Exposure and discovery: The key to intimacy

Intimacy is about exposure. It is allowing someone to see who you really are.

In one form or another, our self-beliefs and self-concepts tell us that there is something wrong with us. That if we allow someone to see who we are inside, they will reject us and leave us. So we present ourselves in a way that spins who we are to make us more socially acceptable. We wear a mask.

The downside of hiding or cloaking yourself is that no one really gets to know who you are really are. You are are all alone with how you feel inside. This is the one of the reasons that loneliness is so rampant in our culture.

So if you want to be close with someone you have to be willing to risk. You EXPOSE who you really are to them. One piece at time. You have to trust that they are strong enough to accept and support who we are. And trust that you are strong enough to heal yourself and reconfigure your life if they are not able to. You will feel a bit vulnerable after you expose something real about yourself. Although uncomfortable- that is a sign that you are on the right track.

And... you have to be willing to DISCOVER who they really are. You invite them to expose who they are. When they start sharing something about themselves, you listen and encourage them to continue. Your only intention is discovering and accepting who they are. Ask inquisitive questions. Do not judge or try to solve anything for them. They will be watching closely to see if you are able to accept them.

So if you want to feel close to someone, risk exposing who you are and discovering who they are. Life is much more enjoyable when you have someone to share yourself with.

What energy does this experience require?

We typically respond to situations by what we say or do. But it is also essential to consider how we say it or do it. With what emotional or life energy do we offer our words or actions? Is it soft and compassionate? Is it strong and intense? Is it playful and humorous?

Obviously, different experiences require different energies. So when we approach an experience and consider what to do, we might also consider what type of energy that experience requires.

People respond to the energy that you carry more than the words or even actions. And it makes actions and words be understood and have more of an impact. It adds color and richness to the experience.

It is when a parent finds the way that there child misbehaved is somewhat humorous- but they want to send the message that what the child did is serious. So they care enough to pull up the energy of being strict and strong. If they do not, the child will not take them seriously and learn anything.

We typically have some energies that we are more comfortable at carrying than others. We tend to offer our default energy with everything that we do.

Offering different energies allows us to be dynamic. We have to be willing to go beyond our inhibition and "play act" that energy. This is what good actors are able to do. They are able to project the energy of what they are saying and doing. So much that you can feel it across the screen. It is real because they pull it up from inside themselves.

People may think we are weird, intense, no fun, over the top, bitchy, not cool, or silly. There is a good chance that they will not like us at the time of that experience. We have to be willing to risk.

So next time you are considering what to say or do- ask yourself, "What energy will express what I am trying to say or do here." Then... find the strength to pull that energy up and offer it.

Is there something you are trying to say to me?

Ever have someone try to communicate with you indirectly? They might hint at something, rather than directly asking you. They might say one thing, but really mean something else. They might even say something to their pet that is really intended for you. Is it just me, or is this maddening? It always seems a bit childish to me.

So... next time someone tries to communicate with you indirectly, consider asking them, "Is there something that you trying to say to me?" Granted, it is a little confrontational, but it is also an invitation to be honest. It is reaching out to hear them and to know them.

If you are like me, maybe you occasionally communicate indirectly yourself. If so, this blog is for that part of you, too. Ask yourself, "What am I really trying to say to them. How can I say it honestly and directly?"

Fact is, most of us often do not feel safe enough to communicate honestly. We do not feel safe to expose what we really want. We may be afraid that there is something wrong with wanting that. We might hurt their feelings. They may get mad at us. It might cause tension. It might cause them to retreat and become more distant. It opens us up to rejection or retaliation.

For me, it gets down to trusting that this relationship is strong enough to be honest. If it is not, then it may need some shaking up anyway. So the core is caring enough to get out of my comfort zone. It is willingness to risk. That is... being willing to risk what I have for something better.

Metaphor of the Rose: With Beauty comes Pain

One of my all-time favorite metaphors is that of the rose. It has beauty and delicateness, but also thorns. My interpretation is that with beauty comes pain. With the love and the unfoldment of beauty with another human comes inevitable pain. They are a package deal. We can't care that deeply with another and expect to not get hurt.

Most of us have been hurt or betrayed by loving someone. We seek the love and beauty that comes from exposing our hearts and becoming vulnerable, yet we are reluctant to do so because we got hurt bad when we did this before. We are afraid that we might not survive being hurt like that again. If we allow (or have allowed) ourselves to feel and heal the pain of being hurt before, it should help us believe that we could heal it again. We learn to "believe in our survivability." Then, it is just an issue of willingness to risk.

We tell ourselves a story that we can experience the beauty of love without really letting go. We figure we can have the beauty and unfoldment of the rose without the pain. We allow ourselves to experience some safe, guarded, and superficial love and tell ourselves it is the real deal. But then why are we still so lonely? Deep down we know that it is not the same.

The metaphor of the rose is here to remind us that if we want the true beauty and fulfillment of love, we have to accept that pain comes with it. Are we willing to risk being hurt again?