“Wild animals run from the dangers they actually see, and once they escape them, worry no more. We however are tormented alike by what is past and what is to come.” – Seneca (one of the more well-known Stoics)
It’s so true, isn’t it? Have you ever watched a special on wild animals, such as caribou or gazelles? You see the cute little horned/hoofed animals, hanging out with their herd, peacefully eating some greens or drinking some water out of a lake or a stream, and then the camera zooms in on some big cat, like a lion, in prowling mode, watching intently, just waiting to strike and suss out the weak animals of the herd, like babies, or the old or infirm members of the group. And then you feel that distress and panic, filling your chest cavity, as you notice that a few members of the herd, have stopped what they are doing, and they are flicking their ears, looking and listening intently, and then suddenly and almost instantly, they bolt, the entire herd starts galloping . . . . . the terrifying chase is on, and the herd is going at a frantic pace, their galloping hooves pounding the earth with an intensity of nails being hammered deeply into the ground. And even though you know that big cats have to eat, too, you feel so stressed, and also hopeful that the herd will escape harm. Either way (depending on the wild animal special you happen to be watching at the time – I’ve seen it go both ways), the chase usually does end rather quickly, either with the predator giving up, or with the predator achieving its one and only kill, out of the hundreds that it could have gotten from the big, full, hefty herd. Wild animal specials are probably the only truly realistic “reality TV.”
Still, it never fails, once the imminent danger ends, the herd quickly goes back to chomping grass and drinking water. They seem absolutely nonplussed about the trauma they just encountered, nor worried about the next trauma that is guaranteed to happen down the line. The herd of hooved animals trust their instincts to help them in dangerous moments, and while they remain vigilant, they also remain calm.
We, too, are animals. We often put too much emphasis on our thoughts and minds, and not enough emphasis on honing our instincts. Interestingly, it’s our thoughts and minds that can become our worst predatory enemies, because they keep us hostage and hyper-vigilant. They keep us in “danger mode” all of the time. This makes us exhausted and feeling spent, and then not always clued into what is “real and actual danger” and what is not.
Don’t be your own predatory Big Cat. Be a gazelle. Be a giraffe. Know that your fine-tuned instincts/intuition will kick in when real danger presents itself. Learn to trust that inner knowing, more than you trust those thoughts that keep you prisoner in either a regretful past, or a fearsome future. Chew greens. Drink water. Be peace.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
123. Would you rather own a private jet or a luxury yacht?
Great analogy today, Kel.
I recently made the decision to ease back on a long-term friendship for the very reason you contemplate in today’s blog. My friend has a heart of gold and is always the first to lend a hand. No fault there. But she lives in a world of anticipatory fear, constantly courting the worst-case scenario, watching, waiting, and planning for it. She’s experienced medical trauma that is a valid source for her fear, so I agree with her that it’s in her family’s best interest to be up to date with doctor visits, etc. However, when good things happen – like the long-awaited promotion she just received – her first thought was, “It’s still not enough money to support us if my spouse dies.”
Her fear sucked all the joy out of the moment she had worked so hard to achieve! I began looking back at our interactions for the past few years and realized that wasn’t the first time. I’ve always felt frustrated with our relationship, and now I understand the reason. It’s hard to be friends with someone who refuses to live a whole life.
We’ve been friends for 50 years (you read that right – we met in middle school), so I am not giving up on her. I’ve recently got her to begin visiting my Reiki master, and it seems to be helping. I’ve talked a lot about how therapy helped me through the end of my marriage, and I hope that she is curious enough to investigate that as well. In the meantime, I’m quietly backing off a bit. I need the space to reevaluate what I’m comfortable with. I’m in a creative space and a period of growth, and I may need to spend time with her sparingly to accommodate my season of life.
I just realized that I probably feel sensitive about this topic because I USED TO BE the “warning” gazelle. I alerted the herd to danger and I was always on guard for it. That was my state of being for a long time while married to an untreated alcoholic. I’ve decompressed over the last 3+ years, and I’m not on edge anymore. This realization gives me a lot to think about!
It is so exhausting to constantly be hyper-vigilant. It’s something I always have to work on. (usually my blog posts are commentary to myself LOL) I understand how draining that friendship must be, Kelly. Boundaries are a beautiful thing.