To love truly is to have faith in the entity of love. Love is the miracle that removes fear. We trust our breath and our act of breathing because in some way we are being forced to be in love with life. When we are in the midst of intense doubt or hate, we are in the depths of the fear zone. And fear is the opposite of love. Love is an open door to a possibility of a joyful dance, getting your needs met and fulfilling someone else’s needs, trusting you will be safe.
Every relationship you enter into is a form of a love relationship. It is a sharing of energy, time and space. It is a partnership. It is unity in it highest form. We become intimate by the contract of the joining itself. The birthing between a child and a mother is the most beautiful act of trust, as important as the implanting of the seed. All are acts of trust. We believe in the best of our highest dreams. We lose faith when that story takes a turn not to our liking, or becomes a threat to our personal and emotional security. But just as in a birthing, we believe in the process. We trust all will be done to deliver the child and mother in perfect health. We trust.
When I walked into the room and spoke to my fellow artist,I thought we had a trusted relationship. I was surprised when I spoke to him and his response was one of explosion and anger. I asked why we were standing in disagreement, refusal to communicate and I received statements reinforcing the wall that had risen in the room. My faith in the validity of the relationship was fading. I had believed we had nurtured honesty and truth in our communications and interactions. I felt a sense of failure because I thought we had built our relationship with spiritual tools and trust. He was refusing to speak to me in dialogue. “I can’t talk to you right now…” was his only response.
I had had a history of not trusting men in my life, starting with my father. I had been trusting my relationship with my friend, The Artist, because we had found our relationship within the boundaries of spiritual growth and the act of loving honestly. For many hours we spoke of the different ways we were formulating our male relationships in this portion of our lives. We were doing things differently. We were inserting love and understanding into our male relationships and trying to practice listening and being present for our male counterparts and not be competitive and warlike. We vowed there would be ”no pissing match” in the school yard. We would express our feelings in truth and love. We were now living in a state of declared silence. My father could not express his emotions without exploding and I felt it was happening again with my friend, The Artist.
I keep asking what had I done. I felt the way I did when I was speaking to the dead corpse of my father in his casket. There was no conversation. I felt guilty without a trial. At this point of my life and journey, I would not accept a lack of communication, and I was willing to do whatever what was necessary to get clarity and have that important conversation.
It took two days of emails and talking ourselves down from heightened wall of fear. Without realizing it, I had hit a sore spot in his armor. His history with his dad. His dad had been controlling and emotionally abusive. Without me realizing, I had been so bent on having a clear and loving conversation with him, I had been controlling in my use of our conversations to solidify a new perfect, modern man conversation. I did not allow him to express his views without correcting him and guiding him to my sense of solution. I had forgotten it was our conversation and not just my monologue of being peaceful, modern men. Even with good intentions, I had overstepped my boundaries trying to have peace. My fear of failure caused me to fail at my task. I had forgotten to trust.