November 12, 2012

Pressure

I was having relationship trouble and I was talking to my mom about it. I will never forget what she said:

        "Remind him you're just like a horse; you move away from pressure."

I do not think at that point that I had ever considered that part of myself.  And definitely not in a way that I could explain to someone else.  But in that moment, and many moments since, it has continued to make perfect sense to me.  And in many ways it remains a core truth of my experience of myself.

The catch is that pressure seems to carry a lot of negativity.  We feel pressured to be perfect, do our best, make everyone happy, do the right thing, or pressure is what makes us crack or break.  Pressure implies that there is something internal or external that expects or wants something from us.  Too much pressure is unbearable but no pressure is considered comfortable - 'No pressure, whatever you want!'

Internal pressure is a feeling I am familiar with.  I have a drive to be perfect, never let anyone down, keep everyone around me happy, do everything just right, look good doing it, and the list goes on.  I will be the first to admit that it can be exhausting.  I am slowly learning to recognize when the pressure I place on myself about something is out of my control and when I need to let to let the 'right answer' go.  However, the internal pressure have is also one of my greatest strengths.  I am not someone who does anything half-heartedly.  The pressure I place on myself internally is what defines who I am in the world.  The pressure puts my passion to work and creates a drive to always be learning, growing, and changing.  Being able to recognize when the internal pressure serves me and when it is breaking me is important.

External pressure feels like a whole different game.  I don't own that pressure, I can just feel it.  It's harder to reframe, harder to understand, and harder to judge the intention of.   I have however, become more and more accustomed to what it feels like to be sensitive to the pressure around me and react accordingly.

The last time I was at the ranch, a young man in our group volunteered to be an example client in front of a very large group of observers.  When asked what he wanted to talk to the horses about he shared he had some questions about his current relationship.  I could feel the crowd creeping closer to catch every word both he said and to catch every detail of my grandmother's facilitation of the experience.  When I looked to the horse he was sharing the experience with-our lead mare Be, she began to walk away from the crowd and I felt her saying, 'Come on kid, let's go.'  For me, that moment felt private for Be and the client and the pressure of the listening ears felt rude.  So, I simply stayed back in the field and waited.  It is not a judgement of those who followed Be and the client, but simply the awareness that I did not need to.

In many ways I use pressure as information about any given situation.  It's the sensory device I use to determine safety and underlying experiences.  And that very well may be a skill I learned from Holly.  If you want to see pressure in action just watch someone who is focused and determined to meet Holly. Their pressure can feel predatory and Holly won't come near.  Just staring at her can be too much.  And when it is she leaves the situation.  Flight.  She moves away from the pressure.  I have in many ways adopted this defense mechanism as well.  However, I have come to learn that in human experiences escaping pressure can be more complicated.

When Holly escapes from pressure she moves into more space and the threat is gone.  It can only come from so many places or people or creatures.  Escaping pressure in the human world is more difficult.  It can come from multiple angles with many intentions and then there are social expectations that make just leaving the physical situation unacceptable or often ineffective.  And hiding from things - literally or physically, is not a habit that is good to depend on.  And you can trust me on this: I've tried many variations of escaping pressure both ways and rarely has it made me feel safe or in control.  (Here comes that fear again...) And because of these experiences, pressure has become something that I am almost terrified of and it will drive me to the very edge looking for an escape.

But I think I finally discovered my defense.  The answer is not finding a faster way out, or avoiding everything all together.  Instead, it is standing my ground.

TERRIFYING.

I stood my ground in the face of questionable intentions and a lot of pressure.  I had to stand my ground for days.  And it was uncomfortable, painful, and scary. And I was accused of being many other things.  But at the end of it I didn't feel afraid or ashamed or weak or afraid like I do constantly running or hiding.  I feel secure and confident. Safe.

After processing this experience I realized I was not giving Holly enough credit.  She is a zebra, after all.  A fierce and confident zebra who could, if given the chance, could break a lion's jaw with a kick from her hind feet.  I felt lion-like pressure and I responded with all my zebra strength.  And it worked! That is a empowering feeling.  Suddenly, external pressure doesn't feel like an impossible challenge.  I can feel it in my gut, gauge my response, and if it feels negative or predatory I have more then flight as an option.  And I have more strength then I thought.

Even though this discovery happened far away from Holly, I would be foolish to ignore her role in it.  I know that soon I can share space with my zebra sister and I will tell her all about that time I ran into a lion and lived to tell the tale.  But I can close my eyes right now and picture her with of her tail and stomp of her foot whispering to me, 'Well, of course you did!  You're a zebra.'

November 11, 2012

it's snowing

'it's snowing.'
you whisper.
i jump from beneath the blankets
to see the white floating down,
silently. magically.
the air is cold.
i giggle.
crawl back in
and kiss your shoulder.
slide my leg through yours.
'it's my favorite day of the year.'
i whisper back.

'it's snowing.'
the text message says.
your first words to me in months.
no whisper.
no touch.
far away from you,
it is just bitter cold and windy.
no magic.
'not here.'
i say back.

i wonder if you're remembering too.
how much i love the first snow.
and how much i loved you.