Lessons Learned: The Complex Dynamics of Saving Others and Bearing Their Pain

So, I didn’t quite keep the promise I made to you about writing a post on stress. I was really sure I'd get to it, I promise.

But alas, my inspiration was a little elusive this time. So, forgive me for that.

Sometimes, you know, inspiration just sneaks up on you out of nowhere, without so much as a heads-up.

So, what exactly are the daily life lessons we gather? To me, it feels like it's all about being mindful. It’s this kind of organic healing process, not something you plan for—it just shows up, and suddenly, you're dealing with it in the most natural way possible. And who are the best teachers in this journey? Well, friends, family, and our environment, of course.

Now, onto what's been on my mind lately. I’ve come to understand that you can't support everyone in the same way. We all have different ways of giving and receiving love, different needs, triggers, and wounds.

See, we often think that “support” means offering advice. But sometimes, advice isn't what the other person needs, and that's something we have to accept. Sometimes, support just means lending an ear, providing a safe space for expression without any judgment.

I know it might sound tough to grasp, right? Ever wondered why people feel the need to vocalize their thoughts? Sometimes, they just need a sounding board, a mirror to reflect their inner thoughts, almost like pouring their heart out into a diary.

But what happens when your opinion is banging on the door, demanding to be heard? What about when you see someone you care about treading a rocky path? What about when you want nothing but the best for them, yet they're not ready to see what you see?

Here’s the simple truth: we have to accept that we can't control someone else's life path. We can't control their choices, even if we know they might get hurt. Maybe they need to go through that pain for reasons beyond our understanding, reasons related to their own healing journey.

Can you relate to this feeling? That uncomfortable knot in your stomach when someone you care about makes a decision that's clearly not in their best interest? It's a tough spot to be in, isn't it?

I get it; I've been there countless times. There's always this urge to shield our loved ones from harm. But I've learned a crucial lesson: you can't save them.

If you're anything like me, born with that innate caregiver instinct, it might seem impossible to accept. There's this deep-seated belief that screams, “I CAN FIX THIS!” But unfortunately, you can't. Because their power of choice is more sacred than your desire to spare them pain.

And you know what else? When we try to save someone, it's not just about shielding them from suffering; it's also about shielding ourselves from our own pain

I know it sounds harsh, almost unfair. But the only way to navigate through this is by accepting that suffering is an inevitable part of life. It's like joy and peace—they all come bundled together. And there are some things in life that we just can't control.

How do you control an accident? Or something bigger than yourself? You can try to prevent it, sure, but you can never fully tame the unpredictable nature of life.

I know these words might stir up a whirlwind of emotions within you, maybe even scare you a bit. But here's the thing we often overlook: the present moment.

Take a moment to feel it.

Are you sitting on a chair reading this blog? How does it feel? Is it plush and cozy, or a tad uncomfortable? (If it's the latter, I suggest switching to your bed, pronto!) Is the air around you chilly or warm? What about the scent—pleasant or otherwise? And most importantly, how does your body feel? Is there tension, or are you at ease?

Pause for just a minute, soak in the present, and be grateful for it.

Because right now, in this very moment, you have things so simple yet so precious, things that often slip by unnoticed.

And you might be wondering, "Hey, how do we transition from discussing support to embracing the present moment?" Well, that's actually a valid question, haha! But let me try to explain it as best as I can: It's primarily about managing feelings of control and grappling with suffering, as I mentioned earlier—these aspects are beyond our influence. And what's the sole refuge that offers us solace and stability? The present moment.

Here's a personal anecdote to prompt some reflection:

Once upon a time, I found myself in a situation that was clearly unhealthy for me. Deep down, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't break free. It felt like I was trapped in an emotional labyrinth. While it was obvious to others that I should leave, it wasn't as simple for me. My body screamed "RUN," while my mind played a relentless game of "LEAVE, STAY, LEAVE, STAY." I felt utterly stuck, caught in a freeze response.

Those around me didn't know how to support me anymore. For them, leaving seemed like the obvious solution. But for me, it wasn't that straightforward. And the more they insisted, the more uncomfortable I felt. I began questioning myself: "What's wrong with me? Why can't I leave? Am I weak? Am I stupid? Or are they the ones who don't understand?"

Their intentions were noble, but their approach was flawed. They spoke out of turn, offering advice without seeking permission, failing to provide a safe space for me to express myself. We must acknowledge that not everyone sees the world as we do. We all carry different wounds, traumas, and life experiences. What's crystal clear to me might be entirely opaque to you.

We need to accept that we can't save anyone. We can offer support, yes, but we can't shield them from pain.

When we offer support, it must come from a place of compassion. Always ask for permission before sharing your thoughts. Instead of saying, "I did this, you did that, this is right, or this is wrong," approach the situation with gentleness. For instance, if someone opens up about an unhealthy relationship, resist the urge to retaliate. Instead, offer words of empathy and practical assistance.

Ask questions like, "How can I support you right now?" or "Shall we take a walk and talk about it?" Check in with them regularly, asking if they feel safe, if they have the energy to take care of themselves, if they have the energy to cope.

Ultimately, everyone will chart their own course and find their own answers. We can be their anchor, but we can't force them to see what they're not ready to see. You can spend hours explaining the harm of a situation, but if they're not receptive, you're only causing yourself unnecessary pain.

Trust in their journey and intuition. And above all, create a safe space in the present moment.

I want to express my gratitude to my friends for inspiring this reflection.

(Please note: This post should not be applied to situations involving threats of harm or extreme danger. In such cases, it's essential to contact emergency services and allow professionals to intervene.)