Tag: friendship

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The embarrassing thing someone wrote about Breitenbush and me

Someone the other day who lives in Seattle asked me….what’s Breiten-bosch? 

I forget that even if you live here in the Pacific northwest, you may have no idea what Breitenbush is, or where.

And, you may even have heard a few things you aren’t so sure about. Like Clothing-Optional mineral soaking pools.

OMG, I’ll talk about that in a minute. (Yikes)!

Breitenbush HotSprings Resort and Conference Center is a place located deep in the heart of the Oregon Cascades where underground thermal springs have surfaced and provided heated pools for decades.

Last year, someone said “I can’t believe how beautiful this place is, I thought it would be two hot tubs at the end of a dusty road, with some tree-huggers living in a tent.”

LOL.

Far from it.

Breitenbush is a place with a grand lodge, perfectly kept grounds including gardens of flowers and edibles, pathways and trails, a hard-working staff, and an entire catalogue of retreats, workshops and health-related programs for anyone who is a guest.

You can get a massage, take a yoga class, visit the meditation quiet-zone sanctuary, hike into the old growth emerald forest, and enjoy a cozy cabin with comfortable beds, built in cabinets, beautiful hot radiators, a desk and lamp and electricity, and a short trip to the men’s or women’s bathhouse to enjoy naturally heated showers.

And yes, it’s true. There are all-gender clothing-optional soaking pools in their own private areas for those who wish to take in the hot healing waters.

But no one has to go naked, or even go in the hot pools at all. Swimsuits are worn by many. Old-timers and their families tend not to.

You get to choose what’s comfortable for you on your time off during our workshop when the natural sauna or hot pools beckon. Not everyone comes for the waters.

If you’re not really a hot-tub person (I’m not) then we might find you down by the rushing river sitting in Adirondack chairs in the sun, or journaling on dark green moss in the forest.

And oh the meals. So delicious.

Mostly organic, all vegetarian and such a wonderful variety: salads, soups, hot dishes, rice, fruits. Anyone with special diets are accommodated (you tell them when you sign up). You’ll need to bring your own caffeine (lots of french presses and bottles of cream are in the community kitchen station). But you need not be ashamed if you do.

Why we really come to Breitenbush in June, is for the mental health that happens along with the physical health.

We’re there to do the powerful process of self-inquiry known as The Work. It renews mind, feeling, body and spirit.

Now, remember when I said “YIKES!” when mentioning clothing-optional soaking pools?

Once upon a time, there was a scary story for me about those clothing-optional pools.

Six years ago, someone composed a letter that got sent to a few administrative powers-that-be claiming that counseling-in-the-nude was happening at Breitenbush.

Who was the “counselor” doing this? Me.

Oh my.

This caused fear-and-terror, then a little sadness, and eventually a giggle.

Just in case your imagination runs wild at the idea of mental health counseling happening in the nude, please know that the pools are for your private, personal time at Breitenbush. They always have been.

The Work of Byron Katie isn’t really “counseling”…although this isn’t the issue. No counseling or non-counseling, no “work” or program is done at the pools.

The Work is a profound way to identify and then question for yourself what you believe, particularly about stressful experiences in your life. It’s open-ended, contemplative, and allows wondering to occur, beyond fear and stress.

Just like it was for me when I did The Work on someone accusing me wrongly of counseling people in the nude! 

Our work at Breitenbush doesn’t happen in the hot springs, unless it’s percolating within you quietly after our group sessions are over.

Our workshop retreat has its own beautiful space down near the rushing river…a truly lovely structure in-the-round that holds a large circle of people extremely well. We have our own private bathroom inside our round building and we gather in chairs or back jacks (you get to choose) with a comfortable carpeted floor, a white board, and a big projector for our movie night.

Our sessions are mornings 10 am to lunch, a 2.5 hour lunch break (time for a hike, massage, or a soak), 2 hours before dinner, and we only meet until 9 pm latest so in the summer dusk you can relax, soak again, share time with others, or head to an early bed.

