Somewhere along the way I’ve lost bits of myself to others. Scattered over the landscape, it seems futile that I might ever be whole again. Today, I scan the landscape in hopes of patching my tired soul. I breathe the cold air deep into my lungs and oddly enjoy the sting of it on my face.
It was given a value in my childhood household, this selflessness I have been known for. I grew up watching my mother give endlessly, never tiring of the support she was required to offer. It wasn’t rare for the phone to ring, from the other room, I’d hear her say “I’ll be right there” and before I could blink she had her jacket on and was out the door. These people, some I didn’t know, needed my mother more than I, I assumed. I was left to watch TV without her these evenings. Later, I’d explain to her the parts she had missed while she was off assisting others with whatever might have ailed them on that particular day.
These pieces, I tear off willingly, proudly, defining myself by the beauty of my imperfect and exhausted soul. Other’s define me by this as well. I give freely to some who don’t deserve it. They grew to expect that if they were missing a corner piece, I’d find the matching one in myself and go without so that they might be whole. I leave my children, to tell me about the ending at a later time, so that I can have a drink with you. Do you feel whole yet? How many more beers will it take? My daughter waits at home to share the ending of the show with me. She watches me give value to my title of the helper. She eavesdrops on my conversations, learning from me. One day, she might find herself on this trail in these woods pondering how many of these people would offer to her one of their four coveted corner pieces.
Today, on this trail in the dead of winter, the cold wind is blowing right through me. I realize how cold and lonely that feels. A waif, too weak to stand on my own, I come to terms with the fact that I’ve given too much of myself. This, I finally realize as I fear the wind might blow me away. The cost is getting too high. I don’t want to miss the ending of the show. I repeat Assertive Right #3 out loud - not fearful of anyone hearing me because I have’t seen a soul on the trail today- I am not responsible for finding solutions to your problems.
I am not responsible for finding solutions to your problems.