There is nothing to fix here
My parents divorce finalized last week... on Thursday. I have been watching it unfold for most of my life, private battles remaining that way with family loyalty as the reason. I don't wish to discuss their story here, but what I do want to share is mine. They get intertwined sometimes, other peoples' stories and my own. So how do I speak my own truth without exposing those I love?
I think I may have learned it this week. I was talking to my therapist about it all. At the end of the session we decided there was nothing to fix here. This is their journey, and while I have beheld it, they have their own paths to take. I think this has been something I have been striving to understand my whole life. How do I know what I am responsible for and what belongs to another human? How do I witness the chaos and let other people have their choice even if it's painful to watch?
I think it may boil down to respect. One of my therapists told me it was arrogant of me to think I could live someone else's life better than they could, fix it all by insisting on having it my way. I have also heard it called co-dependance, a family illness common to those with alcoholic or mentally ill loved ones. Someone has to be the responsible adult, after all. If no one steps up, the beloved one will just hurt themselves more, and letting them have natural consequences seems unnatural.
But it's not. The failure is how we learn, how we grow. The insanity is inserting myself and thinking that somehow, my insistence on change will be a better motivator than the natural consequences of pain and suffering designed to teach a more excellent way. Believing there will come a moment when we all have our shit together enough to be unconditionally loved and accepted also counts as lunacy.
I don't know the best way to cure this illness I have. But I am starting to learn that there is nothing to fix here. I am starting to learn to focus my energy inward on things like feeding myself, cleaning my house, trying to get better at sales, and letting other people have their choices.
I watch my cats sleep and understand the reason I get on with them so well is due to my belief that I will never be able to tame them. They will always be a little bit wild. I accept this about them even as I say no to them and carry out natural consequences for their misbehavior. I am starting to learn this about others too. I cannot tame my boyfriend, but I really do appreciate him more than I can say. I can't really change much at my job beside my own performance, yet I value being there tremendously.
I have been trying for so long to change the world that I have not been able to accept it for what it is. I doubt any of us will ever fully know what it is, but there is beauty to be had no the less in it. There is joy to be had in resting, in quietness, in letting ourselves and others be human. I may stay my whole life on learning this one lesson, and yet I feel the mastery of it will not be a waste of my time.
There is nothing to fix here. Only a sigh of pain and relief and being, a return to quietness, and a realization that not all needs to be well for life to be good, vital, worthwhile.
The only thing to do is to accept the fact that my presence isn't meant to fix anything. It's just meant to be there, a sign of care, hope, and comfort. I cannot fix it. And that's ok.
I think I may have learned it this week. I was talking to my therapist about it all. At the end of the session we decided there was nothing to fix here. This is their journey, and while I have beheld it, they have their own paths to take. I think this has been something I have been striving to understand my whole life. How do I know what I am responsible for and what belongs to another human? How do I witness the chaos and let other people have their choice even if it's painful to watch?
I think it may boil down to respect. One of my therapists told me it was arrogant of me to think I could live someone else's life better than they could, fix it all by insisting on having it my way. I have also heard it called co-dependance, a family illness common to those with alcoholic or mentally ill loved ones. Someone has to be the responsible adult, after all. If no one steps up, the beloved one will just hurt themselves more, and letting them have natural consequences seems unnatural.
But it's not. The failure is how we learn, how we grow. The insanity is inserting myself and thinking that somehow, my insistence on change will be a better motivator than the natural consequences of pain and suffering designed to teach a more excellent way. Believing there will come a moment when we all have our shit together enough to be unconditionally loved and accepted also counts as lunacy.
I don't know the best way to cure this illness I have. But I am starting to learn that there is nothing to fix here. I am starting to learn to focus my energy inward on things like feeding myself, cleaning my house, trying to get better at sales, and letting other people have their choices.
I watch my cats sleep and understand the reason I get on with them so well is due to my belief that I will never be able to tame them. They will always be a little bit wild. I accept this about them even as I say no to them and carry out natural consequences for their misbehavior. I am starting to learn this about others too. I cannot tame my boyfriend, but I really do appreciate him more than I can say. I can't really change much at my job beside my own performance, yet I value being there tremendously.
I have been trying for so long to change the world that I have not been able to accept it for what it is. I doubt any of us will ever fully know what it is, but there is beauty to be had no the less in it. There is joy to be had in resting, in quietness, in letting ourselves and others be human. I may stay my whole life on learning this one lesson, and yet I feel the mastery of it will not be a waste of my time.
There is nothing to fix here. Only a sigh of pain and relief and being, a return to quietness, and a realization that not all needs to be well for life to be good, vital, worthwhile.
The only thing to do is to accept the fact that my presence isn't meant to fix anything. It's just meant to be there, a sign of care, hope, and comfort. I cannot fix it. And that's ok.
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