Drama wanted to come for a visit yesterday. I know this drama, once allowed in, it takes over my home, steals all of my emotional energy, takes my money, separates me from my husband, keeps me from sleeping. This drama knocks on the door, if I don’t answer, it tries to barge right in, uninvited, when my back is turned. I lock the doors, try to reinforce the boundaries, drama can be heard imploring for entrance through the cracks under the door. I call in help, ask for support. I need reminders that I am bigger than this, I don’t have to play host to this intruder.

Disengaging from the choices others make is ultimately a matter of survival for me. I know that I am a rescuer, my instinct is to always give my lifejacket away and then I risk drowning. In the past I have given my preserver to those not even in the water, those taunting from the shore. I was confused, I thought if I just gave more, ever more, we would have reconciliation. We would all swim together. I know differently now. Some people will just never stay in the water with me, not for long anyway. Maybe only long enough for me to think we are all comfortable, we are delighting in the same pool. Drama joins our swim party, the cycle begins again. Except I am just too tired to keep swimming, keep recsuing, keep interacting with drama. I am choosing to try new strategies. I don’t want to risk drowning anymore.

Challenging old patterns, making new choices of how to respond is not without consequences as well. Drama insists on being heard, taking the spotlight. The more I liberate myself, the stronger the pushback. Patterns want to remain. Every next step requires extreme care, considered maneuvering, much as a child’s first steps. I hold onto the wise words of friends, I tread slowly. I stop and ponder how to get back to safety. Yesterday my soul was screaming, “I want to go back to the mountains.” I gave my soul some attention, listened to the voice that was telling me danger lurked ahead. I can’t get on a motorcycle and escape my current situation, how can I regain the lessons from the mountains while still here with drama trying to create unrest?

When I looked at the valleys, the canyons of Colorado, I remembered how small I was and big God is. I was reminded of my little place in the huge picture, flowers grew without me. Water trickled from snow capped mountains to find rivers below. God has a plan that doesn’t require my lifejacket, my involvement in ensuring that all his seeds sprout, that all the snows melt and find their way home. Yes, the mountains, my soul whispered, remember what we learned there. We are a seed also, God showed us how to bloom.

Drama is going to keep knocking, this drama is going to grow. Protecting my fragile heart is my priority, rather than rescuing others from the choices they have made.  I can only pray they someday take their own trip to the mountains. Maybe then we will all swim and truly relish the water together.  For now, I’m focusing on all the pictures of my trip, listening to my soul and keeping my door locked.  Drama, you are not welcome here.

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