Love Dharma. Geri Larkin
personal wholeness that was so attractive to the princes and to King Bimbisara—her absence of neediness and her ability to leave any relationship that did not respect her independence as a woman. Ambapali lived her relationships as partnerships, not as subjugation. She was independent, clear about what mattered to her, and fearless when it came to disagreeing with her lovers. When she wanted to care for Buddha and his followers, she didn’t ask anyone’s permission. When she decided to follow him herself, again she asked no one’s permission. When she decided to give him a mango grove, it was her own choice. This independence never cost her suitors or patrons. Ironically, it was the combination of her independence, feistiness, and beauty that kept suitors coming to her door until, as an elderly woman, she decided to take a vow of chastity as a nun.
Ambapali realized that she was responsible for her own life. Period. We forget that sometimes. No matter what, in the end, you and I are responsible for ourselves. No one else. Not our husbands, lovers, partners. When we admit to this responsibility and embrace it, all sorts of barriers to spiritual growth and healthy relationships fall away.
Wholeness
Personal wholeness feeds healthy relationships, because it enables us to let go of our craving to have our partners meet so many of our needs. Back when I was way too young to be married, when I was twenty-three (I now happen to believe that the best age for a first marriage is about thirty), I not only married a hunk of a lover but I also immediately (a) got pregnant, and (b) moved two thousand miles away from my family. Within weeks I was depending on my husband for everything. I couldn’t wait for him to get home from school to ask him about his day. And his answer could never just be “good”—I wanted the minutia. How many students had shown up for each class? What did the professor say exactly?
What did he think about what the professor said? Did he have any homework? What was it? Would he like some company while he did it?
To his credit, mostly because his mother apparently raised him to be a martyr, he would answer the questions patiently— every night. Then, after dinner, when all he wanted was some quiet time, I was ready to get out of the house. Could we go to a movie, or for a short hike, or even to the grocery store? Since he was the only person I knew, I fully expected him to go with me, and when he occasionally begged off, I was devastated.
We almost didn’t make it.
After a year I was so miserable and lonely that I went back to school—to graduate school—just to be around other people. Suddenly, a marriage that had deteriorated so badly that my husband had fallen into an affair with a fellow student (the bitch), began to pick up again. The affair ended, I spent most of my free time with friends, and we fell in love at a slightly more mature level. What still fascinates me is that he didn’t end the affair until I was psychologically independent—until I had found my own path and rediscovered a sense of wholeness without his help.
All kinds of partnerships are possible when we are whole. One of the best marriages I have ever known was a husband and wife who literally lived next door to each other. The Portland, Oregon, couple had built two almost identical houses side by side on a lot. They lived independently until one or the other was invited in—for a meal, conversation, a slumber party. She had a job in social work. He was an artist. They had their own friends and a couple of shared ones. Sometimes they took vacations together and sometimes they didn’t. When
I met them I remember being struck by how kind and considerate they were of each other. Nothing was taken for granted.
Psychological independence keeps us interesting. It protects us from potential abuse because, as independent women, staying in a relationship is always a choice. It feeds a confidence that can be sexier than the perfect body.
RELATIONSHIP RULES
Like most of my woman friends, I have spent much of my adult life searching for tools that genuinely help to sustain both love relationships and independence. Tools that promote relationships as partnerships. Over the years, I’ve discovered that, communication skills aside, the best tools are internal to both partners and promote the intention of honoring and protecting the relationship as it grows and evolves. What you and I really need are anchors independent of the relationship. What anchors? Unchanging ones, anchors that are “true” not only in the context of loving another person but that are helpful in the other dimensions of our lives as well. When I started to look for anchors from the larger perspective of feeding all parts of us, choices suddenly narrowed down to a handful or less.
At first I zeroed in on the Golden Rule—treat others as you would like to be treated—for its simplicity. But then I took it out of the running. I don’t know about you, but I don’t always want to be treated the way my partner wants to be treated. Here’s just one example, so trite it could make The Man Show. Someone I’d known intimately for years liked to go to sleep right after sex. Me? I wanted to talk, cuddle, analyze our lives, make future plans. The Golden Rule positioned us for an argument every single time one of us brought it up as a potential relationship ground rule.
I kept looking. Buddhism and the Buddhist precepts, while they go a long way in feeding world peace, did not give me tools for feeding an intimate relationship, although they did provide a broad refuge. Not lying; not taking what isn’t given to us; not engaging in promiscuous sex; not muddying our minds with too much alcohol, drugs, or whatever—all useful. After an embarrassingly long time, given that they are pasted onto the front of my refrigerator, I landed on the six paramitas, or perfections. A core part of Buddha’s teachings, the paramitas are sort of like oil you can throw on a fire to help it to burn brighter. They are typically introduced as behaviors that strengthen spiritual practice. They also happen to be terrific catalysts when it comes to building relationships as partnerships.
May I be generous and helpful. May I be pure and virtuous.
May I be patient. May I be able to bear and forbear the wrongs of others.
May I be strenuous, energetic, and persevering.
May I practice meditation and attain concentration and oneness to serve all beings.
May I gain wisdom and be able to give the benefit of my wisdom to others.
Jackpot.
All the ancients who followed Buddha lived by the paramitas. Starting with Ambapali.
May I Be Generous and Helpful
I’ve always loved weddings. Partly it’s because weddings are so beautiful. Brides always glow. Grooms always weep. Love permeates the air like a drug. Now, one of the perks of being a dharma teacher is that I get to go to between three and six weddings each year—as the minister. It is the single most enjoyable thing I do. The ceremonies are a celebration of life and its possibilities, always filled with excitement and a determination on the part of the couple to make their union one that lasts. Usually the couple asks me for advice—despite my own spotty personal history. My response, and the gift that I give to couples, whatever their spiritual tradition, is a small paperback book by the Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh called Touching Peace. While it is not a book focused solely on personal relationships, it has some of the best advice of any I’ve encountered. And all of it has to do with the six paramitas and how we need to see our partner as precious, whatever our circumstances. Here’s a taste:
We can do this. We see that the other person, like us, has both flowers and compost inside, and we accept this. Our practice is to water the flowerness in her, and not bring her more garbage. We avoid blaming and arguing. When we try to grow flowers, if the flowers do not grow well, we do not blame or argue with them. We blame ourselves for not taking care of them well. Our partner is a flower. If we take care of her well, she will grow beautifully. If we take care of her poorly, she will wither. To help a flower grow well, we must understand her nature. How much water does she need? How much sunshine? We look deeply into ourselves to see our true nature, and we look into the other person to see her nature. . . . We can sit down, hold our partner’s hand, look deeply at him, and say, “Darling, do I understand you enough? Do I water your seeds of suffering? Do I water your seeds of joy? Please tell me how I can love you better.” 5
Loving someone