But oh that accusation about naked counseling. Ugh.

It really did mention my name specifically.

And even as I remember it, I can still find the thought arising “that person shouldn’t have written that letter.”

Falsely accused! Ridiculous paranoid and jealous person! She was wrong!

Is it true?

So easy for me to see it’s not true, now. But I remember what it felt like when I believed it.

How did I react when I believed the letter-writer shouldn’t have accused me of doing mental health counseling naked in the hot springs pools at Breitenbush?

Defensive. Frightened. Freaking out with the need to make sure everyone knew how WRONG this letter was. That it was some kind of bizarre misunderstanding. That the person who wrote it was a weirdo.

But who would I be, who am I now, without the belief that this person (I since found out who it was, but didn’t know at the time)….falsely accused me?

I notice how clear and safe it was to be “accused” because it was all revealed very smoothly, caused no harm to anyone at all, and showed me who wasn’t supposed to be my friend or colleague.

It also showed me how deeply uncomfortable some people are with nudity, and how OK that is. It showed me how when I joke around, I can be misinterpreted.

Without the belief she shouldn’t have written the letter, I notice how words were read on a piece of paper, a few required steps were taken to respond, and it was over. I learned sooooo much.

And I still find the turnarounds for how it’s truer that she should have written that letter:

I learned how my credentials and my master’s degree were of greater importance than I knew. I could offer CEUs to other mental health professionals (26 for every retreat). I was completely up-to-date on all requirements for my degree and service. I met a fabulous lawyer who was so good to give me really incredible advice.

I felt more confident than ever, after that whole ordeal (which maybe couldn’t be called an ordeal anymore) was over. I felt the power of standing up for myself confidently, without shame. Steady on.

That experience was better than any personal coaching I could have received for feeling confident about my business.

And now, the Breitenbush retreat will happen for the 8th time. This time I’ll be accompanied by the absolutely lovely Todd Smith, who is so kind and grounded in his own work. I love his experience he shares with the world, and his knowledge and love for self-inquiry.

If you sign up soon, the tuition is still at the “early bird” rate, and I’ve heard while cabins are going quick they’re holding a few for our group.

If you fly from afar, don’t worry about having to bring a lot of gear. They supply sheets, blankets, pillows, pillow cases, towels and wash cloth. Bring shampoo and soap and your toothpaste. The little store has any necessities you might forget. The weather is a bit unpredictable (isn’t this the case everywhere now) so a jacket plus summer shorts or sundress. We were really hot one year. We were really cold another.

And one thing: you’ll be off the grid, outside of cell phone service (!) and no wi-fi. This is a time to unplug from the outside world, and plug into your inner life. Many people like to bring their journals, but we’ll have all the materials you need for The Work.

Who would you be without your stressful stories?

For me, without my story of false-accusation, I’m filled with gratitude. I’m clear as a bell. I’m open. I’m understanding. I’m trusting reality. I know who shows up are the right people and I can’t wait to spend time with you, opening our minds and hearts to the friendliness of life.

Without my story of someone freaking out about naked counseling being done at Breitenbush….

….I have a special deep appreciation for all the lessons, all the support this place called Breitenbush has given me.

Even when letters or words get written than don’t seem so friendly on the first read-through.

Learn even more about Breitenbush (and get their phone number) right HERE. Join the inner peace movement.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. If you have a fearful thought about what someone did, said about you, or wrote about you….you can question it! It might not be as bad as you *think*! It may be giving you some awareness you didn’t realize you had.

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When you think of you-know-who…are you feeling stress or peace?

Peace Talk Episode 107 is released. I loved talking with Kathleen Gage about practical, everyday inner peace…and no mistakes.

Also, today is Sunday afternoon meetup for folks wanting to drop in to get a taste of doing The Work of Byron Katie 2-4 pm. Seattle. Only $10.

