Talk to the Hand: Detaching in Love

Co-dependency.  We’ve all slung that word around a time or two.  Lord knows it gets a really bad rap, too.  Truth be told, I struggle with the word and overall label.  Why?  Because I believe humans, by nature, are needy creatures.  Straight out of the womb, we wouldn’t make it very long without the nourishment and care of parents, guardians, and loving community.  I don’t think this is an accident.  I think it’s a beautiful model for the primal humility baked into our human expression.  It’s the purest version of vulnerability in my mind.  Survival requires connectedness in relationship.

And yet growth, maturity, and adulthood require a measure of responsibility and individuation in order to balance this developmental process, continue parenting ourselves and truly thrive.  This process is based on loving trust built with ourselves and others.

Sounds so easy, right?

In my experience, not so much.  It's a bit more complicated than earning a college degree, reading a flow chart, or getting a driver’s license.  This new-found responsibility of adulting—in essence, freedom—comes with all sorts of complicated emotions.  At the center of them is a deep, loud longing for acceptance—for love. 

Many of us learned early on exactly how to get this need for acceptance met by shape-shifting in order to please others.  If I do or say what makes you feel good, this in turn will give me entrance into that grand room of belonging.  Call it people-pleasing, call it co-dependency, call it whatever you want.  At its core, it’s really just dishonesty and manipulation.

I suppose here’s where I draw the line: we all have the God-given birthright to have needs and wants and get them met by asking for help.  When I feel lonely, I need to reach out and connect with safe people.  Again, being needy is a human thing not a weak thing.  However, when our internal well-being and sense of belonging is propped up by external circumstances, especially the agenda or approval of others, that line gets blurred real fast. 

When I’m feeling insecure, I tend to slip into this brand of co-dependency.  For example, I’ll do unnecessary damage control after having a difficult conversation or interaction with a friend.  Or there’s the classic over-explaining after I’ve set a healthy boundary for myself in order to soften the blow to someone else or bypass any possible friction.    

We tend to mistake this controlling behavior for care and kindness.  No dice.  Why?  Because it’s based in fear and scarcity.  Worrying, manipulating, and controlling behavior only hijacks another’s process, and in doing so, steals their opportunity for emotional exploration and growth.  Not only that, we basically assume a "God" role.  We buy into thinking, "It's all up to me to move the needle forward."  Last time I checked, God doesn’t need my expertise, no matter how well-intentioned. 

As we grow in self-awareness and compassion, letting go and detaching in love is crucial.  Though it seems counterintuitive and heartless, detachment is a deeply loving practice.   

How do we practice this?  What does that look like?  Yes, it’s coming.  

Stay tuned for next week’s installment.  We’re going to practically explore healthy detachment step by step.   

(See what I did there? 😉)

Love & Gratitude,

Katie     

More Than a Number

I first learned of the Enneagram in 2006. My boss at the time kept talking in numbers and I felt incredibly curious if not left out of some grand, who’s who party. She was convinced I was a two. What does that even mean? What’s a two? And why not a seven? Even numbers are boring! (Or so I thought.)

Whereas I had great respect and trust for this woman, deep down, I simply couldn’t
stomach the idea that I could be reduced to a number. This felt far too pedestrian,
or boxy for the likes of me. I didn’t know it then, but I soon learned, this was the first clue I was not in fact a two, but a four, the Romantic.

I left work that day and ordered the only book I knew on the subject, The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective, by Richard Rohr and Andreas Ebert. I devoured it like a marathon runner carb-loading before race day. It became something of a Bible and an oxygen tank for me.

I won’t lie. For the first couple of years, I was “that girl” who’d try to type you in the Starbucks line. I’m pretty sure my friends and family were ready to issue a restraining order if I mentioned those damn numbers one more time. For this dogmatic behavior, I do apologize.

Here’s the thing though. We are all zealots in love during the honeymoon phase. All we want to do is talk about this flawless person (or system in my case) that can do no wrong and smells amazing. However, I believe true love far outlasts the honeymoon phase, deepening and morphing into what comes to feel like home.

Fast forward 13 years. I’m still in love with the Enneagram. As a wife, mom-to-be, psychotherapist, writer, teacher, and dreamer, I can honestly say it’s the baseline I come back to for grounding and refreshment amidst a world spinning on its head. It reminds me who I really am before I put on all those other hats. It continuously, graciously, calls me home to the truth of who I am.

