Fragile: Handle with care

Fragile
Originally uploaded by Tom Leuntjens Photography
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.

And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable
girls and boys.
~ Ingrid Michaelson

We always, always get exactly what we need, especially if we are open and willing to receive. This has been my experience today, in the largest of ways.

As I've begun to explore the allowance of messiness and to diligently pursue rigorous honesty, I was given a prime opportunity to do just that in my kabbalistic supervision group today. I was presenting the case about my client who's been diagnosed with terminal cancer. And, in the manner that I've become accustomed to throughout most of my life, I skirted around the "pink elephant" in the room, until it was gently brought to my attention by those who know me well. And, I was aware of my anxiousness and my sadness about this case after I exited the shower this morning and put it away in another compartment in my being so that I didn't have to let it interfere with my presentation of this case. So I could be "together". So I wouldn't appear overly emotional. The pink elephant was my guilt and sorrow over the fact that I had assured this client after her mastectomy 4 years ago, that she was now safe. That the cancer was removed. And I was reminded today that I am not omnipotent and do not have that power. To really feel the depth of this and allow these feelings to be openly expressed, to have a place to live is powerful and healing and it is also raw and vulnerable and leaves me feeling naked in a way that I haven't before.

Hiding has been the defense mechanism that I have operated from for the better portion of my life. My father could not tolerate any expression of disappointment, pouting, sadness and especially not crying. In trying to understand his world view at that time from the place of a Korean war vet who engaged in unmentionable acts, it is my best guess that any display of emotion by a child that smelled of vulnerability or helplessness would be a trigger for him. Something he could not bear because of what he held inside. This was his own version of hiding.

Hiding is a form of pretending, yet another way in which I've been dishonest -- with myself first and with others. It was a way that I didn't give myself permission to feel what I really felt because it wasn't safe. Hiding also does not allow for an intimate connection with others. It is about not letting another really see me. To be invited in to know the real me.

My sponsor speaks of the "squidgies" felt in her body that she calls her "truth-tellers". When I do pause to really listen to my body, these signs are there. To be impeccable in following them will always point me in the direction of my truth.

At tonight's AA meeting, we focused on Step 9 in terms of the amends that we need to make to ourselves first before anyone else we harmed. This could not have been more appropriate, given what arose for me today.

The conversations I have in my head when I've recognized I'm hiding or when I only peek out have been damaging over time. The words I use to berate myself are not kind. I have intimidated myself into remaining in hiding. And then beat myself up for not speaking up, speaking out. And the illusion is that this is being in control. The reality is that it is the fear of losing control that drives the hiding. When I give up the need to be in control, to really allow myself to feel my powerlessness, to show my vulnerability, I am more here and more in relationship with others. And I am no longer hiding.

To make room for my feelings, regardless of how I perceive they will be received, is to honor myself. To be in integrity. To embrace my humanness. To be a living amends for me.