Conscious labor and intentional suffering is suddenly more to me than yet another “work term.” This is because I had a taste of something.
To begin with, I have an interest in seeing myself as I am. A wish to connect with others differently.
The problem is, I tend to see the parts of me that either I approve of or feel comfortable with knowing about. But in fact, I know I can’t see the most ingrained bits without feedback from others. And that can be very uncomfortable. When I react to such feedback as an attack, I defend myself. I point my finger at the other and feel hurt. I don’t see me.
But there is another choice. By concentrating on wanting to know myself, I can shift my attention away from my wounded ego. That redirection of attention helps my hurt feeling become gratitude for the other person who is brave enough to reveal what I don’t want to hear.
But what does Conscious Labor and Intentional Suffering have to do with it?
Here-in lies the difficulty. This is a tricky and delicate piece of work. My relationship with others changes when something in me changes. This must be initiated by me and directed towards myself. I know this for a fact, from experience. But that doesn’t make it easy.
Inner Work and Welcoming Consequences
Something was off between me and a fellow student. What was irritating my friend about me was something she couldn’t name and that I could not see. The issue revolved around working together in movements classes. I ended up going into a tailspin of hurt, internal considering, and thinking that my friend had some issues of her own. I even found myself feeling like I couldn’t face going to Movements classes if she was involved. Seeing these strong reactions in myself was unsettling. Addressing them involved Conscious Labor.
I asked my friend if we could talk and she agreed, with the stipulation of including a third party. We asked someone we both felt comfortable with.
With the skillful help of the third person, I was able to separate from my projections of who was right and who was wrong. I found and voiced what I truly wanted, which was to see what I can’t see—myself. In that moment, I let go of blame and embraced Wish and the help my friend offered. That wish invites intentional suffering.
Sharing my wish for her to help me see myself, I suggested a code word (that had positive connotations.) She could use it when I was doing what irritated her. Suddenly the air cleared between us, and we became co-conspirators.
The conscious labor of being vulnerable and intentional suffering of accepting what came of it, shifted something in me, too. Our code word was not needed after that—the part that couldn’t see, saw. We connected in a way we never had before.