Welcome to The Wildroot Parables weekly discussions! This is where we can come together as a community and have real talk with one another: open, honest, gracious, and curious.
This is YOUR space to discuss with each other, not just engage with me! Because of this, SAFE SHARING is my highest priority. If you are not engaging safely and with grace with others, you will have to leave. Period.
Thank you for entering this space with care!
On Monday, our meditation was all about an unsung spring symbol: the humble snake. These beautiful creatures are often used as a metaphor for rebirth, for letting the old pass away, and for shedding what no longer fits.
Today, let’s discuss: can you think of something you have had to “shed” in the past year or so? It could be a belief that no longer serves you, a habit, a concern, or any part of your inner landscape. And how do you feel when you look back and see that “skin” has been left behind? Share below!
This winter void space summoned in me a shedding from the depths of my shadowy defenses. A mechanism that translated into accommodating relational dynamics that suppressed my Wholeness and kept me feeling separate. An untangling of all the ways I have accepted and allowed others to choose how I served them - all in service to feeling a sense of safety and belonging within the longevity of love. Yet, in reflection I can see how this deeply wounded me, perpetuated the pain that I already carried. This false perception of a love connection was a building ground for illusion. And so this winter I began to pull the threads and heal the frayed edges. Relationships in my life dropped like flies. Without my accommodating tendency - the connection points dissolved rapidly. How many of these friends actually knew me? And then the reality arrived with clarity... I need to steward my Wholeness responsibly, in honor of ME, with intentionality, resonating my authentic frequency. And witness the beauty of belonging emerge naturally. Big lessons this winter - painful, emotional, honest, and liberating. Thank you for the space to share here and for the invitation to ponder how the snake has supported me in my revealing.
A few weeks ago I had to set the wheels in motion to end a 20+ year-long friendship. I'm 29 and I've been friends with my former best-friend since we were 14, and I've known her since we were 7. She's a childhood friend, and we have so much history. What prompted the end of the friendship was therapy and an overwhelming sense that God was not in that relationship with us.
What we had was very co-dependent for a time, then rather one-sided in terms of support, and then egg-shelly at the end. It was a lot of her doing and saying things over the course of ten or so years that didn't make any sense to me morally--things that I felt were really harmful to her and her children. I felt like honesty wasn't there between us, and that we called one another best friends, but neither of us actually knows the other, and that when I finally tried to genuinely connect as the adults that we now are: I saw no common ground.
Now that she knows how I feel and contact has been totally cut-off, I feel authentic. I also feel that the judgmental role I played for her is over: her life can continue the way that she pleases without feeling like I disapprove. It's painful but ultimately right, something like a bone being reset after a break.
This is less about the recent past than about the looming future. At 72 I'm still enjoying working at my profession 4 days per week, yet I know I am at -- or approaching -- the age when people usually retire. While I see retirement as more of a process than an event, I confess to a certain deep unease when I think of shedding that skin of my work-identity. It's an old cliche, I realize, and I use to scoff at others whose self-image became overly tied to what they did for a living. Now that I'm the one peering into that uncertain future, I scoff a lot less!
Wow, I came in a day late (usually I read WP right away) but I’m so glad I did - the comments on friendships, authenticity, and shedding of these relationships that no longer serve us were profound. I’ve experienced the same in recent years and it’s so freeing! Hard. So very hard, but well worth it and freeing.
This winter void space summoned in me a shedding from the depths of my shadowy defenses. A mechanism that translated into accommodating relational dynamics that suppressed my Wholeness and kept me feeling separate. An untangling of all the ways I have accepted and allowed others to choose how I served them - all in service to feeling a sense of safety and belonging within the longevity of love. Yet, in reflection I can see how this deeply wounded me, perpetuated the pain that I already carried. This false perception of a love connection was a building ground for illusion. And so this winter I began to pull the threads and heal the frayed edges. Relationships in my life dropped like flies. Without my accommodating tendency - the connection points dissolved rapidly. How many of these friends actually knew me? And then the reality arrived with clarity... I need to steward my Wholeness responsibly, in honor of ME, with intentionality, resonating my authentic frequency. And witness the beauty of belonging emerge naturally. Big lessons this winter - painful, emotional, honest, and liberating. Thank you for the space to share here and for the invitation to ponder how the snake has supported me in my revealing.
A few weeks ago I had to set the wheels in motion to end a 20+ year-long friendship. I'm 29 and I've been friends with my former best-friend since we were 14, and I've known her since we were 7. She's a childhood friend, and we have so much history. What prompted the end of the friendship was therapy and an overwhelming sense that God was not in that relationship with us.
What we had was very co-dependent for a time, then rather one-sided in terms of support, and then egg-shelly at the end. It was a lot of her doing and saying things over the course of ten or so years that didn't make any sense to me morally--things that I felt were really harmful to her and her children. I felt like honesty wasn't there between us, and that we called one another best friends, but neither of us actually knows the other, and that when I finally tried to genuinely connect as the adults that we now are: I saw no common ground.
Now that she knows how I feel and contact has been totally cut-off, I feel authentic. I also feel that the judgmental role I played for her is over: her life can continue the way that she pleases without feeling like I disapprove. It's painful but ultimately right, something like a bone being reset after a break.
This is less about the recent past than about the looming future. At 72 I'm still enjoying working at my profession 4 days per week, yet I know I am at -- or approaching -- the age when people usually retire. While I see retirement as more of a process than an event, I confess to a certain deep unease when I think of shedding that skin of my work-identity. It's an old cliche, I realize, and I use to scoff at others whose self-image became overly tied to what they did for a living. Now that I'm the one peering into that uncertain future, I scoff a lot less!
Wow, I came in a day late (usually I read WP right away) but I’m so glad I did - the comments on friendships, authenticity, and shedding of these relationships that no longer serve us were profound. I’ve experienced the same in recent years and it’s so freeing! Hard. So very hard, but well worth it and freeing.