It’s hard work to have a good marriage

“My wife says I have to make an appointment for us to see you,” says the voice on the phone. I’m talking to a grown man, but the voice has the energy of properly chastised, obedient boy. And the part of my personality that is pretty much constantly turning life into stand-up comedy wants to say, “Yikes. You got sent to therapy, huh? Yeah, that happens.”

Couples come to therapy down various roads of motive, incentive and initiative, but “remanded by my spouse” is certainly one way. It makes me giggle, inwardly.

Couples counseling is my favorite part of my job. It compels me. It’s always interesting. At once hard work and a joy. And, when it works, one of the richest parts of my vocation. When people entrenched in marital conflict, alienation and pain suddenly remember “Oh yeah, I’m in love with you, not to mention that I really believe in marriage” … well, it’s inspiring to me.

It’s the kind of day at the office that leaves me saying in celebration, “The devil hates me today.”

It’s shameless fun to watch couples find a renewed momentum for the work of marriage. To watch them stop confronting each other and start confronting themselves. Yes, the work of personal growth is rigorous and regularly uncomfortable. But it is also deeply satisfying. The willingness to do this work both comes from self-respect and grows self-respect: “Now doesn’t that feel good! I’m learning to be a better wife/husband!”

So, what happens in couples counseling? The basic curriculum includes, in no particular order:

AROUSAL STATES

At least that’s the textbook name for it. I prefer calling it, simply, “the bad habit of reactivity.” See, there’s this organ in the brain called the amygdala. It’s the “flight or fight” part of the brain. Very, very useful if your house is on fire. If there is a tiger in your house. Man with a gun.

But not so useful — or even necessary — if your darling forgets the dry cleaning.

The amygdala is no friend of marriage. I’m saying I see a lot of couples with bad brain habits. And we can teach and retrain our brains to get back in charge of reactivity. A reactive brain notices the experience of fear, insecurity, injustice or slight, fills in the blanks with righteous-feeling (but rarely fair or accurate) conclusions, then wades in to kick arse and take names.

Sack the village. Shock and awe. Slash and burn. Later, we’ll talk.

Not a useful or effective strategy for growing old together.

With a little effort, we can remind the brain to do at least two things before we go thermonuclear:

1) Ask your mate questions.

2) Put the feeling experience you are having into words. That is, describe it before reacting.

Think of it as giving both your mate and yourself the benefit of a doubt.

TYPE/TEMPERAMENT

News flash: Your mate is not you. You are not your mate. When you listen to as many marital arguments as I have, you notice that, between the lines, about 80 percent of those conflicts come down to this indignant admonition: “Why aren’t you … more like me!”

Answer: “Because then one of us would be unnecessary.”

In many cases, the type/temperament differences you are bemoaning are exactly the same differences that once turned your head and hurled you deeply in love. The same differences that made you think your mate was hot, hot, hot. The reason you couldn’t keep your hands off your mate is because your mate was not you.

So I teach the language of type/temperament. It’s fun to learn about your personality. And then to learn about your mate’s. With this education we move from pathologizing to understanding.

FAMILY OF ORIGIN

Sooner or later your love and growing intimacy will provoke and disturb the unfinished business of your childhood history. This is, frankly, an ordinary consequence of good marriages. Put glibly, the journey of marriage will require us to distinguish our mate from our mother and father.

ATTENTION/INTENTION

Couples counseling often includes a wake-up call to the discipline of attention/intention. Couples learn — again — there’s no excuse for “waiting for a feeling,” that it’s absurd to think great love will in every moment “flow naturally and spontaneously.”

So we inventory and examine our marital habits. We decide to notice the habits we have allowed to erode and atrophy. Couples recommit to bringing a daily intention to the habits of courtship, kindness, gratitude, solicitation and connection.

Yes, falling in love “just happens.” But, for great love to survive, our daily intentions habituate the nurture of an environment where great love can continue to happen.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of “Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing” (Stephens Press). His columns appear on Mondays. Contact him at 702-227-4165 or skalas@reviewjournal.com.