Relationship Rumble

Origins

The morning the Resonance Model began

Spirit Ruggle

Spirit Ruggle is sacred time for John and Laureen.

On Saturday mornings, they make stovetop espresso—slow and deliberate—and settle in. After a few rounds of “What do you want to ruggle about today?” and “I don’t know, what do you want to talk about?”, they usually find their way to something that matters.

Relationships. Emotional intelligence. Trauma. Indigenous allyship. Racism. Privilege. Subjects where they share both passion and curiosity. They go deep and stay there for as long as the conversation allows. The connection can carry them for days.

The morning the Resonance Model began was different.

The previous day had been heavy. It did not announce itself that way. The weight accumulated quietly: children with significant needs, aging parents in cognitive decline, and the unfinished paperwork of John’s divorce still threading through their lives. They were both carrying a great deal and trying not to drop it on each other.

Laureen needed connection. When she feels overwhelmed, knowing she is not alone helps her regulate.

John needed space. Intellectually, he understood what Laureen was asking for. His triggered self heard something else:

What have I done? What am I expected to fix? How much more is being asked of me?

As they each tried to advocate for what they needed, they moved in opposite directions.

John said that he felt secure enough in their relationship that he did not need to connect emotionally all the time. He intended it as reassurance. Laureen heard withdrawal—a signal that something between them had changed.

They were each saying something true. Neither could hear what the other meant.

They went to bed with the evening still hanging between them.

At 4 in the morning

John woke around four in the morning, still angry.

Sitting at his computer in the dark, he opened notes from an Emotional Intelligence course he and Laureen had been developing. He had been working with the ideas of regulation and co-regulation. In that moment, the material stopped being something he taught and became a way to examine what had just happened.

A different question emerged:

Not “What is expected of me?” but “What actually happened between us?”

He wrote down the story he had been telling himself:

There is no appreciation for everything I do. No matter how much I do, the expectation grows.

Then he stopped and asked another question:

Is this true?

He considered the much larger history of their relationship: the connection they normally shared, Laureen’s intent, and how deeply she valued what they had built together.

What he had heard as a demand began to look different. Laureen was overwhelmed. She was not asking him to become more. She was asking not to feel alone.

By the time she woke and entered the living room, John had one line ready. There was no defence, explanation, or case to make.

“It must have felt like I was dismissing you yesterday. I am so sorry it came across that way.”

That was it.

Something between them shifted. Connection became possible again.

They made their espresso and settled into their Saturday morning Ruggle. The resonance felt more visible because of the disconnection that had preceded it. The contrast revealed something that was usually difficult to see.

John found himself returning to a question he could not let go:

“What is the journey to dissonance? And what is the journey back?”

They did not yet have the language, the diagram, or the complete model.

They had the question.

The Resonance Model grew from trying to understand it.