Devotion

There’s immense power in devotion. As I’ve come to experience it in my relationship with my partner, it requires a steadfast compassion and strength no matter what we’re experiencing as a couple or as individuals on our unique paths.

What started off as a natural disposition of my character within partnership has transformed into a conscious practice that I’m continually invited to commit myself to. Early on in my relationship with my partner, Mike, devotion not only took the form of monogamy and companionship, but to also becoming a partner that nurtured both of us as we were, while resting in the knowing of the kind of relationship I knew we were “meant to” have.

It was very much a conscious choice for me to act towards Mike with devotion regardless of his reactions to it. For much of the beginning portion of our relationship, I experienced him as reluctant to enter into partnership for fear of his past hurt repeating itself. Part masochist, part naturally compassionate lover, I knew I had developed the chops to deal with what he presented to me as more than just the resistance he showed me. I was devoted to “us”, a “we” that hadn’t even formed yet, but I knew had potential far beyond the dance we were currently dancing.

Some would call this foolishness, falling in love with potential that may never be actualized. Some would be right. I’ve seen and heard about it time and again when a woman’s efforts aren’t received by the man she loves who never wanted the growth she wanted for him. Unfortunately, that’s not devotion, that’s self-destruction for the sake of another disguised as love. In my experience, it required (and still does) a fine balance of discernment to know how much I was consciously willing to sacrifice and how willing and able Mike was to work on himself enough to receive my devotion.

And so began my apprenticeship with devotion as my teacher in order to ride this fine balance of honoring myself and supporting the man I love. The only thing I could point to externally as a guide was how we, as a culture, devote ourselves to deities, gods and religious doctrine, like celibacy or not driving in your car during the Sabbath. I noticed that these were examples of things we devote ourselves to that are static in nature and don’t waver. Sometimes, our devotion waxes and wanes, but what these things represent to us generally remains the same.

Yet, Mike isn’t a Buddha (although he resembles him sometimes); he’s a living man with wounds, desires and baggage. His metaphorical tides change with the moon just as my own do, day after day. His confidence changes with his own internal winds. His mood experiences highs and lows. His ability to regulate his emotions has strong and weak moments. His word, no matter how hard he tries, sometimes breaks. All temporarily. All very naturally. Sometimes, as a human navigating the same seas as me, he says or does the “wrong” thing.

It’s been my conscious reaction to him in these moments that has taught me that devotion doesn’t only need to be reserved for static icons of which we generally have the expectation of perfection. As a woman, I’m often seeking security within our relationship, the protective and impenetrable yang to my tender and ever-changing yin. Yet, I have to continually remind myself that Mike, too, has these aspects of himself and it is my responsibility to shed light on the parts of me that create unconscious and often conscious expectations that he will be everything that I want him to be, right now and always and forever. I finally had to ask myself the hard but entirely liberating question of, what am I actually devoted to if not the things he represents to me and yet, that he doesn’t always live up to (and actually can’t or shouldn’t need to!)?

I found it incredibly liberating to experience devotion that was not pointed at a fixed representation of Mike as a man and partner, but to that which is the moving target of his own growth and greatness. It continually asks me to keep my devotion to him static and not the measure of the man in front of me. True devotion doesn’t wane or wax, it is a lighthouse when the storm of our lives arrives on shore. Through bouts of madness, insecurity, insanity, anger, confusion, depression or however the trigger manifests for either of us, I ask myself how much can my devotion to his highest good help both of us weather the storm and be better for it when the clouds part?

In this (overly-nautical) metaphor, I’ve learned to become the sea creature goddess whose strength and love grows, even in the face of his darkest moments. Each time he is triggered by his own reactions to trauma, or merely forgets for a moment the greatness of his own being, I practice devotion to offer him a way out of his temporary madness and to give myself the compassion I need to ride the storm. Sometimes I remind him verbally of my love for him and for us. I let my love surpass that of his own in the moment, and I steady myself in the imbalance that naturally rights itself time and time again. Sometimes I internally reframe something he’s said to remind myself of his overall innocence. I choose to hear him through my compassionate ears and not as a victimized scorned woman. Sometimes I stand in the powerful energy of my knowing that I’m creating my own reality in every interaction we have. I remind myself of my incredible strength and power that has over time dissolved his hardened heart and opened mine far beyond what I ever imagined.

The more I’ve leaned into these responses, the easier the balance of discernment has been to navigate. In the beginning, I was surprised that he didn’t process my devotion as I meant it. I sometimes felt dismissed, ignored, and fought against instead of well received. As a result, I often felt hurt and misunderstood, and it was harder to know whether I was honoring myself or barking up the wrong tree. But I also leaned on my determined, stubborn nature to remind me of the kind of partner I wanted to learn to be, and that’s someone that quietly forgives and tries again. I let the fierce love I have for Mike in my heart burn brighter and brighter for him, not in spite of his reactions, but because of them. The more pushback I received, the more I could feel the part of him that longed to surrender to the devotion he unknowingly always wanted.

What emerged from there taught me a great lesson in discernment; everything becomes clear with patience and sometimes on the other side of fogginess is an experience never thought possible. Devoting myself fully to Mike and our evolution as a couple not only softened Mike into what he describes as his most relaxed self in a relationship but filled a deep well in me that continues to be highly satisfied living in such a state of devotion.

Riding the fine line of discernment while learning to cultivate devotion as a practice isn’t one size fits all. It’s specific to every person and every couple. Sometimes staying on the devotional course is the answer and sometimes it becomes clear a different path is the healthier choice. And while our success as a couple is just as attributed to Mike’s willingness as it is to my compassionate temperament, the state of devotion that I’ve reached with him can actually be accessed with anyone and anything, and goes far beyond a love story or particular person. We each have the ability to be in devotion to life, letting it soften and strengthen us, rather than wear us down and defeat us.

Now, I see devotion as a life-raft in the dark times, an island to rest on in the calm waters of life, and a place to sail out for adventure from, time and again. For Mike, knowing I’m there, open-hearted and blameless, hell or high water, he finally feels like the god that he truly is (and always has been). It turns out, it’s devotion that makes the god, not the god that earns our devotion.