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fighting
Are you feeling stress or peace when you think of that person?

I received a text once, the last one in a series of texts back and forth about a good friend’s divorce involving lawyers, cease-and-desist orders, heavy alcohol use, terrible sadness, upsetting scenes with kids.

Ugh. The whole thing seemed to be getting worse, and worse, and worse.

Even though I wasn’t so sure, I wrote back that he should do everything in his power to NOT go to war and make more enemies. I called it my Martin Luther King moment. I had this weird hesitation when re-reading it, but I hit “send”.

This is what I got back:

“I’m totally at peace with whatever happens. If you tell me ‘you will get through this’ or ‘in the end you’ll be OK’ again, we will no longer be speaking.”

You gotta admit, this is pretty clear.

I felt smacked down.

Inside I had a voice that said something like “fine, take your completely-at-peace self outta here and go f*%^ yourself, see if I care.”

That would be slightly defensive, wouldn’t it?

Saying something sarcastic, saying I didn’t want to talk anymore, saying he was acting defensive, pointing out he didn’t exactly seem at peace…..any of my immediate comments would be feeding the very same slap-down energy.

War.

I could feel it inside when he told me these words, like a fire ready to explode, in my gut, and I wanted to cry.

The words to accompany the feeling, if I spoke them out loud, were basically like a scream, a wail, pure cussing, a rage.

Inside this voice was having a fit of Poor Me, or I-Have-Been-Ditched or I-Have-Been-Threatened or I-Have-Never-Been-So-Insulted-In-My-Life.

Defend, defend, defend.

And right under this, very hurt.

A great sweeping sense of pain.

I knew that if I wanted to learn from this interaction (and I always do, please) I needed to listen, not tell him what to do or how to be or send back a defensive or hostile text.

I also knew, I needed to focus back on myself and get in my own business, not on his.

How do you get back inside your own business, when someone ditches you, or tells you they don’t like what you said?

The Work.

I identified my thoughts, the hurt ones yelling in my head and bursting in my heart and feeling sick in my stomach.

He doesn’t care about me. He thinks I’m shit. He’s an asshole. He’s a big fat baby, and a victim. He’s so rude. He doesn’t understand me. He’s a liar. He’s sick. He hurt me.

Take a deep breath.

Is it true?

Yes, cry. Hurt, angry, raging, fists pounding, choked up, abandoned.

Are you sure it’s true? Really, really sure?

Deep breath again.

I pause, I look. I see the movie in my head of him, I see the words on my phone, I feel tears form in my eyes. It’s like anger has nowhere to go. And a sadness….why are people so mean like this, so full of rage? Was my pep talk to him really that horrible? Jeez. Poor me.

(I ask myself these questions almost simultaneously while doing The Work….why am I so full of rage? Can I find how what I said WAS horrible?)

Is it absolutely true, all these things I mention, all this pain about him?

In the breath, I look around and see outside the windshield of the quiet parked car. The world is still underway outside this car.

I stop and sob a minute. So hurt.

Is it absolutely true he is this mean asshole who thinks I’m shit, doesn’t understand me, is manipulative and babyish and rude….and he hurt me?

Back then in my car, I said YES!

Fists gripping the steering wheel. Then back to writing.

Now, as I look back doing this work….I can’t say it was absolutely true.

No, it wasn’t.

I don’t know, I don’t know. I have no idea of the entirety of what was going on there. What came out of it was an important and very good change. So, no, it was not absolutely true….even if I have doubts. I survived, I had happy moments, I wasn’t all-hurt-all-the-time. I’m not even sure “I” was hurt. Wow.

How do you react when you believe these thoughts?

In writing, I look at each thought one at a time. I want to give my mind clarity, not get scattered, settle down. I want freedom.

The silent part of me can see how I’m sitting in a quiet car, alone, and how peaceful this moment is EXCEPT for my thoughts.

