The Art of Happiness (22 page)

While the acceptance of the inevitability of change, as a general principle, can help us cope with many problems, taking a more active role by specifically learning about normal life changes can prevent an even greater amount of the day-to-day anxiety that is the cause of many of our troubles.

Revealing the value of recognizing normal life changes, a new mother told me about a visit to the emergency room she had made at two o‘clock in the morning.

“What seems to be the problem?” the pediatrician asked her.

“MY BABY
_!
SOMETHING'S WRONG
_!
” she cried frantically, “I think he's choking or something! His tongue keeps protruding ; he just keeps sticking it out ... over and over again ... like he's trying to get something out, but there's nothing in his mouth ...”

After a few questions and a brief examination, the doctor assured her, “There's nothing to worry about. As a baby grows, he develops an increasing awareness of his own body and what it can do. Your baby has just discovered his tongue.”

 

 

Margaret, a thirty-one-year-old journalist, illustrates the critical importance of understanding and accepting change in the context of a personal relationship. She came to me complaining of mild anxiety which she attributed to difficulty adjusting to a recent divorce.

“I thought that it might be a good idea to have a few sessions just to talk to someone,” she explained, “to help me really put the past to rest and make the transition back to the single life. To be honest, I'm a little nervous about it ...”

I asked her to describe the circumstances of her divorce.

“I guess I'd have to describe it as amiable. There were no big fights or anything like that. My ex and I both have good jobs, so there weren't any problems with a financial settlement. We have one boy, but he seems to have adjusted to the divorce well, and my ex and I have a joint custody agreement that is working well ...”

“I mean, can you tell me what led to the divorce?”

“Umm ... I suppose we just fell out of love,” she sighed. “It seemed that gradually the romance was gone
_;
we just didn't have the same intimacy that we had when we were first married. We both got busy with our jobs and our son and just seemed to drift apart. We tried some sessions of marital counseling, but they didn't do any good. We still got along, but it was like we were brother and sister. It didn't feel like love, like a real marriage. Anyway, we mutually agreed that it would be best to get a divorce
_;
something just wasn't there anymore.”

After spending two sessions delineating her problem, we decided on a course of short-term psychotherapy, focusing specifically on helping her reduce her anxiety and adjust to her recent life changes. Overall, she was an intelligent and emotionally well-adjusted person. She responded very well to a brief course of therapy and easily made the transition back to single life.

Despite obviously caring for each other, it was clear that Margaret and her husband had interpreted the change in their level of passion as a sign that the marriage should end. All too often we interpret a diminution of passion as a signal that there is a fatal problem in the relationship. And more often than not, the first whisper of change in our relationship may create a sense of panic, a feeling that something is drastically wrong. Perhaps we did not pick the right partner after all. Our mate just doesn't seem like the person we fell in love with. Disagreements come up—we may be in the mood for sex and our partner is tired, we may want to see a special movie but our partner has no interest in it or is always busy. We may discover differences that we never noticed before. So, we conclude, it must be over
_;
after all, there's no getting around the fact that we are growing apart. Things just aren't
the same
anymore
_;
maybe we should get a divorce.

So what do we do? Relationship experts churn out books by the dozen, cookbooks telling us exactly what to do when the passion and flame of romance grow dim. They offer a myriad of suggestions designed to help rekindle the romance—restructure your schedule to make romantic time a priority, plan romantic dinners or weekend getaways, compliment your mate, learn how to have a meaningful conversation. Sometimes these things help. Sometimes they don't.

But before pronouncing the relationship dead, one of the most beneficial things we can do when we notice a change is to simply stand back, assess the situation, and arm ourselves with as much knowledge as possible about the normal patterns of change in relationships.

As our lives play out, we develop from infancy to childhood, to adulthood, to old age. We accept these changes in individual development as a natural progression. But a relationship is also a dynamic living system, composed of two organisms interacting in a living environment. And as a living system, it is equally natural and right that the relationship go through stages. In any relationship, there are different dimensions of closeness—physical, emotional, and intellectual. Bodily contact, sharing emotions, thoughts, and exchanging ideas are all legitimate ways of connecting with those we love. It is normal for the balance to wax and wane: sometimes physical closeness decreases but emotional closeness can increase; at other times we don't feel like sharing words but just want to be held. If we are sensitive to this issue, we can rejoice in the initial bloom of passion in a relationship, but if it cools, instead of feeling worry or anger, we can open ourselves to new forms of intimacy that can be equally—or perhaps more—satisfying. We can delight in our partner as a companion, enjoy a steadier love, a deeper bond.

In his book
Intimate Bebavior,
DesmondMorris describes the normal changes that occur in a human being's need for closeness. He suggests that each of us repeatedly goes through three stages: “Hold me tight,” “Put me down,” and “Leave me alone.” The cycle first becomes apparentin the firstyears of life when children move from the “hold me tight” phase characteristic of infancy to the “put me down” stage when the child first begins to explore the world, crawl, walk, and achieve some independence and autonomy from the mother. This is part of normal development and growth. These phases do not just move in one direction, however ; at various stages a child may experience some anxiety when the feeling of separateness becomes too great, and then the child will return to the mother for soothing and closeness. In adolescence, “leave me alone” becomes the predominant phase as the child struggles to form an individual identity. Although this may be difficult or painful for the parents, most experts recognize it as a normal and necessary phase in the transition from childhood to adulthood. Even within this phase, there is still a mixture of phases. While the adolescent is crying “Leave me alone!” to his parents at home, the “hold me tight” needs may be met by strong identification with the peer group.

