We all construct walls so that people will not get too close or love us too much. We can learn ways to let love through or in, and to approach someone who fears our love. There are techniques that can release the scared ego’s holdouts and hide-outs. We enter gently into the jungle of fear about love, loss, aloneness, abandonment, engulfment, etc. We become heroically defenseless enough to find inner resources so fear can no longer stop us.
David Richo, When Love Meets Fear
Do you ever think that people who find it tougher to say what they are feeling are the ones who feel things more intensely? As if they’re the ones who really understand what it means to love someone? As if they have to keep their defences high, because they care too much and have too much to lose?
Claire Cross
Is there anybody out there?
Pink Floyd, The Wall
The following story, which was related to me over the weekend, resonated strongly:
A couple in late middle age were living in a state of material abundance. By the standards of their society, they had been reasonably successful, had worked hard, raised a family, and saved for their old age. Now empty nesters, more and more of their contact with the wider world was coming from the stream of media messaging provided through the TV set and the many other devices in their household.
The constant stream of news provided by the ubiquitous global 24/7 media machine had had an unsettling effect on them over recent years. It seemed to them that the world was becoming an increasingly dangerous place with each new day.
Feeling frightened by how life was unfolding, they decided that more security would be a good idea, now that they were moving towards the autumn of their lives. So, they decided to relocate, to a gated community in sunny Florida, where they were convinced their material and emotional needs could be met. They were looking forward to the peace of mind they so yearned.
Initially they felt very relaxed and safe in their new home, even a little excited about their new surroundings. Of course, there were some things that took a little getting used to; the friendly greeting of the security guards each time they drove into and left the community through the security barriers.
There were also the protocols to which all residents had to adhere, whenever guests were invited to visit, etc. These were minor inconveniences considering the tranquillity they now experienced in their new home, far removed from the hustle and bustle of general society.
There neighbours were mostly like-minded people of their age group, with whom they engaged in many activities, such a jogging, walking the dogs, watching ball games, or playing cards; all within the safety of their large, peaceful, and beautifully manicured community. Safety and security were high on the list of priorities for most of these new neighbours too.
Safely ensconced behind the CCTV cameras perched atop those sturdy walls, they reflected on their good luck while they often discussed the many public dangers from which they were now protected by their fortunate circumstances.
After a while, however, they began to think about all the non-residents who made their way through the security barriers each day. The UPS drivers, the maintenance crews that repaired their appliances, the gardening crews that mowed their lawns, etc.
Could there be a rotten apple among this army of non-resident visitors? How safe were they really? Seeds of doubt began to sprout in the recesses of their minds. A burglar alarm system for each private home suddenly seemed like a good idea.
Then they noticed how inclined they had become to spend less and less time beyond the walls of their well-guarded community. Though they were fond of the beach, they now had a pool at home and often reflected upon the potential dangers of venturing out into the dangerous world beyond the secure perimeter of their beloved community.
Over time, without noticing, this couple become more restricted and even more fearful than they had been in their original farmstead home in Central Iowa. The longer they lived, the more the vitality drained from their souls.
By the time they realised this, their resolve and courage were so weakened, that they were incapable of even considering changing their circumstances. `I guess this is the way it’s supposed to be,´ was the general reaction.
Today, the urns containing their ashes are respectfully kept, with those of many other former residents, in grounds of the little chapel which sits on a low artificial hill in the middle of the grounds….
When David Richo’s book `When Love Meets Fear’ first caught my attention, it was the subtitle of the book that elicited disquiet on my part. It ran: `How to become defenceless and resourceful´. What kind of concept is that? Surely, we all needed defences to survive in the real world! It took some exploration and time to figure out what he was getting at.
This exploration shone light on the role of defences in my life, how they had developed, and why. Where they had taken me in terms of isolation and loneliness, and how, over recent years, I have turned to face, embrace, and slowly dismantle them while building the resources which would make defences superfluous.
Each of us have had our hearts broken at some time or other, often in the very first phase of childhood, before our fifth birthday. None of us have escaped life’s disappointments and hurts. Most people, particularly men, don’t know how to react — except as children do, in a tantrum of anger and rage.
