STRENGTH
He stood there, unable to move. his body covered with a rigid second skin from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. it allowed him no movement, he could only stand and look straight ahead.
He didn't know how long he had been standing there- it seemed forever. His arms out stretched with a gesture of pleading. But he couldn't move them. His mouth wanting to plead for release, but was unable to speak...only his eyes showed the fear, the soul wrenching pain and the consuming desire for release which went to his very soul.
He had seen glimpses of many people who had tried to help him- they had always been stopped by the second skin which he wore. They had never been able to make a dent in the armor in which he had been encased, and had gone away without being able to release him. They did not understand what it took to penatrate that shell which held him. They were chased away by the voice which came from the speaker on the chest which proclaimed that he had chosen to be where he was and to leave him alone. They did not look into his eyes and see what was really there.
There came one who ignored the speaker, who looked into his eyes and saw what was really there. She knew how to remove the second skin, and started to release him-.. always watching his eyes. As the skin started to open, the smallest crack, she saw a look of absolute panic, and she understood the terror that she saw.
He had worn that skin for so long that he believed with it gone, he might die or that he would have no strength and would not evn be able to lift his head from the ground when he fell. He had come to depend on that hated skin, he believed, for his very life.
She talked to him and told him that there was another way to replace that skin with a softer one, which would give him more support, but which could be removed a little at a time as his strength grew.
If he chose this new skin, it would give him time to develope the belief in his strength he knew was there. But he had been held rigid for so long...that he did not have the conviction.
She told him her desire was to see him free and happy. the new skin would replace the old one and together, they would decide how and when to remove the pieces of the new skin, as the areas underneath were understood to be strong.
He had always been in control as the "safe space" yet desired to not be in control, a control which had always controlled him and would not volentarily let him go.
He needed someone who could take the load of responsibility and decision from him. Someone who would understand his current need to be seen as strong on the outside. Some one to provide a safe space where he was not allowed to be in control. Where he could safely strip away the facade of strength he presents to the world and be the soft, passionate man that he is, but isn't allowed to be.
He needed a place to explore his self, explore his wants and needs, where his fantasies of not having to be strong were a reality. Where someone would "control" him with a strong gentle hand and a loving heart, until he understood that his "soft" side was in fact, stronger and tougher than his "strong" side.
She explained to him that relationships grow and evolve, as do all living things, and that any relationship which did not grow, was doomed to wither and die.
She told him that when relationships were open and honest from BOTH sides, they always florished. they took on a life of their own, and supported and nourished their creators. They became stronger with age and maturity, but the shape they took came naturally and could not be pre-determined. They might look like a pair of intertwined rose bushes, so interlaced, that you could not tell where one started, and the other began, or a pair of stately Oaks, standing side by side, with their crowns touching, and creating a special space around them.
She understood how hard it was to let go of the "safety of being in control" and that "being in control" was an insideous monster because reguardless of how much control you had, it was never enough.
So, she bound his body gentely from the top of his head, to the soles of his feet, and the skin which he passionately hated and loved for the sense of security, it seemed to give, that had imprisoned him for so long, gradually disolved away.
He was still bound, but the bindings were soft and placed with loving care and he knew they were there to support him, not confine him. He now knew that the being bound could open the doors and create a sense of freedom, or be a space of fear, darknees, and pain.
He discovered that control, and Being in control were two different things. "control" could be as soft as a kitten, or as hard as diamonds as the need arose and that "being in control" was like an egg, hard, and brittle on the outside..easily damaged, with nothing solid on the inside for support.
He discovered that his fears of not being enough were just that... fears. with no substance or validity.
He learned that the bonds that now held him were soft and gentle, and were not bonds at all....
They were a soft shimmering cloak, that clothed his strength, his softness... and his love.
