“I was so drawn to what you said in your talk about not letting your song die within you … and I deeply wanted to take the next step to the bridge. But my marriage isn’t in the best shape. I’m guessing I should get that straightened out first?”
I was truly honored that she had watched the replay of the Summit where I had the privilege of speaking.
But there was something about her question that stayed with me.
Should I get my marriage straightened out first?
I set up a follow-up call after receiving her message because sometimes, when a relationship has lost connection, the answer isn’t necessarily to wait until everything is “fixed” before doing something meaningful.
Sometimes one of the best things we can do for our relationships is move toward something meaningful together.
I’ve followed the work of Drs. John and Julie Gottman for many years. Their decades of research led to what they call the Sound Relationship House—a model describing important components of healthy, connected relationships.
At the top of that house is something they call Create Shared Meaning. It’s the culture a couple creates together … their rituals, roles, goals, symbols, dreams and sense of shared purpose.
In other words, a strong marriage isn’t built only by learning how to stop fighting. It’s also built by remembering things like:
Who are we?
What matters to us?
And what are we creating together?
As I shared some of that with her, I added: “Although the bridge is not a marriage or relationship seminar, many couples who have been through earlier versions of what I’m now taking to another level have told me it transformed their marriage.”
I asked if she would be willing to share some of the challenges they were experiencing.
“It’s not awful … but we have awful moments. Arguments about unimportant things turn into major threats of leaving. I think he is buried in news, sports and his phone. He thinks I’m buried in kids and grandkids.”
“We go to church on Sundays looking like a happy couple. We leave and he dissects the music and the message. He’s charming when the kids and grandkids are around. And I just wish he would treat me that way.”
“I’m just quiet and withdrawn. I know he doesn’t find me interesting. I love him. I really do. He’s a good man. But somewhere we lost connection.”
I nodded with empathy and understanding.
Then I paused and smiled: “You just watched the replay of my talk about the song within you. Did you hear yours during the experience I led you through?”
She nodded tearfully.
“Perhaps your marriage has lost its song.”
More tears.
“Because that’s something I’ve learned watching couples go through this kind of experience together. Just as you have a song in you … your relationship has a song, too.”
“And sometimes … life has a way of silencing it.”
Kids.
Careers.
Mortgages.
Responsibilities.
Schedules.
Bills.
Phones.
News.
Sports.
Keeping up with the Joneses.
“Sometimes a couple doesn’t stop loving one another. They simply stop hearing the music they once made together.”
Then I asked: “Would he be interested in joining you if you continued the journey?”
She smiled and almost whispered: “When I shared what you led me through and what I’d like to do next, he asked me if it was for women only.”
I laughed. “Although the Summit was for women, the bridge to Created for More is for everyone!”
“What do you think it might do for our marriage?” she asked sheepishly.
I told her I couldn’t possibly predict what it would do for their marriage. But I could tell her what other couples have shared with me after experiencing this kind of work together.
She was quite intrigued.
So I thought I would share it with you, too.
1. Couples reported less arguing and bickering.
I remember one couple who told me they had argued all the way to the workshop and almost didn’t come inside. Finally, they agreed: “Let’s just table this until the workshop is over.”
Afterward, they laughed as they told me: “We couldn’t even remember what we were arguing about!”
Now, let me be clear. I don’t believe one workshop magically eliminates conflict. And healthy couples still disagree. But arguing and bickering can become a habit in a relationship.
One person uses a certain tone.
The other responds with criticism.
One hurls an insult.
The other rolls their eyes.
Someone gets defensive.
Someone withdraws.
And before long, neither person is responding only to what happened five minutes ago. They’re responding from a pattern that has been rehearsed hundreds of times.
What fascinates me is that those same two people can walk into another environment and each of them can communicate completely differently.
Why?
Because the habit isn’t running the room. Something else has their attention.
When we pause long enough to listen for our own song … to remember what matters, what life has grown in us, what we still have to give … some of the things we’ve been fighting about suddenly lose their starring role.
The argument that seemed enormous becomes an interruption to something much more worthy of our attention. Purpose has a way of changing perspective.
When a couple begins asking only things like: “Who left the dishes in the sink?” But then asks: “Who are we becoming?” … the dishes may still need to be addressed.
But they no longer have to become a referendum on the entire relationship.
Sometimes the couple doesn’t need another round of deciding who was right. They need something bigger than the argument to turn them back toward each other. Back to togetherness.
2. Couples noticed remarkable changes in how they spent their time.
I told her: “I think many couples take on their roles … and then gradually begin spending their lives separately.
“He watches news, sports and weather. She focuses on the kids. They manage schedules, careers, groceries, bills and responsibilities. Then one day the kids are grown, and they discover they’ve been traveling on parallel roads for years … with the Grand Canyon between them.”
