**Fair warning, some dark thoughts and topics may be included. Stop here if you're worried those might upset you. **
"The "bird that shares wings," known as the Jian in Chinese mythology, is a creature that cannot fly alone. It has one wing and one eye, and requires a mate to fly, as they must pair their single appendages to take flight. This mythological bird illustrates the concept of dependence and the beauty of cooperation. " - Google search for birds that can't fly without a partner.
A fascinating creature, seemingly flawed and worthless, yet it can only truly show its capability with a partner. I'm not familiar with the full mythology of the Jian, here I only wish to appreciate the well known feature of their lore.
I'm a single father with a small child. I often find myself overwhelmed and worn out, missing things left in right in my struggle to steer two boats at once. Made especially difficult when the owner of the other boat has no fear of capsizing, turning around, or running aground. Children, Gah! What terrible, frightening, fearless and yet loveable creatures.
Still, being the bumpers on the bowling alley lane can be weary. The ball bounces recklessly back and forth, and it's my job to make sure it stays out of the gutter. I often find myself overextended, forgetting to take care of myself and my needs while I push myself to do the best I can for my daughter. A catch 22, as pushing myself wears me out further, reducing the ability I have to properly keep that bowling ball from careening off the path.
That's.. who I am, though. Years ago, well before I had a child or even entered school, I put myself aside to care for those around me.
My memory is a little fuzzy around the time I was 5 years old... yet I remember the bird that flew into the glass door of our home. I was shocked by the noise, but quickly put that aside and found the nearest adult to beg them to fix the bird. My heart squeezed, and I felt deep sadness that day as I watched it slowly die.
Elementary school memories are a little clearer. I remember proudly declaring that my friends could always count on me, to come to me with their problems. Even those who I didn't know well, I would be there to listen. They would tell me their troubles, and I would give them a way to share the burden. Well, as much as a kiddo in school could, anyway.
Middle school was a bit rougher. I was not a happy child, and did not have a happy home. Still, the moment I felt one of my few friends needed someone to be there for them, I pushed my struggles aside and did my best to be that someone. Middle schoolers are dramatic as all heck, and problems certainly feel a lot bigger when you've only lived for 12 years. Most of those struggles seem laughable now, preferable in fact, compared to struggles of adulthood.
High school. Gosh, highschool was wild. I didn't go to parties, or hang out at the mall, or really do much with group gatherings. I had a few close friends, and I was okay with that. Still I would put away my own struggles and difficulties to listen to theirs, to give them solutions and support. I vividly remember being trapped in a supposed relationship with a girl who would on the daily threaten to give up on life. My grades dropped significantly, and I would sleep through the first half of classes every day.. because I was up for 4 to 8 hours every night doing my best to give this person the strength they needed to face another day. Eventually she did get the profressional help she needed, which is a relief for me. Some may find it strange that despite her sleeping with my best friend at the time during our supposed relationship, hearing that she got the help she needed to get her life together still gave me a sense of relief.
Adulthood. Good Golly, this one's a doozy. Clubs, aqauintences, coworkers, friends, family members. I would be there to listen, offer to listen, ask them what was on their mind when their behavior felt off. Always assuring them that they were no burden on me, that I wanted to help them. Even now when I sense someone feels off, I find it easy to gently approach and discretely ask them if they're okay.
It's who I am.
Yet there remains the catch 22. The more I extend myself to focus on others, the less I pay attention to myself. As I grew older I also grew to understand the need to take care of myself, to allow myself to be able to continue to do what comes naturally to me. I still struggle with this concept and I often forget that I need to care for myself specifically, more than a quick oil change and air in the tires.
-Struggling to pick this post back up so I'll call it part 1 and finish it later.