How do I react, when I believe and think these thoughts? I hate. I feel furious. I want to throw a knife. I feel violent. I want to cry. I feel scared. I think I’m right. I think he’s wrong. I think I’m better. I think he’s worse. I think he’s the source of pain, not my own thinking. Wow.

This isn’t just “defensive”, it’s the energy of war.

So who would you be without the belief? Without the thought that this list of horrible qualities I’ve written down and offenses and meanness are all true?

Hold still.

What would that be like, if the thoughts you have about someone who you think hurt you…..were not true?

What would it be like to not have the thoughts in your head at all? Like, if you couldn’t think them?

This is not denial, not playing mind-games with yourself trying to be nicey-nice when you do NOT feel nice.

But remember how I wasn’t so sure my thoughts were the Absolute Truth of All Time (as if I was God) anyway….and after some time passed I realize my thoughts about this person might not be true at all?

In that moment I felt so hurt and criticized, what was happening really?

Memories. Movies playing in my head. Very quiet car, rain pattering on windshield, skin on steering wheel, things (called cars and people) moving about.

As I remember the words, the letters on a screen I read, I realize without the thought, I’d be a person reading a text (and not even that, since it’s a memory) and no one ever yelled at me. No one ever screamed for me to stay away from them. No one ever said I was shit, or they didn’t care about me.

I look more closely, I spend time there looking instead of picking up a verbal baseball bat to prepare to hit.

Because fetching a baseball bat, whether physically or with words, is actually…..hell. I can feel in the heartbreak, in the turmoil, how hellish it really is.

As I sit and look with this space of a breath, and not believing what I’m thinking is 100% true, I see a person in my mind (my friend), trying to do the best he can. And he even said “I am completely at peace.”

Wow, I didn’t even hear (believe) those words. Why not? Because, they are actually at one level entirely true, no matter how he’s acting or what he’s doing.

Turning the thoughts around:

He does care about me. I don’t care about him. I don’t care about myself. I think I’m shit, I think he’s shit. I’m an asshole. I’m a big fat baby, and a victim, in this situation. He’s so direct and clear. I don’t understand him, or myself. I’m a liar. I’m sick. I hurt him.

What if these were just as true, or truer?

I slowly, carefully, with unconditional acceptance for myself, found examples.

And then….this boiling energy, and hurt energy, lifted and seemed to vanish instantly.

I became aware of how much I love him, and also don’t have to be his best friend. I don’t actually see him all that much, I realized. I don’t know in depth about his life, I’ve assumed a lot, and what I heard at that time via text scared me, I replied with advice “you’ll get through this”, so he would settle down and stop being so upset.

I really was a liar!

I was scared of his opinions, and scared of his temper. I didn’t want to show how sad I felt, how scared, and how horrified I was about his troubling story and life circumstances.

I covered all that up and told him “in the end you’ll be OK” and honestly, I don’t even know what OK looked like. The situation he had shared with me sounded absolutely awful, with many people getting hurt and acting crazy.

I dismissed his situation, I didn’t care about him.

The truth would have been to write “Your situation sounds truly awful. I don’t know what to say. If you want to do The Work, I’m here. If you want me to listen, I can do that–but barely. I’m feeling pretty sad about it.”

I hurt him.

Oh.

I hurt myself, too.

I got very caught up in someone else appearing to freak out (which I don’t know was actually true) and I freaked myself out, about their situation, in zero to 60 in less than one second (the time it took to read a text) and started ladling out advice to get him to stop freaking out, so I could, too.

Wow.

“For thousands of years we’ve been told not to judge–but let’s face it, we do it all the time. We all have judgments running in our heads. Through The Work we finally have permission to let those judgments speak out, or even scream out, on paper. We may find that even the most unpleasant thoughts can be met with unconditional love…..This doesn’t mean that you have to invite your enemy to dinner. Friendship is an internal experience. You may never see the person again, you may even divorce him or her, but as you think about the person, are you feeling stress or peace?” ~ Byron Katie

Much love, Grace

P.S. If you have some work to do on someone like this….Spring Retreat is May 13-15. A few spaces left.