In adult relationships as well, the same flux occurs. Levels of intimacy change, with periods of greater intimacy alternating with periods of greater distance. This is also part of the normal cycle of growth and development. To reach our full potential as human beings, we need to be able to balance our needs for closeness and union with times when we must turn inward, with a sense of autonomy, to grow and develop as individuals.

As we come to understand this, we will no longer react with horror or panic when we first notice ourselves “growing apart” from our partner, any more than we would panic while watching the tide go out at the seashore. Of course, sometimes a growing emotional distance can signal serious problems in a relationship (an unspoken undercurrent of anger for instance), and even breakups can occur. In those cases, measures such as therapy can be very helpful. But the main point to keep in mind is that a growing distance doesn't
automatically
spell disaster. It can also be part of a cycle that returns to redefine the relationship in a new form that can recapture or even surpass the intimacy that existed in the past.

So, the act of acceptance, of acknowledging that change is a natural part of our interactions with others, can play a vital role in our relationships. We may discover that it is at the very time when we may feel most disappointed, as if something has gone out of the relationship, that a profound transformation can occur. These transitional periods can become pivotal points when true love can begin to mature and flower. Our relationship may no longer be based on intense passion, the view of the other as the embodiment of perfection, or the feeling that we are merged with the other. But in exchange for that, we are now in a position to truly begin to know the other—to see the other as he or she is, a separate individual, with faults and weaknesses perhaps, but a human being like ourselves. It is only at this point that we can make a genuine commitment, a commitment to the growth of another human being—an act of true love.

Perhaps Margaret's marriage could have been salvaged by accepting the natural change in the relationship and forming a new relationship based on factors other than passion and romance.

Fortunately, however, the story didn't end there. Two years after my last session with Margaret, I ran into her at a shopping mall (the situation of running into an ex-patient in a social setting is one that invariably makes me, like most therapists, feel a bit awkward).

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Things couldn't be better!” she exclaimed. “Last month, my ex-husband and I remarried.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and it's going great. We continued to see each other, of course, because of the joint custody. Anyway, it was difficult at first ... but after the divorce, somehow the pressure was off. We didn't have any expectations .anymore. And we found out that we really did like each other and love each other. Things still aren't the same as when we were first married, but it doesn't seem to matter
_;
we're really happy together. It just feels right.”

Th
^e
fourth-century Desert Fathers, an assortment of eccentric characters who retired to the deserts around Scete for a life of sacrifice and prayer, taught this story to illustrate the value of suffering and hardship. It wasn't hardship alone, however, that opened the “city of wisdom” to the disciple. The prime factor that allowed him to deal so effectively with a difficult situation was his capacity to
shift perspective,
to view his situation from a different vantage point.

The ability to shift perspective can be one of the most powerful and effective tools we have to help us cope with life's daily problems. The Dalai Lama explained:

“The ability to look at events from different perspectives can be very helpful. Then, practicing this, one can use certain experiences, certain tragedies to develop a calmness of mind. One must realize that every phenomena, every event, has different aspects. Everything is of a relative nature. For example, in my own case, I lost my country. From that viewpoint, it is very tragic—and there are even worse things. There's a lot of destruction happening in our country. That's a very negative thing. But if I look at the same event from another angle, I realize that as a refugee, I have another perspective. As a refugee there is no need for formalities, ceremony, protocol. If everything were status quo, if things were okay, then on a lot of occasions you merely go through the motions
_;
you pretend. But when you are passing through desperate situations, there's no time to pretend. So from that angle, this tragic experience has been very useful to me. Also, being a refugee creates a lot of new opportunities for meeting with many people. People from different religious traditions, from different walks of life, those who I may not have met had I remained in my country. So in that sense it's been very, very useful.

“It seems that often when problems arise, our outlook becomes narrow. All of our attention may be focused on worrying about the problem, and we may have a sense that we're the only one that is going through such difficulties. This can lead to a kind of self-absorption that can make the problem seem very intense. When this happens, I think that seeing things from a wider perspective can definitely help—realizing, for instance, that there are many other people who have gone through similar experiences, and even worse experiences. This practice of shifting perspective can even be helpful in certain illnesses or when in pain. At the time the pain arises it is of course often very difficult, at that moment, to do formal meditation practices to calm the mind. But if you can make comparisons, view your situation from a different perspective, somehow something happens. If you only look at that one event, then it appears bigger and bigger. If you focus too closely, too intensely, on a problem when it occurs, it appears uncontrollable. But if you compare that event with some other greater event, look at the same problem from a distance, then it appears smaller and less overwhelming.”