This defensive, reactionary, and totally understandable posture lays the foundation of the defences we genuinely needed at that time. As we progressed into adolescence, the walls got thicker and higher, and the air within somewhat darker and more stale.
As young adults, with every setback or disappointment, our belief in the necessity of these defences grows even stronger, even though more and more resources become available to us as we mature.
Caught up in old reflexes, we are blind to these new resources and continue to act out the tantrum. This pattern of behaviour takes us nowhere, only creating further cycles of bitterness and retaliation. The self-fulfilling prophesy of the need for ever growing defences has, by now, been firmly established.
It has become clear to me, over time, that most of my anger comes, primarily, from a place of deep sadness. Sadness at the loss of what might have been, what I feel could or perhaps should have been. The premature loss of innocence, the brutally truncated childhood, and unfortunate catapulting into preposterous responsibilities that nobody should be forced to bear at such a tender age.
As long as we are incapable or unwilling to grieve these losses, we will continue to overlook the resources that life offers us. We remain convinced of the indispensability of the defensive fortifications we continue to reinforce, even though we have become lifeless in the damp cold darkness within.
At some point in our adult life, no matter how much effort we expend in protecting ourselves from a repeat of the hurt and abandonment we experienced in childhood — or whatever it was that spawned the belief in the need for impenetrable defences — love may walk in again.
When this suddenly happens, to paraphrase David Richo — in the attentions of another, the defences may be pierced with a desire for our companionship and an l affirmation of our lovability, both unconditional.
This is the moment when we either retreat further into the recesses of our fortress, or, in cases where resources have been sufficiently identified and developed, we dare to embark on a process which leads us to embracing a new way of living.
This process is seldom sudden and clean. It is usually one of iterations, back and forth, in the mode of trial and error. It requires inner courage, encouragement from those with whom we journey, and an array of resources which enable us to relinquish old ideas which, though now debilitating, have been integral to our narrative and self-image for such a long time.
These resources include, as outlined above, the ability to grieve past losses. This practice presupposes a willingness to re-encounter the original childhood pain, — not a given since it runs counter to our old established, very human pain avoidance strategy.
In addition, we will need the capacity to trust, the trust to jump for the first time from the rim of the nest high up in the tree, without a prior guarantee that we can fly. Another key component is the ability to identify, nurture, and trust our innate capacity for healing, wholeness, and bonding with others.
The erroneous belief that life can be managed only behind impenetrable thick walls, such as those that surround the great medieval cities of Europe, germinates from the seeds of not receiving, for whatever reasons, sufficient unconditional love from our caregivers in the very earliest phase of our life.
We will, therefore, need to practice giving and receiving such love in the mindful inner dialogue between our current adult self and the various manifestations of our Inner Child. We may need to reconnect with the five-year-old one day and the rebellious teenager the very next day. With practice, we discover many aspects of our Inner Child and the corresponding untended wounds and, as yet, unmet needs of each one.
Richo breaks the components of unconditional love into five key elements as follows:
- Attention: Engaged presence with, focus on, and attunement with our thoughts, feelings, needs, and wishes.
- Acceptance: Being received respectfully with all our feelings, personal traits, idiosyncrasies, needs, and desires.
- Appreciation: Experiencing recognition, admiration, esteem, and respect for our unique gifts.
- Affection: Closeness, both emotional and physical, in a way that encompasses kindness, consideration, playfulness, thoughtfulness, and humour.
- Allowing: The full range of emotions are accepted. Our unique personhood is given ample space to exist and thrive.
The experience of sufficient mirroring of these Five A’s, from our caregivers in the formative years, enables us to develop a positive regard for our feelings and freedom. This equips us to receive love from another adult later in life.
If that mirroring was absent or insufficient, we may have to re-learn how to receive it in adult life in order to transcend our fear of love and all that love may bring in its wake.
We do this by dismantling the defences which originally served us so well while, at the same time, cultivating the inner practice of the Five A’s in the spirit of compassion for self, others, and circumstances.
Over time, we can develop our capacity for intimate relationships, thus becoming a beacon of love for the entire world, which is exactly what our troubled world so badly needs at this time.
