My husband and I have been in deep negotiations the last month or so. We’ve just had our 4th wedding anniversary and I call this stage:
“These-are-the-things-I-secretly-thought-would-change-about-you-and they-haven’t-so-how-am-I-going-to-live-with-them-for-the-rest-of-my-life.”
It turns out there are some very specific things that we each want from the relationship that we aren’t getting. And when we talk about them, it’s so very easy to come at them from the level of complaint.
“We never…”
“I always end up…”
I’m sure this approach is entirely unfamiliar to you, gentle readers! But in our house, we’re pretty good at it.
One of the things I’m working on these days is being more present to what my heart is longing for. I couldn’t always feel it or tell what it was, but now it’s a tangible sweet ache, a slight magnetic pulling on my heart.
So this time, when we got into our complaints, I started looking for the desires and longings underneath them.
And lo and behold, instead of feeling “wrong” for not initiating walks and bike rides, I was able to hear how much connection my husband feels between us when we do outdoor activities together, and how much that means to him and how much he misses it.
What a different response! I was feeling understanding instead of just retreating inside myself and feeling blamed.
But when it was my turn, I noticed it was easier to listen for his longings than to share my own.
It’s a deeply vulnerable thing to share a longing with someone close to us.
Our inner defenses want to keep us in the story of how we’ll never have it, and how much that sucks. A part of us wants to stay bitter and distant and keep on complaining.
But something happens when we’re willing to stand in the deep honesty and vulnerability of our longing.
A bridge is built, a distance closes between our hearts. Truth and aliveness are there.
Something more is possible.
The biggest difference I notice right now between longing and complaint is that longing always seeks to move forward, and complaint always wants to stay put.
Have you noticed that? You would think that complaining about something would bring it to light and start to change the situation, but I don’t find that happens.
It’s almost as though the part of us that’s complaining has a secret agenda that doesn’t really want things to change, it just wants to get energy by complaining about it!
I suspect this is the part of us that doesn’t want to acknowledge the hurt of an unmet desire because…
… longing and pain often go together.
That’s why longing often stays buried, so we don’t have to feel the pain of not having it yet. And that’s why it’s such a vulnerable thing to share our longing with another, or sometimes even with ourselves.
So the next time you catch yourself complaining, ask yourself “What am I really longing for?”
And try listening more deeply to others’ complaints for what they’re longing for.
In both cases, you’ll be deepening your relationship.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences with longing, complaints and the like. Share your comments below.










{ 2 comments }
Susan, this is lovely–a wise and generous post. Thank you.
Longing is my heart’s voice. The more I make room for what my heart needs–and the more I listen to what the people I love are longing for too–the richer and deeper my relationships become.
Wishing you and your husband many more nourishing, heart-filling years together.
Thank you Hiro! Longing is such a powerful thing.
And I must say I had a wonderful browse of your blog the other night, and especially enjoyed the post on the 4 types of leadership. It’s great to connect with you!
Susan