Relationship Advice from a Donkey

This post was originally a schmoozeletter email in 2021

One of my love languages is book recommendations (also: cut fruit..)

I believe that a wonderful book suggestion is one of the greatest gifts.

It wouldn't be exaggerating to say that books continually change and shape my mind and life, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Years ago, I went to a training by Terrence Real, a couples therapist with an approach called: Relational Life Therapy. The conference was a few days long, and pretty intensive, but one of the best continuing education programs I've had the privilege to attend.

Between that experience and his books, I quote him often, to this day.

He recently published another book and audio program, which I devoured on audible- twice.

The audio presentation is called Fierce Intimacy and the book, which so far seems like mostly the same content is called: Us, and both share some of the highlights that I learned in that powerful training way back. (For a less politicized version of his writing, I'd recommend his older book: The New Rules of Marriage.)

One of my favorite pieces of advice he gives is:

"Turn complaints into requests."

It's so easy to criticize and complain about what we don't like in relationships of all kinds.

It's harder, more vulnerable, but more productive to ask ourselves:

"What do I actually want or prefer in this situation instead?" and then respectfully make that request.

In this week's Torah portion, King Balak begs the evil-eyed prophet, Bilam (who has a super-sketchy relationship with his pet donkey) to curse the Jews for him, so that he could defeat them.

He appeals to Bilam's ego, by saying:

"I know you have the gift of blessing and cursing," when in truth, until that point, he'd really only had the gift of cursing. But who really wants to be known as "cursing guy?"

When Bilam's donkey tries to stop him from traveling to the mission by evading an angel blocking the way, Bilam abuses his animal, who then goes on to lecture him about loyalty, about how well he'd served him and how poorly he repaid him. Then G-d showed Bilam that his donkey had been protecting him after all, but all Bilam could see was an obstacle.

Bilam's "gift" is that of the critic, the cynic.

Often the media, the public, and certainly pandering politicians, will give attention and respect to the most eloquent complainers and aggressive ragers- the squeaky wheels of society.

There's something perversely fascinating, even satisfying, about witnessing human fury and indignation. We're more likely to turn towards or click on bad news than good news- human nature has a negativity bias.

Being a critical thinker is often rewarded in school growing up.

And it can in fact, be useful sometimes.

But the gift of being a critic is only of value inasmuch as it promotes healthy change- the "request." Calling out the problem is easy- it's the unglamorous work of collaborating, empathizing, understanding, strategizing, and sweating our way to solutions that will create repair and healing.

Maybe that's part of what G-d was trying to teach Bilam and Balak by transforming their intended curses into blessings:

We have two "eyes," symbolizing our ability to see both good and bad, beauty and sorrow, curses and blessings, problems and solutions. And that by looking at what's wrong, we can also choose to see the potential for what can be improved and even become great- if we choose to focus on that possibility and invite growth.

(Another book related to this topic that I just enjoyed is Bittersweet by Susan Cain.)

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