Don’t Go

Recently I was visiting someone close to me who is terminally ill. It’s a very humbling reminder that even the strongest among us can be reduced to extreme frailty and vulnerability. I often picture myself in that situation, out of curiosity more than anything else. What might I look like, what might I regret, how I may soften or be stricter in the ways I feel I need to protect myself from harmful others who’d want to visit me.

The patient’s father was visiting then as well. The father got up to go to the kitchen, and the patient, despite overwhelming fatigue, said, “Dad, don’t go.” The father assured him that he wasn’t leaving. This brief exchange hasn’t left my mind in weeks. In the case where I’d be in my final stages, who would I instinctively want with me? Underneath all the layers of crap that we all carry around and identify each other by, whose presence brings me calm and peace? When I can barely think straight because thinking is too exhausting, who in my life would be my blind reach for serenity and comfort? Aside from my children, who are mostly still very young, I could not think of anyone. I currently don’t have a significant other, but as anyone with a shred of honesty will admit, having one by no means means that they gift you with true inner peace. Your spouse can make you feel lonely, your best friend can make you feel inadequate, and your family can make you feel alienated. There are no rules when it comes to roles. That’s why even though the exchange I witnessed was indeed between father and son, it took place based on real, truthful emotions. The son really did find comfort in his father being with him. It was heartwarming. It felt right.

 Since I do have a long list of very dear, close friends, it was surprising to me that I could come up with no one immediately. More than anything, this points to my instinctive tendency to isolate myself in the face of danger and vulnerability. This is something I have recently started watching, in order to identify the pattern and unlearn how that pattern will want to dictate my next steps. What was true in the first half of my life is no longer true. I don’t need the same responses since the scenarios are different. I have created a new reality for myself. Since childhood my large, crazy family rolled out one extreme betrayal after another. It was traumatic to say the least. No one was honest, trustworthy, or loyal. The attacks on children, the backstabbing, the flimsy alliances that were subject to change on a whim. It was emotional guerrilla warfare, the only term that aptly describes it. It was subconsciously ingrained early on to trust no one. I actually am a very trusting person in many ways, but there is that part of me that is emotionally self reliant. No family member ever provided me with peace, calm, and understanding. Well, one does...

My marriage gave me lots of gifts for which I’m deeply appreciative, but peace and tranquillity weren’t amongst them. When you are raised on a battleground you usually don’t just waltz into a scene from a Disney movie (and if you did you’d likely get the hell out of there since it would seem so whacked out unfamiliar. Like you couldn’t last there for two minutes. There’s that self removal and isolation I mentioned above). Regarding my friends who I love dearly, being with them is joyful, hilarious, honest, connective, and reliable. With them I am seen and loved. But I wouldn’t say that “serene” is one of the first words to pop up. Perhaps that’s because the concept of utter tranquility from another is one that I just haven’t encountered yet. It doesn’t occur to me because it’s foreign. I haven’t learned it. In discussing this with a close friend who I actually had thought about in regards to this topic of “don’t go”, he said “what about me?” It was heartwarming that he felt he could provide that for me/that I’d come to him for that. I answered that I did think of you, but I can’t see you sitting in one place for very long. People surprise us though at that stage of the game. Sickness and death can extract truth and reality like nothing else. There’s no more time and energy for pretense, for bullshit.
I actually went down a list of my close friends. I’m still mentally doing that. There are definitely a bunch who do put me at ease so why was my first instinct to not recognize that? I have become so skilled at providing myself with peace because I have had no choice; I don’t think to outsource that. That works only to a point because without letting others in we are screwed. My life thus far has been a confusing mess of who to let in and who to keep out. It’s likely, that out of a means of self preservation I was trained not to count on anyone anymore for matters of the heart. As with all else, inner reserve is a balance. We need to become so internally intact but not so much so that we don’t allow the right others to penetrate. After a few weeks I was indeed able to identify several friends that I might say “don’t go” to. This also taught me something huge about my future person. This person needs to be my go to for tranquility, my safe space, my home base. Otherwise there is no point. I don’t need someone to go to dinner or a movie with. I need someone who when I’m at my lowest place emotionally, physically, and mentally, when my logical faculties are shot and I am at my most stripped down, I reach for them like a warm blanket on a cold day. Someone who fills me up when I can’t do that for myself anymore. Maybe I was in that apartment at that specific moment to witness this blink and you miss it interaction. In order to think about this and to understand that peace and love are one in the same. They are fraternal twins born of the same embryo. They can look different but are inherently fused together forever. To truly and unconditionally love someone is to provide them with the enveloping breeze of comfort and stillness. In all of my various spiritual practices the goal is the same. To find that place of stillness and wholeness within our own beings. We are taught to find it because it’s there, with us all the time. When I can tap into that innermost part of myself I know that nothing is missing. It is the safest space. It’s that safety we feel from another that causes us to ask them to stay. There are no “shoulds” here. No mentally imposed ideas about who SHOULD be providing us with that type of comfort. That’s the beauty of these truthful relationships and connections. It can come from someone we just met. It’s all pure instinct, and instincts don’t need explanations.

Who in your life fills you with ease, peace, and comfort? It’s an important thing to think about. Start to make a mental list. I hope you’re on it. I hope others are too.