Fertilize Your Love
by
Judith Sherven, Ph.D. and James Sniechowski, Ph.D.
© 2005
Winter's come and gone. And now, how does your garden
grow?
No doubt it's survived some difficult times during
these past months, and yet it's still there waiting for you to grab
your favorite seeds, a bag of mulch, the trowel, and your flowered
gloves so you can transform it into this year's paradise. That's not
unlike the path of progress for romantic relationships. They, too,
go through challenging conditions followed by new times of growth
and expansion.
So while the grounds surrounding your home may be
calling out for special care and attention, we want to take you for
a stroll through the flower beds of love that live within your home.
You'll be pleased with how gardening can create marvelous magic even
there.
Please join us as we start by introducing the two
largest plants in our home.
We met on a blind date. Jim was 45 and twice divorced.
Judith was 43 and never married. We weren't each other's type and
there wasn't instant chemistry.
Yet, on the fourth date, when we first held hands, we
knew something was happening that went beyond anything we'd ever
experienced or even imagined. It scared us—and it was thrilling. We
didn't yet call it love. It simply announced itself through our
holding hands—the heat, the intensity, the energy of a deeply
connected soul-meeting.
It would be several more dates before we had the
courage to kiss. And when we did, a tidal wave of emotion took over
as Judith began to weep with joy—for reasons too profound to
understand at the time. We couldn't deny what was happening.
Rather soon, we began to discover how very different we
were from each other—sort of like Neatly Tended Bonsai (Judith)
meets Wildly Ranging Grapevine (Jim). We also came to our
relationship with deeply tangled roots from our early years in
separate nurseries where we grew from seedling to maturity, as well
as the hot house pressures of trying to coil ourselves up the rigid
trellises of others' expectations.
Meanwhile, neither of us received expert pruning.
Judith had been excessively trimmed back while Jim lacked
appropriate direction. Hardly stuff for the best
cross-fertilization. Yet we were old enough to know that it was in
our differences that the soil of love could best be fertilized. The
test would come with our first real fight. If only we could fight
for the relationship and not to win.
We'd known each other four months when we went to
Hanford, near the Sierras in Northern California. We had a wonderful
time hiking through the redwoods, taking photographs of each other,
and dancing and watching fireworks on the 4th of July.
As we paid the hotel bill, Jim saw a notice for a jazz
concert a few months later and asked Judith if she'd like to come
back for the event.
Judith was silent.
Rather abruptly and a bit too sharply, Jim said, "Okay,
we won't."
Shocked and hurt, Judith shot back, "What's wrong with
you? I didn't say no."
Contempt curled around the edges. The fight was on.
We stalked out to the car, angry and scared, with
hundreds of miles to go before the safety of our own homes.
Creepy parasites had burrowed up from the depths—Jim's
insecurity and Judith's fear of attack. How would we respond to the
pain that now flooded the blossoming of our togetherness? Would this
tender exposure, forced into awareness by the hurricane of
misunderstanding, kill or fertilize the new love that was taking
root?
After we'd pouted and snarled a bit, we started
settling into the demands of the storm,
realizing that we could either allow the winds to destroy what we
had, or we could join together in discovering a new way to be
together now that the weather had announced the need for change.
Judith: Why did you snap at me? I didn't do anything.
Jim: You were silent for so long, I thought...
Judith: (defensively) I was just thinking!
Jim: Well, why didn't you say so? I thought you hated
my idea.
Judith: You didn't have to take my silence
personally.
Jim: You looked sullen, it made me feel insecure.
Judith: Insecure! Are you kidding!!?? Really? I thought
you were punishing me because I didn't respond immediately. I felt
attacked. The thorny nettles of deep truth were weeding their way
into the open. Would we use them to hurt each other? Or would we
treasure them as the kind of fertilzer necessary to help us grow the
kind of love we wanted to share?
Digging into our conversation with curiosity and
back-and-forth clarification, we slowly unearthed layers of
compassion for one another's injuries. Our growing awareness brought
us much closer and eased the pain of old wounds that accompanied us
on this intimate adventure.
What started out as a "stupid misunderstanding" in a
hotel lobby turned out to be the profound seedling of deepest
romance, richer love, and sweet sympathy for one another. It guided
the rest of our trip home and informs our marriage all these years
later.
We had indeed opened a can of worms. But just the kind
that every gardener hopes for—those that produce rich, robust
fertilizer from digesting whatever they take in.
And conflict is like fertilizer—it may not smell good
but in the end it gives you a really colorful and robust crop.
Sadly, most people avoid fertilizing their love, afraid
they'll create root rot instead of revitalized soil. But that's
because they've never known how important conflict is to their own
self-development, healing, and germinaion of new life. When people
avoid clashing, they prohibit the growth of love and they avoid the
spiritual learning that love was intended to provide.
You see, at the center of an established relationship,
a couple's garden plot will have well defined and agreed upon
boundaries and support structures. Inside the garden it's weeded,
watered, and well tended. Everything is running smoothly and growing
well. But out beyond the limits of their garden, it's nothing but
wilderness.
And when you get into the wilderness of your
relationship, you don't know what the lay of the land is, you don't
know what's going on with each other, and you can easily crash into
each other. That's where most conflicts occur—where the wilderness
needs to be cultivated to become more of your garden.
A conflict is like an SOS. It's saying, "Listen, this
clash of differences is just telling you that change is required.
And the change will domesticate more of your wild territory, so that
your garden can become larger and more beautiful."
No clash is one-sided. When the beans and zucchini feel
invaded by each other's expansive growth, they each have a solid
complaint. Likewise, each person in a conflict has a point of view
that needs to be taken seriously. And each is similar to a plant
species—it needs unique soil, moisture, pruning, and sunlight—and,
to some degree, that's always what each one is fighting for. But
out of ignorance, most people ignore each other's differing needs
and then try to force the other to give up being different. It's
like trying to get a rose to grow in the desert or a pine tree to
take root in sand. It never works.
But when you use conflict as fertilizer, to learn more
about yourself and each other— especially at deeper levels of
emotional experience—then you both feel recognized and understood
for who you really are. You then find yourself wanting to change,
wanting to provide more appropriate conditions for each other's
development, and for the growth of your love.
When you love more fully through the process of
conflict, you are changed. When you are loved as the result of
healthy conflict, you are changed. Just like with nature's spring
flower festival, the more attention you pay to resolving weeds,
mites, and beetle bugs, the more beautiful grows your garden of
love.
Fertilize your love and the blessing of being together.
Fight well. Fight fair. Fight to know each other better
and better.
Fight to grow the love you share.
Only then can you continually turn over new soil,
creating and cultivating the very best growing conditions for your
love.
Husband and wife Judith Sherven,
Ph.D. and James Sniechowski, Ph.D. are the best-selling authors of
Be Loved for Who You Really Are,
The New Intimacy, and Opening to Love 365 Days a Year. They
teach a variety of relationship workshops and teleseminars as well
as consult to businesses. Visit their website at
www.themagicofdifferences.com
Contact them at
jimjude@direcway.com.
For more information please go to:
http://www.thenewintimacy.com
