I told my son Riley, that when he got married, I was going to get a separate pair of shoes for the reception, so I wouldn’t break myself like I did at the last family wedding. They are comfortable and pretty snazzy if I must say so myself. Metaphorically? I think they clearly represent something else as well. Let me start with this: at this juncture in my life, I am no one’s mother, wife, administrator, fixer, chef, student, teacher, or the multitude of other roles I’ve fulfilled diligently (even if imperfectly) up to now. Nor am I the figment of imagination that exists in the minds of people I have no direct contact with out in cyber world. At this specific moment, I am walking unhindered by any expectations others may have of me in how to proceed forward, which feels pretty blind right now. It’s all new territory, much of which I admit I don’t have any rational grip on yet. I know my heart has been struggling a lot with love trajectories and in trying to get messages and observations out there that are simple, understandable and pure…but that’s not really how life works is it. So, for me, standing alone in my own shoes…I have to figure out how to have faith in my own badass butterfly feet. (This was where I paused my draft…)
And, as it happens…a full day later after I paused this draft…and the timing of which is indisputable proof that a huge lesson was coming my way, shit hit my shoes…
The day started with the deep sadness of losing a patient to suicide, Steve tried to help him overcome autoimmune struggles and a dependence on Benzos..(to treat anxiety and other nervous system diseases). The patient was so kind, and I was a bit of a wreck…which is a perfect time for the darkness to strike. While not going into too much detail, a conversation derailed with another patient, who I clearly believed misunderstood something I said, and in my attempts to explain, it escalated even further. The words got loud, and I got him back to a room, but also refused to be chastised for starting “something” which I admit, got me even more riled up (and yes, it could have been my ego). When the patient was leaving, he wanted to continue his outrage, and I directed and followed him outside. Thinking it was time to transform into my badass butterfly, I yelled too, refusing to succumb to his description of the conversation and challenging him on gaslighting…which was the wrong thing to say, and it riled him up further. As the shouting match became untenable, I said that we should stop, and I had to get back to work (plus I was visibly shaking by this point). Once I got inside, a patient grabbed me and hugged me. I apologized, and tried to slow down my breathing.
As I went back to my desk, I saw outside our window that the police had come and stopped the patient from leaving. I didn’t think, I just walked outside and greeted the police and told them that I was the other party that was engaged in the very loud argument. I wanted them to see I was ok. I tried to mitigate the situation by explaining the shouting match by putting my hand on the patient’s shoulder and saying that it was just a heated conversation that got out of hand and apologized for breaching the peace. I guess a couple people called from the parking lot (we share it with a grocery store). I showed them my ID, and went on my way. They stayed in the parking lot, this guy giving a speech for about a half hour. I didn’t care what he said, because I should have figured out early on that he really didn’t care about anything I had to say at all. Since it was lunch time, I made my way to the fitness club where I work out during lunch. Still shaking, it took me an hour of hard work to settle down.
Being a badass butterfly, didn’t feel the same as it did in my dream. The emotions storming through me were too tumultuous at the time and I felt exhausted, defeated, incompetent in wielding love that I so confidently preach about. Thankfully, my older brother settled me down when I called him (thanks John…I love you) and helped to focus my effort to stand up for myself in my own solitary shoes, the emotions already surfacing from tragedy, and that even though I was acting from goodness, I can’t control the results, and the phrase from the Little Prince about words being the source of misunderstanding suddenly popped into my head. And most importantly? I am imperfect and have to learn from the situation. After lunch, I went to the two suites that surround us to apologize for the unprofessional argument only to hear that they were truly worried about me, this little woman standing while a man screamed in her face (I screamed too, but I get the physical imbalance of the situation). There was no swearing, no name calling, just me standing against what I felt was an unjust portrayal of “what I meant, and what I actually said” and in all honesty, that was all I cared about…my own clarification. Perhaps I am just being naive again, while I never thought I would be harmed, none of those in the other offices felt that way and stood on guard to help if anything happened.
Wielding love, at that moment was hard and for my part was an abject failure. I don’t have a security team, or popular presence showering me with adulation like so many people who are in the spotlight fighting against hate and violence or simply celebrating their beautiful blueprints with the world. And while I know that all situations have their difficulties, I sympathize with all the small lights out there who are walking alone in just their own shoes and trying to be a presence of love in the world. There are so many examples of how overwhelmed people are at this time in history, and every action can fuel the flames or give them a reason to hope. I am sad, humbled, and at the same time in awe of the strength I showed in the moment. I also realize, however, walking in my solitary shoes is harder than I thought and that I need love sent my way too, so trajectories? please send some my way….