Deep Medicine or Slimy Mess
Appropriate title for a blog written by a good friend, Corinna Wood. She is known for her earth wisdom so I’m guessing this is about pulling something up from the ground. Instantly I was inspired to write about what this. What this could mean when thinking about relationships.
A lot of the struggle people have when trying to communicate (difficult) things with each other is the meaning they make of what they hear. Our discussions are rushed. We rarely take the time to slow down and hear each other. Really dig in to what the other person means when they are speaking. It’s real-time empathy. A lost skill. You forget that the meaning you make is unique to you based on the filters you developed over the years. You forget that that meaning your partner makes is unique to them based on their own history. We are so interested in them hearing us that we forget to even try to hear them. This leads to confusion, resentment, frustration, anger often to all involved. This kind of relating can last for years. It’s not pretty. You might even call it a slimy mess.
I take my inspiration from the compost bin. What I think is a slimy mess is like gold to the worms. The more slimy the lettuce the more delectable it is for them. I’ll hold my nose, throw it in the bin and just a few moths later, I (they) have created the most wonderful soil, filled with all kinds of medicine for my depleted soil.
Can you use your own messy relationship situation as deep medicine for your own (and likely your partner’s) healing? Absolutely!
I have witnessed some miracles.
Just like with composting, all it takes is a bit of attention, a few of the right components, and time.
Many of you may know that I switched my career years ago. For many reasons. One was that I found that when implementing or applying the wisdom and skills of Nonviolent Communication (and maybe a few other supportive bodies of work), it actually works. Even always works.
The skills are simple. Practicing them takes effort. If you follow the process and repeat over and over, you will be able to turn your relationship mess into nourishment for you both —and those around you who your relationship impacts. It becomes rich soil for all.
Witnessing folks shift their struggles into celebrations is my medicine. I delight in what can be if we just take a minute and remember that we care about and for each other. That we all take responsibility for our experience and share it with others in a way that that invites curiosity. That we support those who aren’t able to do that just yet, by asking the questions that invites them to see themselves as whole and good and worthy of love —offering them the possibility of finding enough strength and confidence to share their tender hearts.
Perhaps you have read the science which uncovered how trees communicate with each other to thrive: “Since Darwin, we have generally thought of trees as striving, disconnected loners, competing for water, nutrients and sunlight, with the winners shading out the losers and sucking them dry. There is now a substantial body of scientific evidence that refutes that idea. It shows instead that trees of the same species are communal, and will often form alliances with trees of other species. Forest trees have evolved to live in cooperative, interdependent relationships, maintained by communication and a collective intelligence.” [Read more about this in the book The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate—Discoveries From a Secret World by Peter Wohlleben]
Being committed and working toward a relationship where everyone involved is looking out for each other, to meet everyone’s needs, is medicine for those involved and medicine for the world at large.
Just like with trees, and just like with the worms, turning a slimy mess into good medicine is our true nature.