Getting Clear on Relationships: An East-West Approach

In Yoga Journal’s Archives series, we share a curated collection of articles originally published in past issues beginning in 1975. These stories offer a glimpse into how yoga was interpreted, written about, and practiced throughout the years. This article first appeared in the March/April 1981 issue of Yoga Journal. Find more of our Archives here. 

Spiritual practice is usually perceived as individualistic and intrapsychic—as something we do alone. Traditionally, Eastern meditation practices have been mainly associated with a life of retreat in a monastic setting. Western culture, on the other hand, gave birth to the Romantic ideal: the view that the highest happiness comes through discovering a loving relationship with an ideal partner. Both these views are becoming obsolete as we evolve emotionally and spiritually.

We have witnessed a steady influence of the East upon our spiritually hungry Western world. We are now beginning to experience a counterinfluence of our Western culture upon the Eastern view. As Eastern thought permeates our culture, it is adapted to the Western mind. As Jacob Needleman explains, “the leaders of the new religions themselves—the numerous gurus and spiritual teachers now in the West—are reformulating and adapting the traditional systems according to the language and atmosphere of modern psychology.”¹ One of the more significant adaptations now occurring is the growing belief that our Western quest for meaningful relationships can be an integral part of our spiritual practice and growth.

We may discover more about who we are by entering into relationship with our fellow humans. As we learn to experience life beyond the narrow confines of our personal desires, beliefs, perceptions, thoughts, judgments, etc., we begin to touch more closely upon the experience and life of others—entering a more transpersonal dimension of reality. We may touch a place of resonance between our own being and the vital being of another. This is relationship in its deepest sense—from being to being.

But before we learn to relate more consistently on this transpersonal level, we need to deal with the volatile personality and its narrow self-image,² irritating emotions, unmet needs, and conflicting desires. Psychotherapy, which has grown out of the specific needs and temperament of Western people, is one effective “yoga of the West.” It is a skillful technique well-suited to helping resolve the intrapsychic and interpersonal conflicts which afflict the Western mind. Although some people unfortunately associate psychotherapy with such things as past parental influence, medical model terminology, a cold nonresponsive therapist and the proverbial “couch,” in its more refined and humanistic forms it may provide the most skillful tools for dealing with many human problems. As one loosens knots which relate to emotional entanglements, one may be better prepared for deeper levels of experience and being.³ Ken Wilbur speaks clearly to the issue of the appropriate therapy for particular levels of the “spectrum of consciousness”:

While we find ourselves at the Ego Level or the Existential Level, let us avail ourselves of the existing methods—largely “Western”—of creating healthy egos, of integrating projections, of coming to grips with unconscious drives and wishes, of structurally re-aligning our bodily postures, of accepting responsibility for our being-in-the-world, of dealing with neurosis, of living to our full potential as individuals. But should we seek to go beyond the confines of the individual self, to find an even richer and fuller level of consciousness, then let us learn from those investigators—largely “Eastern”—of the Level of Mind, of mystical awareness, of cosmic consciousness.⁴

It is certainly obvious that Eastern and Western approaches to consciousness can be used separately, for that is exactly what is happening today; but it should now be clear that they can also be used in a complementary fashion.⁵

Rather than bypassing an essential level of the spectrum of consciousness (a trait which appears to characterize many people in spiritual movements), overall growth may be better served by honoring and dealing appropriately with all aspects of oneself. This involves a holistic approach to personal/spiritual growth—one which recognizes different approaches for different issues. A useful analogy of this developmental view is depicted in the novel Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse. Disillusioned with his spiritual search, Siddhartha realized that he needed something else for his growth. So he took a few steps back (or ahead, according to one’s point of view) and became involved in worldly life. He met Kamala, and learned a great deal from his emotional involvement with her. He then worked as a businessman and learned important lessons about power and prestige from his business dealings. All of this served his ultimate goal of genuine and complete spiritual growth (on all chakra levels) including, rather than bypassing, all levels of the spectrum of consciousness. He learned to welcome a full range of human emotions rather than avoiding or resenting certain aspects of being human.

