Sharing my taboo, experiencing the reciprocity of empowerment, and learning from a beech tree. If anything piques your curiosity or appreciation, please write a comment, hit like, and/or feel free to share with others. Your support really means a lot.
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Meander
I wish I could always be as receptive to support as a tree is to light. To turn my face every time towards the warm embrace that holds and sustains me, my heart affirming I don’t have to do it all, my head confirming it’s not possible to do it all. I imagine any tension releasing into the warmth of the other, as together we embody the relational requirement: to give and receive support. In reality, I know how it is to give support, but I’m much more uncomfortable in accepting it.
I’m feeling vulnerable as I write this because I’m showing you that I’m standing on shaky ground. I’m sharing with you something that unsettles me, that I haven’t fully worked through and is still alive in my relationships. It can look like this: Something happens that upsets me which at the same time feels wounding and I feel silly by being affected. I hear a voice deep inside say “Pull yourself together, it’s not that bad”. So I continue through the hour, day, week, months pulling myself together whilst neglecting the part that is hurt or/and fearful. When the tension reaches breaking point, I force myself to tell somebody feeling like a burden and often a failure. I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who can and want to be there for me (although for a number of reasons this wasn’t always available in younger years, more of which later), yet their heartfelt desire to be there for me is met with my shield of protection. I want to so badly let it in. But I struggle.
Over the last couple of years I’m getting better at opening the little door in my solar plexus which for so long has been jammed shut. But there’s one stubborn area where the door becomes stuck and I have to use all of my awareness, and paradoxically, support, to open it by a millimetre: Financial support.
Oh wow, it feels tabooish to write ‘financial’ and ‘support’ together for you to read. I wonder if it’s a taboo for you also.
Brought up by a single mum who through sheer grit and sacrifice earned every penny on her own and eventually ran her own business, being financially independent wasn’t so much an aim, it was a way of being. I’ve thankfully never been without a job, I’ve always earned enough to support myself (I feel the familiar glee, almost smugness at being ‘self-supportive’ as I write that), paid my half towards bills, and bought my own stuff. But this has changed.
Moving to a new country, continuing therapy training (which is both hugely enriching and expensive), and becoming pregnant as a self-employed person have shifted the balance on finances. The proudly self-sufficient and powerful Charlene has been replaced by needing-support and shaky Charlene. I feel like Oliver Twist with palms outstretched, and my belly is churning with embarrassment. On a side note, when I’ve done a movement exploration on this with students, going between expressing generosity and need, everyone without exception has felt energised by dancing generosity yet discomfort at expressing need.
I’m in unfamiliar territory and I don’t always know how to navigate it. Again, I’m thankfully supported by someone who wants to support me as I support our unborn child, who allows me financial room so I can pay for my psychotherapy training and psychotherapy sessions, which is a hugely privileged position to be in. But it’s like a blunt attempt to pierce through this veil of self-reliancy I’ve tightly woven since being young. To be financially supported feels like I’ve failed my unexamined belief of independence at all costs and when the shit hits the fan I tell myself “Pull yourself together, it’s not that bad and look after yourself!”.
As children we create strategies and narratives that help us to feel safe in the world. This may be ‘I must always do as I’m told’, ‘I need to always be good’, ‘I am responsible for how others feel’, and in my case ‘I must look after myself because other people have it worse than me’. Growing up in an extended family where mental illness often visited, being able to support myself was necessary if I wanted to eat, have clean clothes, and do well-ish at school. Starting Yoga at 18 was part of this. Giving support was needed if I wanted to help others feel better, and I really wanted my ill relatives to feel better both for themselves and so we could look like a normal family. It’s really no different to the thousands of young carers who support their relatives, what they need is not a priority, but the care of the other and the continuation of a ‘normal’.
Being the creative beings that we are, we make adjustments to continue life as normal and as safely as possible, which serve us until they don’t. When these adjustments stop being relevant becoming more of a hindrance than a help, we become stuck and don’t know what to do. Enter my struggle with financial support. I know so throughly with my cognition that support includes both self-support and that from others and I don’t hesitate in helping others financially where I can; but in this area of support my feelings tell me otherwise. And this is where it’s so important to, as Tara Brach says, to acknowledge that feelings are real, but they’re not always true. My feelings deserve acknowledgement and acceptance, but they don’t always point to truth.
I’m learning to do the following:
I hold both. On one hand I let the feeling of failure be there and on the other, I welcome the support. This is not a case of either/or, but ‘and’. The two can co-exist. I feel my shoulders and jaw softening as I stop the struggle. Then I ask:
Am I failure? If I am a failure, what have I failed at? Is this actually a desired goal or an unexamined belief that keeps me protected but disconnected from the essence of life?
I won’t suddenly stop feeling like a failure, but when I slow down, accept, and reflect, the warm embrace of support is what feels true, not the cold isolation of doing it all on my own. As John Donne wrote, no man is an island, and connection entails that mutual support is required to live a fulfilled human life.
I see this has been a more personal exploration and I hope that in sharing personally there’s something that resonates and helps you to feel less alone in accepting and even feeling deserving of support.
Wonder
This exercise is taken from last week’s Gestalt training focusing on climate change and eco-psychotherapy. I love how it brings to life the mutual support of being alive on Earth, and how everything depends on its environment to flourish, including my example above of financial dependence.
You can do this alone speaking out loud, in a journal, or with another person which can help to amplify the feelings around this. If you’re working in pairs, the role of the listener is to actively listen without saying anything.
‘I empower myself by…’
‘What empowers me is…’
So my example from above would be:
‘I empower myself by reaching out for support.’
‘What empowers me is having someone who wants to support me.’
Your sources of empowerment can be from yourself, others, and Earth, try not to think too deeply about it and just go with what arises. Afterwards, share how it is to be self-supported and supported by others.
Reflect
This poem points with an aching truth at the clinging until the momentum of change forces a release to make way for the new.
Thank you for reading and sending your messages of support and views, these are so appreciated. Charlene. X
Beech Trees in Spring
by James Crews
I want to be like the maples,
letting go so easily of their leaves
in the slightest autumn breeze,
surrendering every piece of themselves
they no longer need, and embracing bareness
like a new suit they can simply step into.
But I’m more like the beech trees,
which cling to the husks of their leaves
long into spring, refusing to give up
even a scrap of who they once were
until the last possible minute.
Perhaps they need the reassurance,
or maybe they’re here to lend music
to the silence of winter, leaves
beaten thin as tissue paper rustling
a lonely chorus in the snow-covered woods—
until buds push up to the surface,
and with no other choice, they say yes
to the final scatter and release,
seeing again, as if for the first time,
how loss leaves room for something new.
Your strength and honesty both astounds and humbles me Charlene. You are an absolute inspiration.
Oooh.....a couple of things resonated with me really deeply whilst reading your piece Charlene. The little door in my solar plexus has been jammed shut for long time too. It's something I noticed in my early yoga days & I've long focused on softening & opening it. I'm aware of how certain situations or insecurities can result in it slamming shut in an instance. More recently, I've felt the Oliver Twist moment of my belly churning in embarrassment due to a lack of finances. Not being able to pay me way in social situations resulted in isolation. Unable to treat a loved to a shared coffee. refusing invites as I found it difficult to accept their kindness & offer to pay. When my (self employed) income only just covered my outgoings I saw this as a failure rather than the success it really was. Thank you for sharing your taboo & helping me to explore mine x