Push Me Pull You

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few weeks ago I gave each of the puppies their first bone.  What took

place next fascinated me:

 

   Instantly smitten with a mixture of excitement and unsettledness, Hoss wants to chew his right next to Hemi, but Hemi is torn between hiding hers from Hoss and wanting to chew it near him.  She pushes the bone as far back in her mouth as she can until only the very tip is sticking out. I wonder if she is hiding it while deciding what to do!  She scrambles from room to room, from chair to chair, from one corner to the another, looking for a safe place, crying, whimpering.  The sound is pitiful. I want to rescue her, but curiosity keeps me waiting to see how this will play out. 

 

Hoss also wants the company of his sister.  He keeps getting up to follow her around.  Upon reaching her, he plops down to chew only to have her abandon him again.  He gives up and goes to the dog bed to chew in peace.  Hemi, not finding a safe place to chew and still be close to Hoss, sits sadly in the middle of the room and with bone stuffed in her mouth, lifts her head up and wails a long, muted, most pitiful howl.  She melts my heart; I have to rescue her.  I put her in the puppy play pen, plan to move Hoss and dog bed where she can see him.  As I slide brother, bone and bed toward Hemi, Hoss looks up at me completely baffled while Hemi, safe, yet close, immediately settles and chews.   I just have to laugh when Hoss gives me a 'whatever' shake of his puppy head and settles back into chewing.

 

   Isn't this so much like our own human conundrum with intimacy?  We want to be close, but not too close.  We want to share, but not always.  We want others to be vulnerable so it is safe for us to be vulnerable. We want someone to show us the way, someone to show they are trustworthy first. Instead of developing our own sense of inner trust, we look to the other to be the bridge builder.  When we feel small, we want someone bigger and more powerful to do our work for us.  We want to trust, but sometimes we can't.  And sometimes, we are simply clueless about what's going on. Don't we all long for a place to be safe?  Where we can be truly intimate emotionally-spiritually-physically? 

 

     After Hemi had more experiences of bones, and once I give her a chance to gnaw her bone alone and protected at first,  she is then able to chew right beside Hoss, even trade bones.  Isn't this also   like us?  We sometimes ask our children to share their toys before they have a chance to own them. They can't give and share what they don't own.  And, I know many women, myself included , who are tempted to give too much of themselves away before they have developed and/or continually nurture a strong sense of self. 

 

All of our experiences are okay.  We can be gentle with our own processes while discovering

that safety, sharing, and intimacy begin with 'me'.  Through prayer and meditation, through body awareness and intuition, through communion with nature and beauty and community, we find our center and find deepest trust.  I want to give from interior freedom, from a centering in my faith, from a well-developed and well-nurtured sense of self.  And have people around me who can hold me accountable, who can gently call my bluffs.

 

      With God's help, I want to keep doing my interior work,  dialogue with others who are willing to do theirs.  Together we can create real places of safety in this often troubling world. 

 

Joyfully,

Sharon