Warning: graphic description below.
There is a person in my life whom I feel a personal responsibility for. She is a someone I care about deeply, but often I don’t agree with her decisions. This dissonance, and my disapproval is actually something that has come between us over the years. Recently, it’s been something I’ve been trying to sort out.
A few nights ago, I had a dream I was trying to rescue her from a horrific situation where she was involved in a relationship with someone I perceived to be abusive.
“Hide in this cupboard!” I yelled to her as the kitchen floor filled up with ocean water. Sharks started swimming in viciously. I prepared myself for this strange battle by grabbing a razor-sharp butcher’s knife and started to slash these aquatic beasts open. I fought blindly and violently until blood was murky in the water, their bodies dismembered.
“One final one before we’re safe,” I thought as I hacked the blade through the torso of the animal.
But suddenly, this was no longer the body of an aggressive fish…
this was the body of the person I was trying to save.
I stood waist-deep in this bleeding water, paralyzed.
I woke up gasping for air.
The confrontational message was loud and clear: my criticism and disapproval, though I thought was for the best was actually killing the very essence of her.
By trying to "save" her all this time, I've actually been suffocating her spirit and ripping apart her life.
Maybe she needs to explore what it means to be her.
Maybe she needs to make her mistakes.
Maybe she needs to grow.
Maybe she doesn't even need to be saved.
Maybe the universe has her back.
Maybe not saving her life actually lets her live.