Ripple Effects
06.12.10
Everyone knows that when the pebble crashes into the pond, there’s almost always a ripple effect from the strike upon the surface. However, what most don’t notice is that the minuscule pebble rips through each layer of water, sending shockwaves in every direction. It isn’t until the pebble sets into the sandy surface beneath that true impact has occurred. At that point, if the force is strong enough, a plume of dirt and debris on the bottom shoots up, clouding the water and sending a few bubbles to the surface, doubling the ripple effect though to a much less noticeable degree.
The same is true when we take to heart those moments of epiphany that strike us. Yesterday, I commented on the pebble that was my interaction with my trainer. In the pond of my psyche, the immediate ripple effect was documented there. However, it took until late last night and this morning for the stone to settle at the bottom of my soul, kicking back a cloud of confusion. It was time for me to face the second ripple effect.
I hinted at some of the challenges that have faced me in yesterday’s post, but they can all be conglomerated into one aspect of my existence. I’ve never had a secure social support network. Surely, I’ve had many instances where friends have come to my aid in times of need. I won’t ever forget or diminish the importance of those times. However, I have to face a fear I haven’t wanted to face. It’s been up to me.
I think when you come from a strong social support network, you don’t necessarily realize how much you rely on others for support. Whether it’s simply seeking advice from a trusted parent or a little cash to carry you through a rough time or encouraging words to overcome your challenges, how many of us have had to live in the absence of such support. It’s a frightening existence when it just isn’t there, especially when you feel weak.
It’d be one thing if I had been a strong motherfucker when I was growing up. The truth is that I wasn’t at all, nowhere near it actually. I fumbled through life as best as I could, but it wasn’t a fluid movement, but more of a herky jerky mess. Whenever something did go wrong, it upset the very foundations of my existence. I had no one to turn to then, so I turned to the only source I knew that wouldn’t abandon me, God.
Over the years, through religion and a community of friends, I found the strength to carry on. However, I never saw it as an internal source of strength. It was all external, ripples on the surface, sent into a frenzy of concentric circles by the compassionate embraces of those who loved me. Who I am became an issue though, and my imagined world of support crumbled into dust. I left God behind and turned toward sex.
However, the passionate embraces of others led me to no greater comfort even though I was accepting myself in a new way without judgment. It wasn’t until I moved away to Seattle in search of more that the ripples from striking rock bottom bubbled to the surface. I began to find happiness and security in my identity. I was transforming from someone of weakness to someone of inner strength.
The problem though was that I’d been giving credit to all those who surrounded me. I didn’t take it for myself. I felt saved by my friends instead of seeing the reality behind the myth. I was never weak to begin with, but always had an immense amount of strength.
It’s hard to look outside of yourself, or rather, to look beneath the surface with enough clarity to see the impact of who you are upon your life. I never wanted to see myself as someone of strength because then all of my failures rested solely on my shoulders. I couldn’t be a victim and reside in my assumed weakness. It hadn’t been until this pursuit of a military career that I’d pushed myself hard enough to realize the store of inner strength waiting to be utilized.
When I began running twelve weeks ago, my immediate thoughts when its difficulty became apparent was, “I can’t.” Now, it has transformed to, “I can.” I never saw that I had a defeated attitude. I was just as surprised when it transitioned to one of a champion. I have succeeded in my physical goals. I can take credit for that accomplishment. It’s about time I did it for my spiritual and psychological successes as well.
This morning, I looked back on some of the times that I had to rest on the assistance of others. Each time, I did so, it wasn’t because I didn’t think I could make it deep down. No, each time, it was simply because I didn’t want to awaken that self-reliant beast that was slumbering within me. However, now it needs to awaken. I need that strength to carry me through the next ten weeks and beyond. The acceptance of its presence and influence has drastically altered how I see myself and my social support network.
I realized this morning that I have been all the social support network that I need. I’ve been the one to pick myself up off the ground and keep going. I’ve been the one to peer deep into my psyche to learn as much as I can from every experience of life. I’ve been the one to create my own illusions in order to carry me through, whether it was a deity or a denizen of friends. I’ve been the author of my own survival and I need to realize who I have always turned to in times of distress, myself.
Yes, there’s a certain sense of detachment from others when you realize that you’ve been self-reliant all your life, especially when you tried so desperately to mask it. There’s a certain lack of willingness to compromise your character, especially when you feel that others fail to accept you for who you are. There’s a certain store of strength that will never abandon you, especially when you’ve been the only constant in a long life of upheaval. It’s what some may mistake as a narcissistic bent, when it’s simply the ripple effects of having been raised the way in which you were, having survived the only way you knew how and having accepted who you are without shame.