Walls, and the lesson of the subversive underbelly

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all of the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

While processing the latest in relationship happenings with my physical-psychological-emotional-spiritual integrative healer (a.k.a. my rolfer) last month, he picked up on my habitual patterns and behaviors around boys. After dishing the deets of what he-said-I-said-he-said-I-said, ("I told him 'I kinda want all of you...'" I explained), and then asking how said boy could miss my point of confession, my rolfer called me out (because that's what he does oh-so-well):

"But it's guarded and peppered with attitude," he said. "that's not the true flavor of your heart."

"But then I repeated it and left the "kinda" part out," I replied.

"But it was too late," he said. "You already put up the wall the first time. That's part of your intimidating factor. You need to show your vulnerability, to soften that shell of yours... To let someone in. All that cool snark and wit is your protection mechanism."

Ah. I sat with that one big realization as I faced the wall that I put up around my heart to prevent said heart from the fear of breaking if I said what I really wanted to say in the moment. It was that same fear that made me uncomfortable around guys for as long as I can remember and that made me seem impenetrable to them. Perhaps, too, this wall building was a bit of an unconscious test, or became a game, not simply to keep guys out, but to see if they cared enough to break that wall down. But, instead, I'd find myself sitting on that self-inflicted fortress wondering if I had on boy repellent or if someone put repulsion potion in my water.

Apparently, at some point in my life, I had learned that strong-walled resistance was more comfortable, more safe, than experiencing what might happen if I opened up and let them in - if I really experienced the pure powerful connection of intimacy unriddled with 'unmomentous presence' and without attachment to outcome.

I sat with that lesson and felt the structure around my heart crumble, letting those electric impulses of feeling flow unfettered and with out armour. Perhaps that is how we disarm our fears, how we train our dragons: we drop our weapons and turn to face the fear belly-side first and soften into it. Then, we can really see what comes to meet us.