Greeting Emotions

Emotions which arise in relationships can be grist for the mill in the process of full awakening. Rather than viewing them as intrusive or interfering with our spiritual practice (a prevalent attitude at many spiritual communities, often involving the separation of men from women at community gatherings), emotions can become another legitimate object of meditation. That is, we can greet these emotions, whether painful or pleasant, without having to “do” anything except experience the quality of feeling which is present. This involves letting feelings be rather than letting them go. We may then choose to explore the feeling a bit, sensing the texture or meaning within or behind the feeling. For instance, one may experience an initial attraction for a certain person. One could simply avoid that person or put aside the feelings by returning to our mantra or by plunging into another work project or some sedating activity like watching television. Or, we may choose to explore the meaning behind our feelings of attraction. We may discover, for instance, that the attractive qualities perceived in the other are ones we need for our own growth. We may need to integrate qualities such as calmness, introspection, self-expression, aliveness, patience or wisdom—qualities one may easily recognize and respond to in others, but lack in oneself. Recognizing this, we may choose to enter into relationship with a particular person in order to help incorporate a missing piece into the total puzzle of who we are. From this point of view, spiritual growth may be furthered by listening to our inner sense of guidance and entering into relationship with those we feel an attraction toward (beyond, though not excluding, sexual attraction). By dismissing such attractions as mere desire, or by failing to summon the courage to risk involvement, we may be closing off an important arena for growth; we cautiously retreat to what is safe and comfortable, rather than stretch toward the further edge of our evolution.

Role of the Therapist/Guru: Uncovering the Self

Both Eastern and Western traditions recognize the necessity of working with an appropriate guide. Our personal areas of shortsightedness lead to a loss of proper perspective. As we narrowly identify with cherished feelings, a belief system or self-image, we lose sight of things as they actually are. This can interfere greatly with developing harmonious interpersonal relationships. When attention gets caught up within our own complex intrapsychic webs, we may lose sight of others for who they really are, and perceive them only from the point of view of our own needs.

In light of these “perils of the path,” what is the proper role of a guide, whether guru or therapist? The authoritative role consists of dispensing knowledge to a receptive and surrendering student. This approach is often effective in producing certain useful results. The danger is that there may merely be a transfer of data restricted to the cognitive level. Philosophical teachings may be inspiring and comforting, but if they are not felt and integrated by the student, they remain empty of real meaning. They remain part of “maya“—the world of relative reality, separate from a deeper felt experience of things as they actually are. They remain the words of the guru, rather than reality as actually experienced by oneself. In such a case, it is easy to lose trust in one’s own experience, in favor of following a set of tenets or prescribed behaviors divorced from our own inner sense of guidance. As the Dhammapada warns: “Better is your own Dhamma (path), however weak, than the Dhamma of another, however noble. Look after your self, and be firm in your goal.”6

An alternative role of the guru/therapist is to encourage individuals to explore their own inner experience in a more democratic context, reminiscent of the Buddhist view which sees the teacher as a spiritual friend. The task here is more subtle and requires greater personal attention to the unique needs of each person. Through patient exploration of feelings and their meanings, and by uncovering idiosyncratic habits which sabotage self-insight, we can unravel progressively deeper levels of experience. This may gradually lead to the deeper core of ourselves, which is the goal of both Eastern spiritual paths and Western psychotherapy. A democratic approach of mutual exploration by student and guide is well-exemplified by the more recent Western therapeutic innovation known as “focusing,” which contains striking parallels to some Buddhist forms of meditation. According to its founder, Dr. Eugene Gendlin, focusing:

… is a process in which you make contact with a special kind of internal bodily awareness … a ‘felt sense.’ A felt sense is not an emotion, and focusing is not a process in which you ‘face’ painful emotions nor one in which you sink down into them and risk drowning. Conversely, it is not an intellectual or analytical process either. 7

This process of focusing, the result of years of research into what makes psychotherapy effective, involves contacting one’s own bodily, felt sense of a particular issue or problem, and, through asking the right kinds of questions, discovering the related deeper meaning and coming 10 terms with what needs to happen in order to achieve resolution.

In some Zen traditions, a similar approach is used. The Zen master asks skillful questions with the intention of helping the student look beneath familiar mental responses and habits in favor of contacting a deeper, more intuitive sense of knowing. The assumption, as in focusing, is that the deeper wisdom is contained within each of us—waiting to be tapped through skillful means (upaya).

From the point of view that each individual contains the “kingdom of God within,” we may more deeply explore our relationship with ourselves and with others through the aid of a non-attached guide who can emphatically and skillfully lead us to resolve conflicts which impede both sell-awareness and mature interpersonal relationships. As we acknowledge and explore previously unconscious feelings and their related meanings (the specialty of Western psychotherapy), we may experience openings which naturally lead to deeper levels of experience (the domain of spiritual paths and transpersonally-oriented therapy). A guide can support us in paying more attention to areas we conveniently ignore or avoid. As a result of acknowledging or “owning” these personal areas of vulnerability, we may be less likely to project our own shadowy parts onto others—a tendency which is a major cause of pain and separation in relationships.

