On a relationship that serves something larger than the two of you, even when you don't believe in the same thing.
You are sitting together after another fight. Shoulders still high, breath still short, both of you waiting for the other to move first.
And inside that moment there is one question almost no couple asks: what if this relationship is not only yours?
Not in the sense that someone outside is judging you. In the sense that the bond is part of something larger. You can call it God, creation, life, the whole, or not name it at all. Something in the body shifts when you remember it: the jaw softens a little, the breath drops into the belly, and suddenly there is more room.
Most couples run their relationship like a deal between two people: my needs, your needs, and who gives in. That makes sense, and it also wears you down. When there are only two sides, every disagreement becomes a question of who wins.
Working with God and creation in a relationship means letting a third into the room. Not as a judge, but as a field you are both standing in. The question moves from "who is right" to "what is life asking of us here." That is not a politer question. It is one that moves you both to the same side of the table.
It doesn't require religion, and it doesn't require you to believe the same thing. It only asks for a willingness to treat the relationship as more than the sum of two people's needs.
Psychologists Annette Mahoney and Kenneth Pargament at Bowling Green State University have spent more than twenty years studying what they call the sanctification of relationships: partners seeing their bond as carrying ultimate value, meaning, and purpose beyond themselves. Their first study on it came out in 1999. In later work following couples through the transition to parenthood, this view was tied to higher relationship satisfaction and better communication during disagreements.
The detail I find most interesting: they also built a non-religious version of the measure. You can experience a relationship as sacred without believing in any particular God. What gets measured is the experience, not the creed.
About the source and its limits: most couples in these studies were married, heterosexual, and from the US Midwest, and much of the measurement relies on self-report. The research team's own summary does not claim the link is causal, so this does not prove that seeing the relationship as sacred is what improves it. Bowling Green State University, Sanctification of Marriage or Relationship.
In a fight: before going on, three breaths and one quiet question: what does this relationship need right now? Not what I need, not what you need. Sometimes the answer surprises you both.
In the everyday: a small shared moment of gratitude. For the food, for the day, for having found each other in a world this big. It sounds too simple, and that is the point. The body learns from repetition, not from decisions.
In transitions: a move, a pregnancy, a loss, leaving a job. These are the moments when "what am I getting out of this" stops holding, and "what is life asking of us now" opens a way through.
When there are only two, someone has to win.
When there is a third, you can serve together.
It helps most for couples stuck in a power struggle, where every disagreement turns into a question of respect. For couples in a big transition. And for people who feel the relationship "works" but has gone empty of meaning.
It can do harm when spirituality becomes a hiding place. The signs: "it's God's will" said to avoid dealing with real hurt. One of you using spiritual language to close a conversation ("you're just not connected enough"). Or one of you feeling they have to believe something to count as an equal. In those moments the third in the room has become a weapon, not a field.
What if only one of you believes? That is common, and not an obstacle. The language can differ: one says God, the other says nature or "what is bigger than us." What matters is not the word, but the shared sense that there is something you are serving together.
A five minute practice: the question for the third
Once a week, at a calm time. Not mid-fight.
When to stop: if either of you feels the practice is being forced on them, or the question turns into a way to criticize the other, stop. The practice belongs to both of you or to neither.
I accompany couples through body, breath, and conversation, and sometimes through a simple ritual you build together. I don't bring doctrine and I won't ask anyone to believe anything. I help you find your own language for the third in the room, and notice when it is really there. On Zoom from anywhere, and in person around Lisbon and Sintra. Details on the couples coaching and spiritual guidance pages.
No. You can experience your relationship as part of something larger without religion or any particular belief. Research on sanctification even built a non-religious measure of it. What matters is the shared experience, not the word.
Find a language that fits you both. One says God, the other says life or nature. The practice works as long as nobody has to give up who they are, and nobody uses belief to win an argument.
It can be, which is why it matters to notice. Spirituality that replaces a conversation about hurt, or is used to shut a discussion down, is a hiding place. Spirituality that brings you back to the same side of the table and makes the hard conversation possible is a resource.
No. It is coaching and accompaniment, not psychotherapy and not a religious framework. I work with people of every background, believers and not, and in every relationship structure.
Or book a 30 minute intro call, no pressure.
Keep reading: Why you keep having the same fight · They look calm. Their body isn't. · Ceremonies · All writing