I’ve been in this reflective state the past few days…thinking about relationship, it’s tenuousness, how hard it can be, all that it offers, the risk it requires, and much, much more. And then this quote appears in my inbox; a series of words, thoughts, ideas that speaks to what I most want, most believe in, most know to be (intuitively and profoundly) true:
There is a zone in the mind as narrow and wobbly as a tightrope, but once you learn to walk it, life paradoxically becomes steadier, more grounded. That narrow line where love and detachment combine is a solid foundation for the soul.
(Martha Beck, News from Martha Beck Inc – December, 2009)
I struggle with this – the tension between love and detachment, between independence and dependence (or even interdependence), between wanting to be needed but not smothered, between wanting to be desired but not consumed.
The metaphor that comes to me is that of a junior-high dance – the girls on one side of the gym and the boys on the other; some invisible, uncrossable line in the middle. I hear the music and want nothing more than to be asked, chosen, together. Couldn’t we just meet in the middle and move to the rhythm? Seems like that would be the simple, fair, and logical solution. But that’s not how it works.
For the sake of the metaphor (and to mess with gendered categories) picture the girls as “detachment” and the boys as “love.” Love make the solo trek across that lonely gym floor, walking casually but nervously toward detachment, invites her to dance, takes her hand. Before the slow song has gone much further, detachment walks tentatively across the floor and bravely asks love to join her. He says “yes.” The line is crossed.The music swells. Could anything be more perfect? More lovely?
For at least a few stanzas, love and detachment coexist. One does not threaten or overwhelm the other. They move and sway. Maybe clumsily. Maybe passionately. Maybe both. Together.
Love and detachment combine. And they dance.
…differentiation [detachment] is the process by which we become more uniquely ourselves by maintaining ourselves in relationship with those we love.
(David Schnarch)
I’m grateful for Martha Beck’s words, for my own learned perspective, even for a history of not being able to keep love and detachment combined. Severing one for the other has taught me hard lessons. Now I know better. I’m grateful for differentiation – becoming more uniquely myself. I’m ready to dance again – without getting my toes stepped on or tripping on my dress.
Where’s that mirror ball?
When you’re done dancing…or maybe while your date goes to get you a glass of punch, here are some questions for further thought and conversation.
Does detachment (or differentiation) feel like a threat? To you? To your love?And if you pursued it (in service of your own soul) what would result? What would that music sound like?
Does your commitment to detachment keep you from saying “yes” to love’s request to dance? The request of another or even love for self?
Will you dance?
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
It’s like you reached into my mind and articulated what’s been in my head for the last five months. It’s difficult to find that beat between independence and inter-dependence; I desperately cling to notions that if I succumb to Love, I’m forever under its finger.
Love, to me, is the real Threat. It’s the variable: unpredictable, forever evolving. But, in spite of the threat, I’m married. In love.
You’ve steeled my resolve: dance together, alone, and in circles until the music stops. Thank you. <3
Amanda´s last blog ..The Books that Sold Me on Design
Difficult to find the beat…I agree, but worth dancing clumsily (and passionately) in the midst. What I wonder about is the gift/invitation/challenge of “succumbing” to love whilebeing most completely and powerfully ourselves – independent, strong, differentiated…and in the midst even more able to love be loved.
Poetic & thought provoking
Thank you!
You inspired me to write! http://www.violetminded.com/2010/01/the-conqueror-no-not-conan/
.-= Amanda´s last blog ..The Conqueror. No, not Conan.
And write you did! It’s beautiful!!! ‘Love it. Commented on it. And will now Tweet about it, as well!! Thanks, Amanda!
I have tried on more than one occasion to walk that tightrope between love and detachment. The last time I was sure I could do it but what I found was I couldn’t. When I let my guard down, I would see that I was not being “me” necessarily or that I was dancing to a different song than the partner I was with at the time. It was in those moments of truth that I realized that I wasn’t quite ready yet to try love again but I am working towards being ready.
Nicki´s last blog ..Parents and Parenting
Thanks for being willing to say this, Nicki. The only dance (translate: love) we TRULY want is the one in which we’re most TRULY ourselves. It’s good and right to sit a song or two out until you know that you know that you know that you are 100% you, 100% enjoyed, 100% accepted, 100% loved! Easier said than done, I realize, but so, so worth it!!!
Just discovered this post, nearly a month later. How timely. I recently turned down a guy who was sweet, smart, attentive and funny — but who moved too quickly across the dance floor. One reason I detached and ran? I’m still (possibly) in love with a friend. But given his disinterest — his consummate detachment — maybe I use my attraction to him as an excuse to detach myself from other possibilities. Love is so basic and central to life. So why is it so difficult to believe in and nurture?
Such a messy place, Gwen. I won’t presume to know the answer to either of your questions: that of whether or not the love for the friend detaches you from other possibilities; or why its so difficult to believe in and nurture love. What I will do is invite you to dance – in the mess, in the beauty, to whatever music you hear most deeply in your soul. I’m absolutely positive that when you listen, way down, you’ll hear the right beat and start to move. Love is always there – first and foremost for self, and others, as well.
Thanks, Ronna.