I can have my head up my own ass.
I can take the easy road.
I can half-do things.
I can be passive-aggressive.
I can shun responsibility.
I take full responsibility for all of these things and more.
A work in progress
My relationship continues to be the most amazing learning experience of my life. A mirror with magic in the reflection. Tension. Love. Truth. Powerful ingredients for a great relationship, generating the required pressure for transformation. Dark nights of the soul can threaten the end. It has to be that way. But the sun does rise the next with magnificent splendor if we trust and surrender. The bridge between two souls stronger. Investing in each other requires deep surrender. A willingness to give up positioning in exchange for unity. To lean into each other to create a bridge that will hold. Lockdowns have pummelled the bridges between many of us, causing the patched-over fractures to bear often insurmountable damage. The rise in domestic violence is a horrible truth that all is not well under the roofs of many. Relating requires work. Inner work. Outer work. Bridgework.
The Shakiness of the Long Bag
Robert Bly calls our shadow "the long bag we drag behind us." Our first twenty years of life are spent suppressing our wholeness into the dark corners of this bag. When we show up in relationships, we always have work to do. We always show up dragging this long bag. Our partners shine a light on and into this bag. Such action can trigger us. I know it has for me. Seeing that which I have suppressed in the bright of light can often be too hard to bear. The weight of the load causes me to shake.
In her beautiful book, When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodron calls for us to stay with this shakiness.
“To stay with that shakiness - to stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge - that is the path of true awakening. Sticking with that uncertainty, getting the knack of relaxing in the midst of chaos, learning not to panic - this is the spiritual path. Getting the knack of catching ourselves, of gently and compassionately catching ourselves, is the path of the warrior.”
This is hard. I know I've found myself weaving stories that circumnavigate the shakiness to suit my own rhetoric. But integrity is all of me. And if I am to be truthful, not all of that is pleasant to wear. To grow the bridge in strength and surrender, I must be brave enough to face the fractures of my own doing. To turn and take a look within the long bag and stay with it.
Everyone wants transformation. But transformation is done in the cauldron. It is alchemical. It is how we transition. It is the unknown. The deep work. And it's not easy. We earn our stripes. We earn the transition. According to Ken Wilber, there are two options here - transcend and include or slip back to the known. Forward with a new skin or back to the comfort of the known.
So I pen cathartic words with trembling fingers. The work is the work. Love lacerates. It must. And I lean into my edges and stand in my shakiness.
As a work in progress.
From my heart to yours,
Steve
The Shakiness of the Long Bag