Lily pads

We choose our hard.

You can choose to fight for an unhealthy relationship because it feeds the anxiously attached OR you can choose to fight for your freedom.

Either way, you are going to be fighting.

At some point within this human experience, it seemed that the good fight was for nurturing the unhealthy relationship; no matter how bad it got. This was my lily pad; the place that I could land safely, stay on the surface and return to. Not to mention, I knew how to sweep things under the… rug. I got really good at cleaning up the messes so that when others were paddling on by, they need not worry. I took pride in my clean lily pad. I can clean up messes fast and no one needs to know anything more of what lies beneath.

On this lily pad, my nervous system knew what to expect so therefore grew accustomed to it. That equated to my safety and approval of the other grown up frogs.

Until one day…

An Elder came swimming up from the depths to share with me that my lily pad was uprooted.

My lily pad WAS DYING.

Now, we all know how much I loved this insanely shiny, green, “gram” ready lily pad, right…

BUT my safety was threatened and trust me when I say, I did not want to swim in the dirt I was sweeping under.

I had to hop.

This wasn’t easy but Wisdom told me what was happening to my home. I therefore gave up one fight to choose the next…

I hopped. Hopping is, “a springing action that involves taking off from one foot and landing on the same foot.” Precisely. (google def)

I landed and like a chronic reflex, fell back into the same pattern. My body recognized this same green pad and instinctively began sweeping.

Eventually the Elder came back.

I hopped and then I had to hop again.

I hopped further and further…but the Elder kept coming back with the same news.

I was hoping so much that I began injuring my feet.

The first time it happened I was able to whittle myself a raft with crutches for oars making it safely to my familiar green landing.

The second time it happened, the damage was worse and I was unable to sweep, hop, or whittle on my own to my perceived safety.

There I was; the roots unconnected from the bottom while this pool of my blood diffused into the depths of the water that surrounded the green spade.

I was sinking, and while in a reflexed state, fighting the ones who were there trying to save me. The ones trying to teach me how to swim again while refusing to pull me back to another pad.

Come to learn, I was seeing lily pads as my safe landing painted in green. But, let's call a spade a spade.

You can choose to fight for an unhealthy relationship because it feeds the anxiously attached OR you can choose to fight for your freedom.

Either way, you are going to be fighting.

It is not easy but it is time I go under and uproot the perpetual green spades in this life, greet Wisdom instead of being greeted by, and live a life worth fighting for.

Might that help in understanding my own worth?

Whittled by experiences, may the Waters remind us of our Amphibious roots.

#seaempathy

#youwereborntoswim