Tag Archives: boundaries

Codependency and the Relationship Pillow

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing, Journaling, Peace

Journal 2019

I read recently where a therapist placed three pillows on the floor and instructed her two clients to each pick a pillow on which to stand. “Your own pillow represents your soul,” she told them. “It belongs to no one else but you.” Next, she explained the middle pillow. “This one is called Relationship. Each of you may choose to go to the center pillow and discuss what you want out of the relationship, but at no time may you step on another person’s pillow. It is creepy and codependent to try to control somebody else’s soul.”

I started to explain this concept to a client one day when she was struggling to let go of some codependent relationships, but the Lord gave her a different visual. Jesus had been meeting with her in a small cabin (representing her soul) that was decorated exactly as she wanted it with warm cozy colors, a fireplace, and a comfy chair. She had also invited her adult children into her cabin and was not willing to send them out into the cold, even if she herself had to sit on the floor. “I’d do anything for my kids,” she declared.

The problem was that she was running out of food to feed those adults while her own soul was starting to shrivel and starve. Jesus explained to her that her children had their own cabins with plenty of food in them, and she was doing them a disservice by insisting they live with her. “Your cabin is unique to you,” He explained, “and you can’t fully grow into who you were meant to be if you share the space with others.”

“If I let them go,” she wondered, “does that mean I never get to see them again?”

“Oh, no,” Jesus replied. “You can always go visit them on their porch or they can come visit you, but you must not move into each other’s cabins to live.”

As I trace the steps of my own story, I can see how often I allowed others to take up residence in my cabin or on my pillow. Unwise and unhealthy choices stunted both of us. Through my processing, I’ve discovered that the more I keep healthy boundaries, the faster their healing occurs. It’s easy to say I wish I’d known all this at the beginning of my life, but in truth, knowing something and acting on it are two different things. I knew these truths on the left side of my brain, but right-side emotions kept jumping in and taking over. It feels like a long, slow process to get where I am today. Some days I wonder if I’ll ever learn the lessons God is trying to teach me. But as I read back over my journals, I discover that what used to trigger me no longer has power over me.

Living in peace is superior to living in pieces!

The Playground

Posted on by under Choices, God

Journal 2010. Practicing the presence of Jesus is a worthy goal, but I don’t believe it means my mind must be focused 100% on Him every second of the day. I begin my day with Jesus, followed by the day’s activities where my awareness and conversation with Him ebbs and flows. Today I came to the end of a project in which I was totally focused and absorbed and then suddenly, abruptly, refocused on God. It made me think about relationships and a playground.

Watch a parent take a child to the playground. Some children let go of the parent’s hand quite readily and run off to play, totally oblivious to any potential danger—because they are keenly aware that the parent is nearby. But often throughout the morning, the child will run back to the parent for a snack, for a drink, with a skinned knee, for comfort, for delight (“Look at me! See what I can do”), for rest, for conversation.

The parent knows there is danger outside the perimeters. The child is aware of boundaries and off limits as instructed by the parent, but he has total freedom within the boundaries to choose which piece of equipment, which child to play with, how often and how long to play with each. Freedom within the boundaries. The child is conscious of the parent’s presence, even if he is not interacting with him every second.

And so I go about my day, resting, working, playing, interacting with others, but always aware of the presence of my Father. I never have to ask permission to play on a certain piece of equipment. It’s all permissible. But if I want to leave the premises, I better get His permission first, and I know He’ll accompany me if I do. My Father will always be there. And if I run away, He’ll pursue me. He loves me!

My boarding school playground in Nigeria, supervised by “Aunties” and “Uncles”

Scream Time

Posted on by under Choices, Motherhood

From my 2009 Journal. What makes a good story great? What details make it acceptable? Realism? What scenes are acceptable for children to watch? What stories will leave them with nightmares and fears? At what point or age or maturity do we allow exposure to “reality”? Some unfortunate children experience far too much reality for their age. Some are more sensitive to violence and others to PG rating content and others to language. How long can we or should we as parents or grandparents shelter their innocence?

I don’t think we can predict what that limit is for a child . . . until it’s too late. We were pretty strict about what movies we allowed our girls to watch; but it wasn’t until she was an adult, that one of my imaginative daughters reported having had nightmares of spiders and wolves from our bedtime story The Hobbit. Who knew!

Spider

These decisions for our children are messy ones for each stage of their growth. How can we push back against the culture? My girls are grown now, and I don’t have to grapple anymore with these questions. But soon I may be influencing grandchildren, and I need to know what limits and boundaries are best for them.

And now it’s 2020, and I have 4 handsome grandsons to love on. I find I don’t think much about these questions anymore because I’ve relinquished all control and decisions to their parents (I’m thankful they have good boundaries). And when the boys are solely under my care, I’m far more apt to engage with them face-to-face with table games and hikes and playgrounds and reading or telling non-scary stories than to indulge in screen time together—or as one grandson calls it: “scream time” (and I’ll never correct him!)