Love is the opposite of safe

I’ve thought a lot about love and relationships. Not just “romantic” relationships, but all friendships in my life – how I select who I have in my life? How that supports the person I strive to be? How I support others to be their best selves?

I’ve spent lots of time thinking about why I selected my ex as a life partner? Why I’ve always felt like I’ve “failed”? Why I struggled to trust myself and others? I’ve tried to understand what brought me to this point? Why do I judge myself so harshly? What things in my life “created” me as the person that I am and how do I raise my own children to NOT have the struggles that I’ve had? Or do deal with them better?

A newsletter from Buddhist writer Susan Piver struck me between the eyes last week. Although I’ve “known” these things before, I was ready for her words to resonate deeply within me…

Too often, you think that you’ve  ”brought this heartbreak on yourself by carrying forward unhealed wounds from childhood or, god forbid, by thinking the wrong thoughts. I kind of hate this. Of course it’s really, really important to heal your wounds and to examine your thoughts to see if they might be sabotaging you—but when the intention for doing so is to avoid pain rather than increase your capacity to love, it is unlikely to heal you. This kind of advice is often out to convince you that you can create a safe world for yourself and that you can make love safe.

Love can never be made safe. It is the opposite of safe. The moment you try to make it safe, it ceases to be love. I realize this is a bummer, but think about it. Love is predicated on receptivity, on opening up again and again and again to your beloved, each time afresh. To do this, you have to let go of insisting that he or she conform to your standards for what a lover should look like, do, be, say, and instead allow him or her to simply be him or herself. Then you take it from there. To do otherwise, to continually choose who you wish this person was over who he or she actually is, is, well, it’s not love. I don’t know what it is. (Of course none of this stands to reason should any form of emotional or physical abuse be present. At this point you can forget everything I just said and protect yourself.)

Most often, the efforts to heal a broken heart center around putting it behind you and recreating the illusion of safety. Buddhism counsels something else, something best said by the American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron: “Feel the feelings. Drop the story.” That is the pith advice and it means turning toward what you feel, not away. It means letting the feelings be just what they are without trying to explain them, shore your self up, or excuse or blame anyone. This is called being a warrior. The more you allow feelings to burn clean in this way, the less confusion you create.”

Just reading “love isn’t supposed to be safe” struck me like a cattle prod. I’ve recently had people either compliment me on my persistent drive for authenticity or criticize me/wonder why I over think things or continually “push” myself further. Both perspectives didn’t sit right with me – I couldn’t quite figure out why until now. I keep pushing myself because I don’t want to be “safe” but unhappy. I choose to be “uncomfortable”, to venture into unknown territory, and to learn gradually how to be open and unstable, yet accepting of all that comes.

It’s a difficult path for me to walk. But I don’t want to choose differently either, in order to make it easier or “safe”…