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Not speaking up? Worse than you think!

Not speaking what's true might be hurting just as much as what you fear about speaking up
Not speaking what’s true might be hurting just as much as what you fear about speaking up

Have you ever felt “stuck” talking with someone? Like, trapped in a conversation and you can’t get off the phone or excuse yourself easily?

Trouble saying “no” to someone?

Awkward about breaking up, making a change, or confronting someone?

Ew.

Yah, I hate this dilemma.

You know they’re going to be upset, or worried, or angry, or hurt, or take it personally…..

…..so you just say…..

…..nothing.

Trouble is, you’re looking at that kind of situation as if there’s only a few options, and you’re picking the Least Difficult.

In other words, both or all of the options are rough.

There is no “good” or “happy” or “easy” or cotton-ball puffy sweet candy-corn option.

It seems the Truth will hurt.

Awwwww, can’t we have just one little tiny good sweet option? A nice escape hatch? An option where no one gets upset at all and we all wind up happier than ever?

Uh, No.

But here’s the thing. Why do you want it to be easy, smooth, saccharin, or simple?

I’ve only dreamed of “better options” when the direct route feels very dangerous. When what I imagine about saying “no” or telling the truth is pretty dismal and hard because of disappointment and separation.

So for example.

I had a really wonderful friend once. She was intelligent, articulate, funny and a sharp red head. We loved the same topics about psychology, human behavior, spirituality, God and relationships.

We would start talking over a meal, which appeared to happen maybe every 6 weeks or 2 months.

And then I’d look at my watch after a couple of hours.

It was soooooo great for a couple of hours. Then I’d want to do something else. I’d want to stop perseverating over the same issue or problem in human behavior, or in our lives, that we had already discussed before.

Don’t get me wrong. A deep and intimate conversation is one of my favorite things in the whole world. I love to listen, I love to open my mind to I-Don’t-Know with everyone and see what happens.

But what happened when I got the message from within that it was now bedtime? Time to hug goodnight and move to what was next? Time to say “I’m done”?

People agonize over this when considering leaving a long-term partnership.

Here’s one of the best exercises to do, if you’re wondering how to stop making lists of Pro and Con and stop humming Should I Stay or Should I Go Now by the Clash.

Imagine the worst case scenario.

In my mind, I see me interrupting my red-haired friend mid-stream saying, “I have to call time out right now. I’m not comfortable interrupting, and I’m very tired and need to head home to sleep. I love talking with you and am worried about you taking this personally….and it’s beddy-bye for me.”

And standing up and leaving.

Or any of these possible variations.

I used to think I needed to say it so brilliantly well, it wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

But in this vision of the worst case, she was very hurt.

And I already knew she was sensing my withdrawal sometimes.

She would be careful, and try not to overwhelm me with too-soon dinner date appointments.

I would hear her say “I don’t want to bug you, but it’s been 2 months and I’d love to catch up” and I’d have a little clutch in my gut that didn’t really want to…..wanted to, but not too much.

Time for a worksheet, imagining the worse case scenario, so I can really get down on paper what I’m most concerned about.

I start to write.

I am upset because she’s too big, convincing, charismatic, excitable, charming, verbal. I’m troubled because if I say no to her, she’ll get wounded. I’ll hurt her feelings very deeply. Then, she’ll hurt me back.

I had a vivid picture in my head of her feeling angry.

I was also frightened of her turning her hurt towards herself, not just me. I was afraid she’d get depressed and snap at her kids and husband. I was afraid she would blame me and call me a bitch.

Boy. I sure was assuming a lot about what would happen.

I was also assuming a lot about what was good or not good for her, rather than remembering to simply stay connected to my own inner voice of awareness, with love and trust.

What if, knowing her pretty well, it was actually fairly predictable?

