Your capacity to give and to receive grows in proportion to the depth of your presence. The best partner there is is the person who is capable of receiving all that you have to offer and who challenges you to open further to become capable of receving more of what they have to offer in return.
Take the leap and take the lead. Stay nonstick, pure surface—congruent and accountable to nothing and nobody but the truth and only the truth. No longer abdicate the truth for anybody’s sake. Argue no longer with the truth. Argue no longer for the truth. Keep it sweet and simple. Be the truth. Be nobody—pure surface. You need nobody—stay nonstick. All you have is the truth of this moment. Take the lead. Let the truth orient you. Nobody can harm you. Nobody can pin you down and guilt or shame you into feeling accountable for anything any more than they can do it to the truth. The truth is infinite—fickle on its lush surface but immutable at its empty core. It’s you—pure loving. The truth finds you when you stop (running from it). Respond to every instance of engagement with opening. Open through [self-inflicted] emotional pain. Open through hurt. Open through fear. Open for the sake of opening. Follow your fear. Follow the trace of love’s blood. Follow the path of the heart through the jungle of fear. Respond with opening. Nothing can harm you. All there is is this moment. Everything. Whereever and whoever it happens to find you with right now—this moment is where you truly belong. Respond with opening.
So seductive—the temptation to seek solace and validation outside in the ’’other,’’ to indulge in sweet neurosis, to chase the elusive tail of illusion, and feel separate and inadequate, to abandon the truth, to fixate and harbour a clench in the gut, to hide from the dread of utmost solitude.
The depth of pent up unspent zest just feels endless.
Do you like it when somebody is trying to impress you in order to please you—either in order to avoid you or in order to hook you so they then get to cling on to you? I don’t think so. You’d prefer them to be totally present and open with you, to feel felt, to feel seen and truly touched by them, to vibe with no strings attached—to engage for real. Unconditionally. Right? What’s with the social anxiety then? Vibe on my friend. As if there was no tomorrow. As if you were nobody (special to psychologically reckon with).
There’s a constant tug of war inside—feeling guilty of falling short, of letting down, of disappointing others—feeling ashamed of proving to be an unworthy and undeserving spineless jello of a man, a self-absorbed prick, a wimp, a limp dick, posing as a stiff one, the cool motherfucker who is actually severely crippled by fear, terrified of ridicule and humiliation, of arousing more pity than love in others—feeling desperate to prove, to earn, to be liked, admired, etc. All this noise tearing up the depthless lake of stillness in the heart of my heart. Conscience is a reckless luxury, a moronic habit to cultivate.
Why do I play hard to get with people I don’t actually want to have anything to do with? And why do I play hardball with those I would actually like to get on well with? Admittedly, my neurosis is rampant in the area of relationships.