Embodied Presence / Relational Repair

John Welwood saw intimate relationship not as a refuge from life’s difficulties but as a crucible for awakening. “A relationship constantly calls us to step out beyond the limits of our small self, into a larger, more open field of being.”

But stepping into this larger field is not easy. When ruptures arise . . . harsh words, moments of absence, betrayals of trust . . . we are pulled back into fear, defense, and the unbearable pain of old wounds.

The question is not whether rupture happens; it is whether we can repair it with willingness and humility.

Responsibility: Responding Rather Than Reacting

At the heart of repair lies response-ability . . . the cultivated ability to respond, rather than react, to both inner and outer experience.

Response-ability means noticing the surge of shame or anger and pausing before striking back. It means allowing a partner’s disappointment to register without immediately deflecting or collapsing. It means orienting to choice, even in the heat of activation.

This is not a performance of control or repression, but a practice of presence. As Welwood reminded us, “Love calls on us to develop the capacity to stay present with our own fear and pain, and at the same time remain open to the other."

Practicing Fluid Intimacy™ means that responsibility is less about being flawless and more about maintaining responsiveness; remaining available to oneself and to the other, even when the unbearable trembles in the body.

Accountability: Seeing Our Impact

But responsibility is still just a part of the equation. Repair also requires accountability: the willingness to see how our choices . . . conscious or unconscious . . . impact the other.

Where response-ability is about self-regulation and responsiveness, accountability is about relational impact. It means recognizing:

My silence has cost you something.

My sarcasm has landed as an injury.

My withdrawal has intersected with your unbearable in ways that hurt you.

My assumptions and projections have pushed you away.

Welwood spoke to accountability too, writing that “the willingness to face the truth of our own wounding and how it affects others is one of the deepest gifts we can offer in relationship."

Accountability is not self-condemnation. It is awareness in action: the humility to acknowledge that our very existence intersects with another’s vulnerability, and the maturity to own this intersection.

Repair: The Practice of Reconnection

Repair is possible only when responsibility and accountability weave together.

Responsibility grounds us in presence so we can respond rather than react.

Accountability opens our eyes to the impact we’ve had.

Together, they create the conditions for repair; the willingness to step toward the wound rather than away, to let humility and empathy guide us back into connection.

Repair is not about perfection or “showing up whole.” Most of us will never reach such wholeness. Repair is about showing up with intention: committing to attend to ourselves in relationship, refining that commitment moment after moment.

It is less about apology alone and more about revelation: looking into ourselves and letting the other see where we’ve hidden, how our avoidance has shaped the bond, and how we intend to be more and more awake to ourselves in relationship.

Jennifer Welwood’s Reflection

Jennifer Welwood spoke to this practice of surrender in her poetry. In The Dakini Speaks, she writes:

“My dance is the dance of death and birth, of tragedy and joy, of the unbearable and the unimaginable. Wherever you stumble, I will meet you there.”

Repair lives in this stumbling ground. It is not polished or perfected. It is the meeting place where two partners agree to face their stumbles honestly, with the courage and willingness to see and be seen.

Welwood showed us that relationship is not a retreat from life but the very arena in which life’s deepest lessons unfold. Repair asks us to embody responsibility, to practice accountability, and to return again and again with humility. It is not a single act but a rhythm . . . a perpetual refinement of our intention to attend to ourselves in relationship.

This is repair: to step toward what feels unbearable, together, and to discover that intimacy is less about never rupturing and more about never abandoning the work of reconnection.