Spirit

Spirit

Let me sow love

Can we bring balance to any relationship by infusing it with the missing quality? asks 
Suma Varughese

One of the ideals that drive me is to be able to bring to the situation whatever is missing in it, though I am far from having achieved that state. For instance, if there is lack of love in a relationship of mine, can I add more love until the deficit is rectified? Would that not be better than chafing about the other’s lack of love, becoming snappy and resentful, withdrawing our own love, and eventually killing our relationship?

Similarly, can I add any quality which I sense is missing, until the relationship rights itself and becomes all that it is meant to be? If my partner cannot understand me, can I pour more understanding into the equation? If my neighbour is inconsiderate, can I become more considerate, until she catches up and responds in like manner? If my colleague takes all the plum assignments for herself and leaves me with the dregs, can I be more generous when I get the chance to do so?

I think this is what St Francis’s sublime prayer was all about: “Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith.”
I have still to travel much on this path, but the few faltering steps I have taken have shown me how powerful this stance can be. For instance, when I infuse into the relationship what is missing from it, I actually take back my power. I refuse to allow the other to diminish the relationship or pull me down. I reaffirm my commitment to being the best I can be. And I become instrumental in changing the equation.

It is only too easy for us to respond as the other has. When people stop calling us, we stop calling them. When people do not give us presents, we stop giving them. When people don’t call us for their parties, we stop calling them for ours. When someone stops smiling at us as we pass them on the road, we stop smiling at them. 

But are we not giving them too much power over us? Are we not allowing them to influence our behaviour and our emotions? Are we not permitting them to determine who we are? Instead, can we recognise that we have drawn all that comes our way, if not in this lifetime, then in another? Therefore, only we can make restitution by infusing into the situation what we had perhaps withdrawn from it at some earlier point.

A few months back, I was at home recovering from a cataract operation. To my dismay, few of my friends called to find out how I was, and even less came to visit me. I realised then that over the years, I had allowed busyness to shroud me so much that I had become unavailable to others. Forthwith, I determined to be more in touch with people and to meet them whenever I could. 

It is only when we can choose how to respond in any and every situation, regardless of how the other behaves, that we will have really and truly become free. And in our own power. At that point, we are invulnerable. No matter what the world throws at us, we will be happy, joyous, loving, and kind. We have withdrawn from the world its power to hurt us, and therefore, we remain whole and perfect.