I love helping people see their dreams come to pass. Professionally and personally, I’ve been a sounding board, advice giver, trainer and go-to person for the people in my life. I push, pull, encourage, motivate and sometimes inspire. And I’ve helped people.
But, with some people (translation: family and some close friends) I want “it” more for them than they want it for themselves. I had to admit (with the help of some unconditional love of a friend who was willing to get in my face with it), that it’s all Ego. I sometimes take on other people’s dreams as my dreams, my projects, my measure of success. If they are transformed and successful, I can say (to myself) “I did that”. For me, their failure is my failure, and I was taking it personally. If I’m not able to help them succeed, what does that say about me? It was a startling revelation. It stung. Badly. But it was needed. And it made me think.
I cannot be effective as a human being with Ego motivating my movement. If Ego is doing the driving, I’m moving and being from a place of fear, and that cripples everyone.
Instead of helping them get whole, I was being a hindrance. I was propping them up so they didn’t have to walk on their own. I was doing the thinking and moving (walking) for them. I wasn’t holding them accountable for their own healing or expecting them to responsible for their best lives. I was micro-managing their progress, afraid to let them make decisions and take actions on their own without my input, lest they fall. On top of it all, I didn’t trust that they knew what was best for them, or how to get there. I was defining myself by their success. I was an enabler. I accepted their mediocrity because I knew their stories. They were treated badly, rejected or worse, (insert unpleasant experience here). I secretly feared that they would not succeed. And I was responsible for keeping them right there.
In truth, it wasn’t my belief in them that was moving me, it was my lack of trust in them.
I was treating the people I loved most like children and not like people capable of success, good decisions, growth and change. Out loud, I gave my best “I believe in you” speech, while silently harboring resentment and giving myself the “who do you think you’re fooling?” talk the whole way. I thought that as long as I didn’t voice my fears publicly, that what I was saying out loud would win. What I now know, is that by accepting less than someone’s best or seeing them as incapable, I keep them in that place. If secretly, I harbor fears that they will never be successful, I am projecting failure and my own fears onto them. What a crazy cycle: challenging someone to pursue their best life while accepting less than that and unconsciously expecting them to fail.
So, I became a crutch. I decided to prop these people up. Sometimes, crutches are needed. When someone is hurt or broken, temporarily, they cannot move on their own. Pain distracts them from being effective. Crutches help bear the burden and the weight and give the reprieve needed for healing. Ultimately, though, bearing weight and walking unaided is what helps rehabilitate and facilitate healing. When crutches are used beyond the prescribed period, it can cripple people, sometimes permanently.
Crutches are not cures. The prolonged use of crutches creates co-dependency. Eventually, because the healing is incomplete or distorted, the person’s ability to move without them becomes impossible. Even if they give up the crutches later, growth has been stunted to such an extent that their ability to move and make progress independently is severely limited. On top of that, crutches can cause nerve damage. People who use them for too long can suffer damage that makes them numb. Their arms, which were not meant to bear the weight of the entire body eventually lose feeling and function. Now more than one area of the body is not functioning as it should. The crutch, too becomes battered, weakened and worn, less and less effective over time. It’s a lose-lose situation.The crippling guarantees the crutch a role forever in the person’s life but it’s not a healthy arrangement. Clearly, neither the person being “helped” or the crutch is operating in purpose when this is the pattern.
“We’re all here to do what we’re all here to do.”~ The Oracle in The Matrix
A dictator tells. A guru guides. An enlightened soul knows that each person is here to do what they’re to do; that each must all walk his or her own path and learn what was to be learned; that if people don’t receive the lesson, maybe it’s just not time, the learner wasn’t ready or it wasn’t the right teacher. They are detached from the outcome, wanting only the best for that person’s whole life, whether or not they are involved in the process. Wanting to be the “savior”, and thinking we know what’s best for someone’s life is arrogance and blocks us from doing our greatest work. I must not define myself by my assessment someone’’s willingness to listen, learn or succeed. Who am I to make that judgment? If I’m reminding someone day by day what they “need” to be doing, not trusting them to “get there”, or getting angry when I think they are not, I’ve moved into a place of ego and am on my way to being a crutch.
Friends and Family are not coaching opportunities. They are Relationships.
Awareness is a gift. I’m now aware and committed to checking myself, my motives and making sure that I’m being a cure, not a crutch. First, I cannot coach my family. While some relationships occasionally involve coaching from time to time, what’s required for an effective coaching relationship is not always what is effective for a healthy family dynamic. We have to allow people to try, learn, fail or succeed at their own pace. Their progress, or lack thereof has nothing to do with me. I will continue love my family members and hold them accountable, but I will detach from their outcomes. I will be aware of when I’ve moved into casting myself in the role of Heroine in their stories, and when I’ve inched over into the dangerous territory of associating my self worth and defining the the quality of the relationship with my assessment of their success. Who am I to say whether they are successful or not, anyway?
The truth is, it’s my job to create an environment of safety, unconditional love and support, so the the people I love can heal, succeed, be joyful and grow. I’m working on my part. The rest of the real work is up to them and God. What a relief that is.
What lessons have you learned on the journey? I’d love it if you’d share them here.
