The many things we do to ease the pain of those we love—is it good? Is it wrong? I know that hardship is part of growing into a strong person, and yet, sometimes, as parents, we stop that growth in the name of love.
It is that proverbial "I know a shortcut" story that I think will satisfy all of the pains and still create a teachable moment. I never realized at the time that love that intense can blind me to the traps that extend the three-month journey into three years in which we never reach the land we set out for.
Lost in the wild, we constantly try to get back on track to find the summit. But every time we see light up ahead and use more of ourselves, it is just a false peak, and we still have no idea how far we have to go or if we are even going the right way. It is a form of torture. In a way, I have tied myself to a chair as I watch all of this play out. I feel helpless and sad. I let everyone down, and they are frustrated.
Like a flooded basin, the pain of this decision to prevent pain begins to spread everywhere. It contaminates every corner of our lives. I look down at all the broken pieces this has caused and have no answers. Words and intentions are now stained with the blood of mistaken steps. Nothing is clear.
It is so ironic. All I wanted to do was ease their suffering, but instead, I created more and spread it out as far as the eye could see. I wish I knew how to get back. I wish I could make it better.
The path of least resistance is never that; it only looks that way. The hero becomes the hunted, and his party becomes hostages. It is torture day and night to make what seems a loving act and realize it was the worst way possible.
How can I stop the bleeding? Materially, that answer is simple. But what of the heart? What mending is there for that? Is it a one-for-one transaction: least resistance for weakness? Is depressive aggression the enemy? My lifelong stumbling block? I saw you in the woods as I sat facing the fire in late '83. I knew you were there. Why don't I ever learn?
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