Relationships, Problems and Turtles

A couples therapist once told me that there are three kinds of problems in relationships: the problems the two of you solve without even thinking about, the ones you have to work at for a while before they resolve, and the problems you never solve. These insoluble problems, he added, are the ‘bridges to intimacy’.

I remember being quite relieved when I first heard this. This model of three levels creates lots of room for the messy realities of living with another human being. I think I unconsciously believed that at some point, my partner and I would really get to the bottom of it. If we worked hard enough and were authentic and compassionate enough, everything would be clear and easy.

But the reality is much more complex and it turns out: ‘It’s turtles all the way down.’ This phrase is the punch line to an old joke about the man who confidently claims the world is supported by a giant turtle. A friend asks him, ‘What’s underneath that turtle?’ He replies: ‘There is another turtle.’ The friend persists and asks again ‘What’s underneath that turtle?’ Undaunted, the man says: ‘There is another turtle.’ Once more the friend repeats the same question. Finally, in exasperation, the man said ‘It’s turtles all the way down.’

I love the humor and truth of this story. It points to the fact that our minds simply cannot grasp the concept of limitlessness. The conscious mind is a brilliant innovation of the universe, but has some congenital limitations. The mind’s main function seems to be recognizing and giving names to patterns. The mind is a kind of ‘thing’ maker. Out of the vast web of mutuality and interbeing, it names discreet parts and wonders about the connections between these seemingly separate things.

Looking more closely, we can see that the physicists and the Buddhist appear to be more correct than our everyday minds. Everything is constantly moving and changing. Even things that appear solid are 1) composed of innumerable atoms and electrons and quarks and things that aren’t don’t even appear to have any substance—probabilities floating in vast space and are 2) in the process of rising up and falling away. Trees, houses, mountains, stars and galaxies are all processes that are endlessly coming into being and disappear. Left to its own devices, the house you slept in last night will slowly fall back into the earth. At this very moment, it is ever so slowly falling down.

Walking through the woods, you may sometimes come across a depression that might have remains of a wall or a fireplace—where human beings like you and me once lived and loved and did their best to understand themselves and the world around them. Without their constant attention, their house disappeared just like them—generously giving way for the next arising of organized energy. Beetles and molds and bacteria of wondrous variety transformed the solid walls and stable foundation into usable bits for the trees and other life forms now growing where the kitchen table used to be.

But these minds we all have are incredibly useful and fun. They have created systems, stories and objects of great beauty and complexity. They allow us to meet the many challenges of our limited existence – to grow food and find shelter, to protect our fragile bodies from the heat and cold, from the saber toothed tigers and from the cars that rush by us on the busy street.

The congenital problem with minds, however, is that they think that what they are perceiving is the world itself. As philosopher David Bohm once said ‘The mind creates the world, then says: I didn’t do it.’ The mind naturally sees discrete objects and must become very still and subtle to perceive the interpenetrating nature of reality that is only temporarily embodied in these seemingly separate objects.

The mind wants clarity and resolution. We often prefer a simple solution to the complex truth. In relationships (going back for at least a moment to where I began), we want things to be settled, clear and easy. If there’s a problem, we think that is a problem. But the reality of every relationship I have ever been in or come in contact with is that the problems are endless—the problems that arise are the relationship itself.

Of course we do the best we can. We act with kindness. We acknowledge and apologize when we have acted poorly. We enjoy the moments of intimacy when all our ideas of problems and solutions drop away and our hearts open to the sacred presence of another human. Perhaps the maturing in relationship is simply the growing realization that the dance of life includes everything—it’s turtles all the way down.

Personal Practice – As you move through your life today, see if you can remember that every thing you see is in the process of change—everything is transient. The floor you walk on, the toothbrush and the faucet and the sink—it is all here only for a short while. And with all the people you come in contact with, remember that they too are in the middle of appearing and disappearing—they too are only here for a brief time. Notice how this awareness of transience changes your experience.