on partnering

To me, the word partner refers to the symbiotic relationship that occurs when organisms inhabit defined spaces. It acknowledges

a collective coexistence in which we directly and indirectly affect one another simply by being in the same place together.

So when we refer to partnering with spaces or your body or others – it’s a commitment. It requires something of you, a practice, daily desire, a willingness to deeply listen and to be influenced by something outside of yourself. When you partner with something, there is deep respect, a choice to engage in a larger dance, trusting you’ll be profoundly changed by the shared experiences.

There is no control in partnering.

Yet, it demands your full self, finding… choosing… speaking the words that arise from within you, taking the actions that are required in order for the space between you to keep balance.

Balance requires movement.

We are never completely still. It's physiologically impossible. Cells regenerate, blood courses through the body, the heart beats…

Balance is not stillness, it’s flow.

So if something is out, out of sorts, off, then the whole relationship is asking for something new. It’s ready for something new, different, from all involved. Not just one.

Get quiet – through meditation or music or a walk or whatever deep practice sets your own recalibration – and see if there is a bird’s eye view from a wider, longer, higher vantage point – where it’s no longer binary, but rather it’s a oneness that wants attention. Get beyond your own opinion, your own feeling of needing to be right, and listen to any deep whispers that tap you on the shoulder, offering a new possibility. This is a wildness, but remember, it only seems that way because it’s different than your current experience. That's the point. To be some place new. Together.

Change is natural. To not change ensures chaos.

Here in Southern Maine, I only need to walk outside to learn this. It's early March. Nothing is consistent. Small white caps on the ocean waters, birds singing loudly one day and silent the next, patches of grass ash brown with spurts of bright green and blobs of heavy unmelted snow… One day there is a blizzard, another warm sun, heavy winds, then nothing but steady rain.

Every day is a surprise. If ever I think I’m stuck, I just look to the sky and watch the clouds move. Things are in motion, just not always in ways that I can or am willing to see.

So I partner with this unknowing… with a balance of yesterday and today. Perfect solutions arise, until a new piece of information floats in... and I balance again. 

~ fia