Communication Skills

Learning to communicate effectively and meaningfully with others can become a type of meditation in action, and is a crucial aspect of transpersonal growth. Clear communication begins with a calm inner acknowledgment of our immediate experience—quieting the internal dialogue to explore feelings and what lies beneath our surface thoughts. Sensing the texture of our experience may lead us to discover hitherto unknown dimensions of thought, feeling and desire.

For example, our initial experience of a particular circumstance or event may lead us to feel angry; say our partner is not spending as much time with us as we would like. As we further explore our sense of the situation, it may turn out that we feel a certain sadness or loneliness behind the anger. This may lead, in one hypothetical case, to an experience of fear of being alone—a fear to face ourselves in our basic aloneness. This new discovery certainly broadens the context beyond our initial experience of the issue. We may then want to look within and slowly explore that aloneness and see what that vague fear is about: what it means for us to be alone; its possible roots in the past; the feelings surrounding it; how that relates to our partner, etc. Greeting and entering into a feeling, and examining its significance, may lead to a change in the feeling and the way the related issues are experienced. We may then want to communicate this experience to an understanding partner or friend. Often when we let others know about the issue we are dealing with, they will offer support or help you explore the issue of being alone and in a relationship.

In hypothetical case number two, we may experience an initial sadness related to the same issue—our partner is not spending as much time with us as we would like. As we further explore the felt meaning behind this feeling, we may discover that we have a strong wish to be with this person. Rather than a fear of aloneness, it may be a simple preference to share more time with someone we love. In this case, we may want to communicate our experience to the particular person rather than remain silent and isolated. We might say something such as, “I am feeling some sadness and it has to do with not spending as much time with you as I would like. I enjoy being with you and would like to be with you more often.” This type of “I” statement communicates the experience clearly and effectively and helps create a non-threatening environment where the other may respond honestly. Communication tends to break down when, in order to defend ourselves, we retreat into accusatory “you” statements such as, “You’re never home in the evening,” or “You’re always busy doing something else.” Decoded, the “you” message is interpreted as “I’m not okay because I don’t spend enough time with him/her,” whereas the “I” message decodes as, “He/she likes me and would like to spend more time with me.” The former invites a battle; the latter creates a safe place from which to further explore and communicate.

This kind of open communication can lead to a deeper intimacy in interpersonal relationships. The word “intimacy” derives from the Latin root meaning “inmost.” It involves a process of being open and vulnerable to the more delicate feelings involved in being human, and the willingness to communicate these inmost feelings. Although we risk being hurt through increased vulnerability, we also remain open to the possibility of deeper fulfillment. We are able to see through the fearful, self-protective veneer which isolates us from others. This isolation, when faced, is also painful, though in a different way. The intelligence of our organism has devised complex ways to protect us from unpleasant feelings of pain and hurt but the result is that we lower our level of aliveness. This may be experienced as a numbness, confusion, a vague feeling of discontent, or lack of meaning in our lives.

Greeting emotions or conflicts that arise in interpersonal relationships can help us better explore our lives and our relationships. We may explore the experience alone or enlist the aid of a supportive guide or trusted counselor. We may also wish to communicate our experience directly to those with whom we are involved. Exploring together the vague edges of our discontent can lead to greater intimacy by unfreezing those areas which we normally hide due to fear. If we are willing to enter relationships with eyes open, and grant permission to communicate our experience to one another without blaming or judging, then the possibility widens for using relationships as an integral part of spiritual growth.

Footnotes

1. Needleman, Jacob, and Lewis, Cennis, ed., On the Way to Self-Knowledge. Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1976, p. 5.
2. Amodeo, John, “Spiritual Practice and the Death of Self-Image”, Yoga Journal, J/F, 1977.
3. See Wellwood, John, “Befriending Emotion: Self-Knowledge and Transformation”, Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1979, pp. 141-160.
4. Wilbur, Ken, The Spectrum of Consciousness, Quest Book, Wheaton, Ill., 1977, pp. 20-21.
5. New Directions, New York, 1951.
6. The Dhammapada, P. Lal, Farrar, Staus & Giroux, New York, 1967.
7. Gendlin, Eugene, Focusing. Everest House, New York, 1978: see book review in this issue.

John Amodeo, M.F.C.C., is completing his Ph.D. in Transpersonal Psychology; his doctoral dissertation is on the complementary effects of meditation and focusing. He has been a contributing editor to Yoga Journal for the past four years and is a faculty member of Holistic life University. He has a counseling practice in San Francisco and Mill Valley, where he specializes in relationships counseling and Transpersonally-oriented therapy. Requests for reprints or communication with author to: 328 Summit Ave., Mill Valley, CA 94941.