I’ve been thinking in the last few months about conflicts in relationships (of all kinds), partially because of my own experiences and partially because of the experiences of those around me. There are a few things that have occurred to me, and here I am, just processing. This is probably stuff that lots of books and other blog posts could tell you; it’s probably even stuff I’ve heard somewhere else before. But things become clear in a different way when you experience them more closely; when they are no longer abstract.
One thing I’ve realized: Long arguments with loved ones aren’t always all bad. I’m not talking about a tooth-and-nail fight here, one with sarcasm and raised voices and hurtful words. There’s rarely anything good about those. I’m talking about when two people are working to deal with a problem. It’s hard. And there’s no way to get around that in a lot of ways it sucks. But as the conversations go late into the night, or the emails are multiple pages long, remember that this person cares enough about you and what you think to go through the pain and frustration of this discussion, trying to reach some sort of resolution with you. Maybe it would help a little to remember that next time.
I’ve learned some stuff about forgiveness, too. Sometimes you get hurt, and, as much as we hate to admit it, sometimes you do the hurting. Whether you mean to or not; whether it’s through unconscious insensitivity or a purposeful angry jab. We all have, and we all will again. I’ve wondered sometimes why asking for forgiveness is so much harder for me in practice than theory. I don’t think it’s a pride thing, in the way that people usually mean it; in other situations I don’t have trouble admitting I was wrong. So why is it so difficult? I think it’s because it is one of the most vulnerable places you can be. Talking to someone about the pain you’ve caused them, and, in a way, putting your redemption in their hands. All at the same time you’re facing inadequacy (your inability to be the kind of person you want to be), the relinquishing of control (the outcome is no longer in your hands) and the possibility of rejection (while knowing that the other person would be within their rights to reject you). Inadequacy, lack of control, and rejection. There’s not much else we fundamentally fear on an emotional level. But this is what I think: I think that that kind of vulnerability is necessary to forge a truly meaningful relationship. Hurting someone is never desirable; neither is being hurt. But once it happens, the bonding and shared humanness that can come with an accepted apology brings freedom that is worth the risk of the question, “Will you forgive me?”.
The last little lesson is stuff about “fairness” and “selfishness”. When you’re very focused on the first, the second is an inevitable byproduct. You don’t have to allow someone to take advantage of you, but you should give freely of yourself what you can, no records kept. And then, don’t feel guilty about the times when you need someone to give to you; it’s not too much to expect a loved one to extend you some grace. That’s what we should do in loving relationships: maintain a constant, natural ebb and flow of giving and receiving. Sometimes more of one, sometimes more of the other, but always free-flowing between the involved parties. No conditions, no restrictions, no begrudging. Just grace.
That’s pretty much it, besides how delightful it is to make someone you care about laugh. That’s a good one, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment