I am processing the awareness of what I am carrying, and what people I love are carrying, and the suffering that includes. When those we love are in pain, in fear, or in any way overwhelmed, love and connection become so hard. Not because we want to run away. Quite the opposite. Every impulse inside me when one I love is threatened is to protect, defend, and control through any means possible so bad doesn’t become worse.
And a lot of the time, this isn’t possible.
The fact is, when someone is really struggling, they often are not in a position to accept my (or anyone else’s) offers of help. They are overwhelmed, and overwhelm changes our perceptions like almost nothing can. They can’t see the light. They can’t grab for the help. It can all just look monstrous, dark and hopeless. They are in true defensive mode and everyone feels like an enemy.
“Dropping the rope” and stepping back are the hardest things we can choose to do, in this situation.
How could this be love? How could reducing our ability to even communicate be in any way supportive of our ability to connect, strongly and supportively?
Tundra helps me (as all my horses have deeply, deeply helped me) demonstrate this difficult and paradoxical truth.
Balance requires a strong centre. Keeping my balance, through maintaining my centre, and offering my presence as a home base to come back to, is love.
It’s not control, though, and there’s a big difference.
~ This post is for all of you who are holding on to faith, to life, to hope, and to a home for the ones you love, and carry, and wish you could protect. Sometimes we are just not enough to do all that, but we definitely are enough to keep our balance, and remain welcoming as a safer home than the (often very painful) surroundings our people must inhabit. It truly is an option to sacrifice control, in order to keep our grip on the strong centre that is our anchor for true (and always open) connection. ~
