A Meeting

I, in my careless abandon

You, in a mix of the same with a healthy doze of measured caution

You, with a certain kind of experience

I, with another kind of inexperience

We, seeking a higher human experience

To jump to heights unbeknownst

Maybe poor timing

Most likely wrong match

But as the poem outcries

"I'd risk the fall just to know what it feels to fly."

Self-Sabotage

The very thing that we desire is the very thing that we block ourselves from experiencing. This is a kind of a madness. The deep longing that nudges us to enter relationships, especially the romantic kind, is to connect. Not simply connect. Connect at the core, where two feel like one. This is the meaning of yoga: union. A union that unites pieces that are apart, that are separate. There is a disconnect within and disconnect from others. We long for the distance to disappear and oneness to appear. And yet, the instinct of self-preservation creates a wall, usually thick, that prevents the very act of connection to occur. 

There are two forces that battle within us: the force that wants to reach out and pull the stranger into our interiority, and the force that wants to protect us from being taken over by that very same stranger. This conflict is the mother of all conflicts in our relationships. 

The withdrawing influence of fear is battling the expansion inspired by love. 

The protection mechanism believes that barriers will prevent possible future suffering. The very act of putting up the wall creates suffering, for the possibility of freedom is taken away. Living behind the fence may be familiar and apparently safe, however it paves a way to slow suffocation. On the other hand, opening up fully may feel like a risk. The stranger may take advantage or see deep into our inadequacy. It may feel very uncomfortable but it is precisely here that the opportunity for experiencing oneness is created. We can choose to live in the reptilian brain or become aware of and develop our capabilities as humans. 

It is up to us to choose.