Except, I didn’t even give her the benefit of the doubt. I just assumed, without questioning. I didn’t say anything. I avoided if possible. So I silently stayed longer than I wanted to.

And get this….I even assured her, if she vaguely questioned if I wanted to go, that it was OK and maybe in twenty minutes and thanks for paying attention to the time I almost forgot myself (what a liar).

I waited for a clear sign….the kind where it was obvious she was a) screwed up or b) able to hear me.

Never. Going. To. Happen.

You may wait forever if you’re waiting for the Other Person to bring up this important thing on the inside of YOU.

So let’s look today, at the worse case scenario.

I said no. I hurt her when I told the truth.

She’s mad, very sad, and howling.

My truth hurt her.

Is that true?

Yes.

What a mean person I am. I’m kind of cold. I’m so detached. How did I get like this? I should be nicer. I should care about her more.

See…..already went flying into how I react internally when I believe this thought.

But first, is it absolutely true? For sure 100% all time true that I hurt her with the truth?

No. I really do not know.

I NEVER TOLD THE WHOLE TRUTH! So how would I know if it hurt?

Now…..how do you react when you believe you hurt someone? (Or, you could?)

CAREFUL.

Slow, deliberate, not peaceful. Kinda like I’m backing out of the room slowly. Ready to feel a knife stab me from behind.

It’s like it’s super dangerous. I’m seeing her as very needy, and trigger hot. She has few friends. She’s ditched people before. I need to be the good friend, the close one, the loyal one.

Yikes.

Who would I be without the belief I could hurt her if I tell the truth?

Noticing how much I’m the very same as her.

Noticing how I perceive her, and her qualities, as dangerous.

Because why?

Because I don’t face them, feel them myself, accept them as a part of me, too.

Wow.

Who would I be without my story that the truth, hurts?

Connected. In contact. Speaking the truth, and not running the minute I say it. Not ducking like I’ll be hit.

Willing to get yelled at. Open to anything that’s real.

Turning the thought around: She won’t get hurt when I tell the truth. Not ultimately. Not really. She’ll believe her thoughts, or she won’t. That’s it.

Another turnaround: I’ll get hurt when I tell the truth. Well, yeah.

Especially if I think getting hurt means having strong feelings. (Which I don’t anymore).

I could cry, or get scared, or feel exposed and broken open. I might feel sad that she’s sad, or angry that she’s angry.

(Been there, done that).

How about another turnaround?

We’ll both get healed when I tell the truth.

This will go where it needs to go. It will unfold the way that’s best for everyone. The outcome is not up to me.

And guess what happened in that relationship?

She ditched me….and I never told the truth.

So yeah, the final turnaround: if I do NOT tell the truth, she’ll get hurt.

Oh.

“It is not easy to keep silent, when silence is a lie.” ~ Victor Hugo

Much love,

Grace

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That Thought Is But A Dream

The other morning I woke up with a vivid dream in my mind. It wasn’t even real, it was a dream.

But I felt sad.

In the dream, I stopped by the home of very, very dear friends who I haven’t been in contact with for several years. It was a home I spent lots and lots of time in for about 5-6 years when my son was first born. My son is now about to turn 20.

They gave me a tour of their home in the dream. It had been remodeled multiple times, holding more and more rooms. I asked my friends questions, and they politely answered, but I kinda got the feeling like they were wondering why the heck I stopped by.

They weren’t welcoming. More like….why are you here, and when are you leaving, and we aren’t that interested.

I felt embarrassed.

AND IT WAS A DREAM!

Kind of amazing to think about that….the reaction doesn’t care if it was “real” or “imagined”.

For the next few hours I thought about those old friends who I dearly loved, who supported me in many ways back then….feeling gratitude, and regret, and loss, and appreciation all mixed up together….and then the thought hit me:

I’m horrible at maintaining friendships.

I work too much, I get too focused and passionate, I’m obsessive, I’m intense, I’m introverted, I have an attachment disorder, look at all the people I once was close with who are now not in my life! OMG!