It happens to so many couples. They still care about one another. They may still function beautifully as a household. They can organize Thanksgiving, get everyone to the airport, pay the mortgage and show up smiling at church.
But somewhere along the way, function replaced connection. They became excellent managers of a shared life while becoming increasingly absent from one another.
That can become terribly lonely.
One of the changes I’ve heard couples describe after doing this kind of work together is that each begins hearing something again. First, their own song. Then, something else.
The song of the relationship.
The one that had faded beneath responsibilities and routines. And suddenly they become more aware of how … and with whom … they are spending their most precious commodity: their presence.
That’s the word I hear over and over: PRESENCE.
“He’s really present again.”
“I can feel her presence again.”
“He looks at me when I’m talking.”
“She asks me questions again.”
“We sit together.”
“We talk.”
“We laugh.”
And perhaps most poignantly:
“I didn’t realize how much I missed him.”
Because proximity is not presence. Two people can sit six feet apart every night and be miles away from each other.
Presence says:
I see you.
I’m curious about you.
You still matter to me.
There is still something here worth discovering.
When two people begin rediscovering what is alive inside themselves, they often become curious again about what is alive inside the person sitting beside them.
That changes how they spend their time. Not because someone handed them a rule about putting down their phones. But because there is suddenly someone they want to turn toward.
3. Couples experienced restored … and sometimes deeper … connection.
There’s something about singing together that restores connection. I’m not talking about literal music or literal lyrics. I’m talking about two people becoming reacquainted with what is alive inside themselves—and then allowing the other person to see it.
I sometimes describe our capacity for connection as Velcro.
Life has a way of covering it up.
We focus externally.
On our jobs.
Our careers.
The house we live in.
The cars we drive.
What needs repairing.
What needs paying.
What needs accomplishing.
What everyone else needs from us.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of those things. But when nearly all of our attention goes outward, the part of us capable of attaching deeply can become less available.
And eventually couples can find themselves saying: “We love each other. We just don’t feel connected anymore.”
Here’s what I find fascinating. When we pause long enough to look inward and ask:
What has life grown in me?
What is in me now that someone else might need?
What have I survived, learned, developed, discovered or resurrected that I have to give? … Something begins to open.
We become more available to ourselves. And when I become more available to me, I have more of myself available to bring to you.
That’s where the Velcro begins working again.
Because connection requires something to connect to.
Not merely two people occupying the same house.
Not merely two people fulfilling roles.
Not merely husband and wife.
But:
You.
And me.
Alive.
Present.
Still becoming.
Perhaps that’s one of the greatest gifts two people can offer one another after years together: “I’m still becoming … and I want you to know the person I’m becoming.”
Then something beautiful can happen. Instead of looking across the room thinking: I already know everything about you … We begin wondering: What else is in you?
And suddenly the person we thought we knew becomes interesting again.
*****
I love seeing couples come through this kind of experience together. I’ve often said that much of the success in our relationships is about selection.
Not merely who we select.
But how we choose to show up in the relationship we selected.
Do I show up distracted?
Defensive?
Resentful?
Half-present?
Do I bring only the exhausted leftovers of myself home?
Or do I continue bringing the person I am becoming into this relationship?
Because when we become aware of all that life has grown in us, we show up differently. And when two people begin doing that at the same time?
Sometimes they discover that the marriage they thought needed to be “fixed” still has something very much alive inside it.
Its song was not gone. Life had simply gotten very, very loud.
So … no. Created for More is not a marriage workshop.
It is not couples therapy, and it isn’t designed to replace the help a marriage may need when there are serious relationship problems. But I have seen something beautiful happen when couples choose to experience this work together.
They stop looking only at what has gone wrong.
They begin looking at what is still possible.
They hear their own song.
They begin listening for one another’s.
And sometimes…
they hear the song of their marriage again.
Maybe you’ve been reading this thinking: That sounds like us. We love each other. We’re not falling apart. But somewhere between building the life we wanted and managing the life we built… we lost some of US.
Then perhaps you don’t need to wait until everything is perfect before you do something meaningful together.
Perhaps you need a bridge.
Come to Created for More together.
Not because I can promise what will happen in your marriage.
I can’t.
Come because there may still be things inside each of you that neither of you has discovered yet.
Come because there may be dreams you stopped talking about.
Come because there may be purpose you haven’t imagined yet.
Come because the person sitting beside you may have a song you haven’t heard in a very long time.
And come because maybe … just maybe … YOUR MARRIAGE STILL HAS A SONG, TOO.
Let’s go find it.
I’ll meet you on the bridge.
—Dr. Neecie