Willow & oak

These talks are useful in that they provide more information. 

These talks are draining in that they open up all the wounds. 

Also. Information.

A part of me wishes that I could just give him the answer he wants right now. Because I love him. I hurt for him. And frankly I've always been a lover, a pleaser, a caregiver, a gentle truth teller. 

The willow tree that bends herself into water for the winds.

That's what my mother told me, "Better to be a willow that bends in the wind than a rigid oak that snaps in the storm."

My hard lesson: Even willows can snap. If they bend long enough, far enough.

There is a sweet spot. A balance. Somewhere between willow and oak. He is more oak than willow. The oakiest oak. So I responded by being the willowiest willow. 

And now here we are.

I no longer wish to be so willowy. And while validation from interaction with others is pertinent to any human being's lifelong development of self (because that shit doesn't end until you're dead in the ground/urn), I no longer want to define myself in relation to others. It's difficult not to overstep there because we rely on the existence of others for our sense of relativity. Yet, it's unhealthy to compare one's self to another whose experiences and genetics are unique to them. It's so delicate finding that right line, right spot.

I know better now why it was so easy for me to wade into the deep end of letting others define me. That base definition never completed for me during formative years.

And then, I threw myself into situations that prevented me from completing it on my own. Until now. 

I am not saying that I didn't develop further or gain definition over time. I've only inadvertently hindered it.

So, here I sit. Typing away into this screen. Thinking about the walk I want to take. The art I want to make. The space I want to create. 

I'll start by going to see if the lake isn't too crowded for a jog/walk.