A Zen Koan, "What is this?"

There are many seemingly simple spiritual practices that when engaged often bring to a person some surprising and purely deep results. While many may interpret "simple" to mean naive or stupid, these are actually that word's lesser implications.
A check with your dictionary will likely reveal that its first definition is actually "free from guile; innocent; free from vanity, modest; singular, unified without clauses."

So from this one, simple practice, ask the question, "what is this?" Ask yourself often and sit quietly, listening for the answer, which will come if you do.
You may find this difficult to do because many times in fact, we want to run away from ourselves and our reasons. Why? For lots of reasons or no clear reason at all, like a habit. And like Nasrudin looking for his key the dark, the familiar seems so much better than anything else. That is until we discover what else there is.

What is it that you think; what are your habits? What is it that you feel? Can you label your thoughts, your feelings? Will you sit quietly long enough for them to present themselves? For many, labeling a thought or feeling is surprisingly a challenge. Will you sit for the days, weeks, months or the years that it may take?
Asking what is this is a first step in the "willingness to just be," as Zen teacher Eric Bayada describes in his book, Being Zen.

Seeking Someone to Cover the Holes

"We find the courage to go on, even if it's only for one more breath."  --At Home in the Muddy Water --by Ezra Bayada

When practicing with relationship issues such as loneliness, Zen author, Ezra Bayada writes in his book, At Home In the Muddy Water, that we find the courage to go on, even if it's only for one more breath. As we stay with the loneliness, that hole of loneliness gradually heals. We learn [by experience] that inviting it in is far less painful than pushing it away.
He notes that for most of us, most of the time, we spend a lot of time thinking about what is happening to us. We just think; intellectual activity may obscure physical experiences such so that then, of course, we believe our thoughts are reality.

To the extent that there is suffering in our relationships, or to the extent that even the good in our relationships could become better, we need to work honestly with our blind spots and stuck places. Many experiences in day-to-day living challenge us, pushing us to our edges; it may be difficult to even remember the practice.
A voice in us activates thoughts such as: 'Hey, what about me, not fair, so much drama, tired of this', and so on.
With a spinning mind, separating our experiences from these notions is a tough sell. Learning to practice in the most difficult, the most trapped moment is also the moment we may realize the most, becoming the most joyful, make the most immediate decisions to reap the most benefit. There is joy and tranquility in every moment. Make it yours.

Soren Kierkegaard notes that 'perfect love' loves one intently, despite being very possibly the one, with whom we are mostly unhappy. In other words, working with our own reactions is the most perfect response to a loved one. 
Interactions with others vex us; what we fully want from others, is what they may not be able to give at a particular moment, and what we want most to give may just not be available to others.

It is often so difficult to give. If we [can] see that we're stuck in not wanting to give someone what they want, and if we're willing to work with the layers of emotion like anger and fear around our stuck condition, then in growing awareness it becomes a path to freedom.
Pushing beyond known edges may require intentional giving to increase our known self, and to face our fears. Less and less fear or anxiety comes to dictate our behavior, says Bayada, when we practice like this.