Four Agreements

Another season passes and the center shifts.  People come and go, people who were important to me, people I loved and trusted, up and gone before my eyes.  It hurts. It leaves a hole.

I recently came across New Age author Don Miquel Ruiz's Four Agreements: Be impeccable with your word. Don’t make assumptions. Don’t take anything personally. Do your best.

Or, with my editorial emphasis added - 

*Be impeccable with my word. Don't talk shit.

*Don’t make assumptions. Question reality.

*Don't take things personally.  It ain't about me. 

*Do your best, whatever the fuck that is. 

I like that they are perfectly balanced between prescriptions and proscriptions, two things that you should do, two things that you should not do. Most of the Ten Commandments are proscriptions: Do not worship other gods, do not take God's name in vain, do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not lie, do not covet you neighbor's wife or your neighbors good's.  So many thou shalt nots!  The only two commandments that are prescriptions are a) keep the Sabbath holy and b) honor your mother and father. No hints on how one should honor one's parents, nor are there any suggestions for how one refrains from coveting. The heart wants what it wants, right? As long as I don't act on it, why should God care?

I like the Four Agreements if for no other reason than there are significantly fewer of them. You would think that would make them easier to follow, but not necessarily. I struggle with the proscription against taking things personally.  When someone I love cuts me out of his or her life, it's hard not to take that personally. I'm not talking about casual friendships fading away, I'm talking about people I trusted completely dropping me like a used tissue.  If you've ever had a lover leave you with no warning and no explanation, you know the feeling I'm talking about.  My brain whips wildly from one hypothesis to another, trying to make sense, trying to figure out what I did or didn't do.  I am not what you would call a "process person," I'm a solutions-oriented gal. I want to figure out what I did wrong and fix it so things can go back to the way they were.  But, of course, they can't; nothing is ever as it was.  You can never cross the same river twice.

I have to keep reminding myself that I cannot fix something that is not about me. It is just that person's particular fucked up scene, his or her own private Idaho.

I can't make you love me and I shouldn't take that personally, but I do. That desperate desire to love and be loved back is my particular fucked up scene, my own private Idaho.

I opened my heart to you and you broke it asunder.  It will not heal until I close the door. And so my friend, I close my heart to you.   

I gotta quit making friends with people who have personality disorders.