Here, Let Me Fix You
When helping isn't helping?
Sitting in my backyard this morning, I was immersing in nature and enjoying a soft breeze blowing against my face. A tiny spider slowly flew by right in front of my nose, I assumed on a strand of its web. It glided past me one way, then back the other way. As I watched it I wondered if it was okay. Was it spinning the strand? Or had it broken? Instantly, the idea crossed my mind to rescue it.
What if we didn’t intercede in someone else’s life? What if we didn’t offer advice, a better way (according to us)? What if we accepted that we don’t know the person or their path?
I wonder if we’ve all been so conditioned to take care of others that we automatically step into a life to manage it, confirm they’re going to be OK, make sure they’re supported, sure they need help. We may even believe we’re the only one who can help.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all hands in when there is need. I donate money to help alleviate hunger, drought, suffering, abuse, oppression. We’re all connected, I believe, so we’re all in this together. I don’t believe in isolationism or ignoring my neighbors’ health issues. My husband and I visit people who are alone in their world and my husband clears snow for those who can’t get out. We grow plants for pollinators and donate supplies to the local humane society. Buy Boy Scout popcorn and Girl Scout cookies. Our values include helping others. That’s not what I’m talking about, I guess.
I’m talking about how we can often seem compelled to let down our healthy boundaries and make moves to help others when maybe we should just believe in them. Pause, weigh our next move or next meme. Believe that everyone in life has the right to choose and handle the resulting consequences. If I move in to another’s life and offer advice or money or time, am I robbing them of learning opportunities that could improve their life? Do I do so for them, or to help soothe my own feelings of loneliness or fear, emotions I would do better to address internally and grow stronger in myself? Admit I can’t fix anyone else nor should I try because they’re the authority of their life.
This is not new thinking. It is for me, though. It first came up in my face when my grown children assured me that I’d met my vow of always being there for them, and they no longer needed me to angst-out about them. That stopped me in my tracks. I had to trust them to take care of themselves and life to be kind? Yikes! I’d been taking care of others, specifically my parents and siblings, (then husband, children, dogs, goldfish, and cats) all my life, trying to keep them calm, safe, loved, alive. Could I let go?
Since my children’s directive, I’ve been expanding my take on it. Taking care of everyone and managing others’ lives, or at least trying to, is exhausting. Maybe because, for me at least, it is setting myself up as the authority of others, and it seems like needless interfering, at times.
Oh, and that tiny spider? She swung back to her web in progress and continued her project, unaided.
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