"prolonged relationships in the absence of joy are inevitably bound together not by love, but by the sticky glue of fear and guilt." - Peter Breggin, The Psychology of Freedom, p. 34

This statement hits home for me.  How many of my relationships are deeply unsatisfying?  With how many people in my life do I truly enjoy a warm, loving relationship - even with those labeled 'friend' or 'family'? The answer is very few.

Upon reflection, what binds me to these people, then?  If I do not feel that I am loved unconditionally and fully by them (and they in turn by me), why do I maintain the relationship?  If I consistently dread my interactions with them and leave our encounters drained of all energy, why do I continue to pursue a bond? 

I realize now that I have a tendency to try and 'stick things out' in a relationship, despite mounting evidence that I am growing ever more unhappy by the day. For instance, I have a disturbing penchant for explaining away someone else's chronic bad behavior.  In my (misguided) charity I think "Oh, they're just having a bad day," or "They didn't mean to cancel on me at the last minute, something important must have come up."  And yes, without a doubt both of these statements can be 100% accurate. Once.  Or maybe every so often, that is. 

It's all about patterns of behavior, though.  Constant irritability is more than just "having a bad day".  Consistently backing out of spending time together is more than just "something important came up".   Both speak to deeper problems within the relationship.  But fear holds me back.  To face the reality of the situation (the very real likelihood that this person who claims to love me/care for me actually does not) is painful. So it's easier in the short term to let my pride take back seat and let my fear explain away others' bad behavior towards me.

But no more.  I will no longer be trapped by fear in unsatisfying relationships.  Life is simply too short to accept second best.  I deserve to be treated with respect and showered with kindness and compassion.  Since I offer this willingly to my friends and family,  it is not too much to expect the same from them.  I have much love to give.  Therefore, I have  much love to receive. Reciprocity is paramount.

The following is an excerpt from the book Happiness: The Science Behind Your Smile by Daniel Nettle (pp. 56,58):

"No organism should ever be completely satisfied with anything more than a short time, because there might always be some better way of doing things just around the corner, and a perfectly satisfied individual would never bother to go and discover it.  Thus, whatever the circumstances, there should be a small, nagging gap between our present contentment and a conceivably possible super-contentment." (emphasis mine)

This idea intrigues me  because it clearly marries darwinism with psychology.  Are we programmed permanently to feel mildly dissatisfied with our lot in life?  And if so, is this a good thing?  Could such serve as a means of pushing us to evolve and improve? The notion appears almost counter-intuitive, at first glance.  But what else urges us forward in life?  

A host of biological/chemical imperatives guides our actions every day, after all.  Hunger, sleep, sex, etc.  Yet, we rarely admit how these motivating urges constantly color our psychological perspective.  If you're like me (God forbid), you get cranky when you're hungry.  It affects my mood significantly - in a negative way.  This dissatisfaction then, prods me to remedy the situation. Problem solved. That is, until about 6 hours pass. . .  Then the cycle begins again.

So, is it so odd to consider therefore, that mild dissatisfaction with where we are in life might be beneficial? That it might lead us to continue striving in ways we have yet to comprehend? 

Of course, where does this lead us on the path to enlightenment?  What about just living in the moment and accepting life as it is?

I've been doing some soul-searching as of late and have come to the conclusion that it's much more difficult than I'd previously imagined to put into practice the notion of letting go.  Letting go of the past, for example, has been problematic.  But it has been possible.  My recent personal transformation, in fact, has been largely predicated on a new-found ability to let go of some of the pain and guilt that have clouded my existence heretofore.  Those scary specters from my past no longer haunt my waking hours.

Letting go of expectations for the future however, has proven to be a much more angst-inducing process.  And here's the irony.  In working on myself and cultivating hope (where previously little had existed) my thoughts naturally turn towards making my future as pleasant as possible. So now I've gone in the other direction - from ruminating over the past to obsessing over the future.  I want - no I think I NEED - to know the future.  I deeply desire reassurance in all areas of my ever-changing existence.  Yet, there is none. Nor will there ever be

To top it all off, what gets left out in this? The present.  Exactly where I am - thinking about the future.  Meditate Amy, meditate . . .

Recently I've been reading a book entitled The Resiliancy Advantage by Al Siebert and the other day I stumbled across a revelation.  The author argues the people who possess paradoxical traits - like the ability to be self-critical but also praise themselves, or to be fearful of change but also embrace impulsive behavior at times - that these individuals are far more resiliant in life than others.

To wit . . . " counterbalanced personality qualities indicate that you have developed advanced emotional intelligence. The more pairs of [opposing] traits you have, the more you have the mental and emotional flexibility essential for resiliancy."  In other words, we are not weakened by holding contradictory viewpoints or emotions at the same time.  Rather, in doing so we become better able to navigate through life.  We have the necessary mental and emotional fortitude to cope with any surprises that come our way.  In large measure this is because we've already thought of both sides of the equation.

Yin and Yang live inside us . . .