"Here be dragons",
a phrase that refers to medieval maps depicting illustrations of mythological monsters terrorizing the unexplored regions of the world.
Dragons don't live in the world.
But they are alive and well in our bodies, terrorizing us from the unexplored regions within ourselves:
Our fears of rejection, abandonment and withdrawal of love.
And our relationships are their favorite stomping grounds.
Maybe it was something our partners did- or didn't do-that triggered us, but wasn't about us at all.
Maybe it was the way they responded to something we did or said that triggered us.
And then maybe we don't ask questions- our minds hate uncertainty.
They would rather count on something bad happening to prepare us-
like rejection, abandonment and withdrawal of love.
So our minds armor us up against the volly of slights and unmet needs that we 100% believe is coming our way.
So we shoot first and ask questions never, unleashing our dragons of blame, projection, criticism, complaint against our partner to defend against our own stories' attack against ourselves:
The belief that we will not be cared for, considered or loved enough.
You know what happens next:
We get into conflict about the thing that is really about another thing:
The need for reassurance that we are important, loved and safe.
Our minds' stories needs an editor.
A curious editor who will fact check,
"Is that belief true?"
and gently inquire,
"Is this belief causing me to struggle?"
A compassionate editor who won't kill the messenger with judgement and invalidation, but who will gently pry open the difficult feelings that inform our stories about who we are and the treatment we can expect from the world.
To lead us into our dragon's den of fears- the birth place our stories- to shine light on what they show us needs to heal with what is actually true.
And to create deeper self-compassion and self-love by accepting ourselves in our vulnerability.
Guess what amazing magic we can create when we do?
We find courage in our new-found intimacy with ourselves to vulnerably share our struggles with our stories with our partners- beliefs of our victimhood and unworthiness- and invite the connection and understanding that we long for.
We can ask for what we need- not from blame, projection, criticism, complaint, but from the belief in our partner's care for us and our worthiness of it, and create the attunement and intimacy that we desire.
And then, where we once feared we would find rejection for revealing our vulnerable truth, we find no dragons at all.
As John, my late, great, beloved teacher would say,
"We find a basket of puppies instead."
Comments