Ha ha! When I thought that, I almost burst out laughing.

The mind will run through all kinds of possibilities, in fact EVERY possibility you can think of, with great dramatic flair.

Well, OK,  this mind apparently does that.

Giving this kind of dramatic personal thought respectful consideration can be profoundly eye-opening with The Work.

Is it true that there is something wrong with my ability to connect, to have friendships, or that they might not be interested (God forbid)?

Yes. I isolate. I’m very one-track minded. I’m like a dog with a bone. I’m not very expressive. I don’t try very hard. I like the Cone of Silence too much. And they aren’t interested, or they would have called me.

What personality trait do YOU have, that you criticize yourself for having?

Can you absolutely know that it’s true there’s something wrong with you? That the way it goes for you is not good? That being that way creates loss, or difficulty, for others (or for you)?

No. I can’t know that. Sigh.

How do you react when you list your faults? Or even believe one of them is true?

Must. Get. Rid. Of. Defect.

I “work” on myself.

When that doesn’t work, I get depressive, discouraged, unforgiving…..sad.

But who would you be without believing the thought that you’re horrible at something, that you’re too “x” or not enough “y”?

“If you wish to be fully alive, you must develop a sense of perspective. Life is infinitely greater than this trifle your heart is attached to and which you have given the power to so upset you.” ~ Tony De Mello

Oh, you mean….remember that IT WAS A DREAM?

Turning the thoughts around, I am fabulous at maintaining friendships. Gosh…I even dream about them 15 years later! I remember some people, then I forget, then I remember, and I feel such gratitude. I feel my heart warming up and delighting in how fun they were.

I am this kind of personality, sort of, apparently…and that changes and morphs and I’m not really sure. I’m the opposite of everything I think; extroverted, unfocused, easy-going, attached and a great friend.

All I know is, doing The Work makes this all funny, innocent, curious, weird, in-explainable, fascinating.

“Stories are the untested, uninvestigated theories that tell us what all these things mean. We don’t even realize that they’re just theories.” ~ Byron Katie

Row, row, row your boat

Gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

Life is but a dream.

That thought is but a dream! DOH! I get it!

Much love, Grace

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Daring To Question The Great and Powerful Oz

It was a hushed, late night, pitch dark outside. The house was very quiet except for my clicking fingers on my keyboard, and the glowing light of the laptop screen.
I was writing my heart out in email.
I was sharing with a friend my response to her challenge the day before, also written in email, that I was doing something she felt uncomfortable with in my wedding preparations.
She told me she didn’t feel the celebration contained the formalities she thought important. She thought we shouldn’t call it a wedding if we weren’t going to actually get a license.
The night was quiet. It was very late, after midnight. Very unusual for me. I couldn’t sleep because I just couldn’t stop thinking about her email I had received, that I was now replying to.
My inner immediate reaction (not the email I wrote in reply) to her email was, on first read, something like this:
“She doesn’t know me at all! She doesn’t understand me! I thought she was less conservative than this! She wouldn’t bring this up if I were gay…what a hypocrit! She’s not the person I thought she was! She’s such a snob! Forget her–she can GO TO HELL!”
 
Yes, it was that mature.
My stomach tightened, my heart sped up just a little, a shot of adrenaline zinged through my arms as I grasped what she was saying and read her words that she did not agree with what I was planning for the ceremony.
She thinks I’m not being HONEST? How DARE…….
 
……Ooops. 
 
I have an automatic timer that goes off when I begin to say the word “how dare you/she/he/they/this….”
Because I know I’m being totally, completely, utterly defensive.
How dare they? Like they should be afraid? To dare question the Great and Powerful Oz Grace Bell?
As I couldn’t sleep, I knew it was time to inquire.
Stressful thoughts were multiplying. I was beginning to question the entire friendship.
Is it true that she doesn’t know me? That she should know better? That she’s too conservative? That she’s not the person I thought she was (in other words—WORSE than I thought she was)?
Is it true that she should go to hell?
Argggh! But! This is wrong! She shouldn’t be so contrary! What does it matter to her how the ceremony goes, how it’s recorded or planned, what traditions are included, whether it’s an official license or not (my husband and I weren’t sure what we even wanted at that point)?
She’s in my business!
Gulp.
Is it absolutely true? Is she not allowed to speak up? Is it true that if she says what she thinks, she’s a snob?

 

No. Deep breath.

I am in favor of people telling the truth. Whether it hurts or not. I love the truth. I adore real, passionate, heartfelt words.
Communication at the core, authentic, most truthful level is my FAVORITE THING. Um…usually.
And even when it’s not, my closest friends are people I connect with and talk with with complete openness, even if we’re afraid.
How do I react when I believe someone is speaking against me, challenging my core beliefs, threatening me in some important way?
I want to write them off, get away from them, cut them out of my life, ignore them, act nice but back out of the room slowly.
Or I might wish they die in a plane crash, off the top of my head. I mean, I want them DESTROYED.
I feel really afraid, even if my reaction appears angry on the inside. I know that what I am…..
…..is terrified.
But who would I be without the thought that she was frightening? That she was wrong, critical, too conservative, and a snob?
I would realize that she brings up excellent agonizing questions, that the whole nation is actually debating. Whether to get a marriage license or not, to declare assets together as a business/economic entity or NOT.
(And I love equal rights for everyone).
In my heart I was getting married with a deep emotional and inner value of commitment. But I KNOW emotional commitments are enormously likely to change over time.
They are more likely to change that to remain stable.
And my past experience is that when the relationship grew more distant (in my previous marriage) that the economic end of the marriage was eventually dissolved.
It’s called divorce.
So for me, there was NOTHING stable about committing to marriage on paper, with the county, the state, the nation, one other human.
My friend expressed my deepest angst and anxiety about what was true for me. I did not know. In fact, I had no idea if this whole marriage/commitment thing was good for much of anyone.
My inquiry was ultimately with the government, laws, marriage, and what I had learned socially. I was mad at my society and my conditioning. And mad at her for learning the same conditioning.
Sigh.
Who would I be without the thought that she shouldn’t speak her mind? That she isn’t expressing something important, meaningful, and loving?
I would read and re-read her email, and see that she didn’t call me names, she didn’t berate me, she was loving, kind, direct and caring.
Without the thought that this was wrong….
….I relaxed so deeply, knowing that there is no absolute answer. I have no idea what the future will be. There is no future.
And after a wonderful discussion with my soon-to-be partner that day after I received the email, I searched online for marriage licenses “just to find out what’s involved these days” with this thing I am not even sure I agree with.
Oh. The offices to get licenses just happened to be about 2 miles away from our home. And this one night of the week, only on Tuesdays (it was Tuesday) it was open later into the evening. It was open right then, for another hour.
So my partner and I said to each other “Let’s go over there and get a license. What the heck?”
So we did.
Turning my thoughts around, I saw that I was the snob, I was the conservative one, she was freer and more liberal in that she could express herself to me.
And what did it matter if she were not the person I thought she was? I wasn’t thinking well of her in that moment….so….good. I was not the kind, generous person I thought I was.
Thank you everyone who has “dared” to tell me honestly what they think. Even if it sounds mean. Even if I don’t like it, or feel quite desperately frightening by it.
That dark night, after inquiry, after my stimulating discussion with my now-husband, I wrote an email full of honest love and gratitude to my friend.
And then pushed SEND.
“When I don’t look for approval outside me, I remain as approval. And through inquiry I have come to see that I want you to approve of what you approve of, because I love you. What you approve of is what I want. That’s love—it wouldn’t change anything. It already has everything it wants. It already IS everything it wants, just the way it wants it.” ~ Byron Katie
With love,
Grace