Here’s the catch though: If we stay fixated on the optics of our type—all those behavioral characteristics that name and explain us—and fail to apply it’s practical wisdom to our daily experience and relationships, we miss out on the transformational aspects of the Enneagram. It’s like saying “Sure, I’ve been to Paris!” When you’ve really only had a four-hour layover at Charles de Gaulle en route to Frankfurt. Sure, you saw the Eiffel Tower from your window seat coming in and scarfed down a day-old croissant at the gate, but you never truly got to savor the magic of the city. What a tease!

Are you looking to deepen your understanding of the Enneagram? Perhaps you know your type and want to put this new-found knowledge into practice. Good news, my friend, you’re in the right place.

This fall, I’m inviting you into some exciting experiences to do just that. In the meantime, I’d love to hear where you are on your Enneagram journey. Please feel free to hit reply to this email and share!


Love & Gratitude,

Katie

Great Expectations (or not)

Here we are.

This is not a throw away sentence. It’s perhaps the most profound reminder we’ve got.

We will never ever experience the present moment ever again. It’s gone in a heartbeat and yet is the only sure thing we ever really touch—presence, being, the here and now.

If you’re like me, presence becomes harder and harder to fully grasp in seasons of waiting and anticipation. At nearly eight months pregnant, I’m struggling to stay in the moment and soak up these final days of life as a non-parent (read: sleep).

I’ve always felt summer can be a bit like the Holidays as it kicks up a whole host of unique demands and expectations, leaving me often anxious if not resentful. It’s tempting to compare my life to others I see magically splattered all over social media cavorting around far away places by fake looking bodies of water with glamorous wardrobes to boot. Hell, I haven’t even gotten in a pool all year long and feel more like a weary beached whale than an energetic summer explorer.

Where do these expectations even come from? My hunch is, they come from the stories we make up in our heads. Ah, those glorious narratives of certainty, guarantees, entitlement, essentially—suffering.

Last week we unpacked this idea that pain is inevitable while suffering is optional.

Why? Because suffering is the story we make up about our pain. “I should have a better job that lets me travel more.” “I should have a partner that enjoys doing the same things I do.” “I shouldn’t have to work so hard. After all, it’s summer and I deserve to relax and enjoy my time.”

Whereas these may be true, I don’t know how much progress we make changing our reality by playing the victim. In fact, there are no guarantees in this life. That said, keeping unrealistic expectations flush in our back pocket is a fast way to prevent abundance in our everyday experience.

As an Enneagram type four, I often struggle with this pervasive longing for what’s missing in the moment. For example, “Ah, the sunset is beautiful, but I wish it were a bit cooler so I could really enjoy it more.” I know. Gross.

This dangerous habit creates a crusty resentment which in turn drives away joy.

Because the struggle is so real for me, I created a little Expectation Inventory to keep me in check a few years back. I’ve come to wholeheartedly believe the pivotal moment in every unrealistic expectation is simple: gratitude. It tethers us in the here and now. It gently leads us back home to presence. Gratitude changes everything in an instant.

Today, I’m sharing my inventory with you. Keep it close and use like guard rails when you start to slip into resentment. Maybe, like me, they will keep you on track and reminded of what you do have as opposed to what you lack.

Expectation Inventory:

1. How do I feel right now?

2. What unrealistic expectations am I feeding into?

3. What is the payoff for having these expectations of myself or others?

4. What would it feel like if I were able to let go of these?

5. What do I need in order to let these expectations go?

6. What am I grateful for?

Enjoy…truly!

Love & Gratitude,
Katie

The Enneagram and what's right with you.

I turned forty last Monday. Surprisingly, it was painless, even…lovely!? I’ve been joking around with people who ask how it feels in saying, “It’s glorious. I feel like my age is finally catching up with my soul.” As an old soul since the womb, this really does feel accurate. I’ve always felt a kinship with those older than me. As a kid, I used to hang out for strangely long stretches at the dinner table to listen to conversation my parents would have with their dinner guests. They seemed far more interesting than the make-believe dialog happening in the playroom (although I did love to go there alone in my spare time). But if given the choice to linger at the adult table or play with barbies amongst the other youngsters, 11 times out of 10 I’d choose the first.

This balances out nicely when you’re a bit older and have the freedom to hang with whomever you choose, but in grade school and adolescence, it’s brutal. I perpetually felt misunderstood, alone, and longing for something deeper.

Enter Enneagram.

When I first discovered the Enneagram 13 years ago, I felt a massive wave of relief wash over me, explaining answers to angry questions I’d been asking God for a long time. Why did I do the things I did? How could I learn to make peace with the complex and often terrorizing crew of emotions always up loud? Could anyone explain the inadequacy and longing raging deep inside?

When I read about the character structure for the Enneagram type four, or Individualist, I quickly discovered the foreign language I’d been speaking all along was not what was wrong with me, but what was right with me. In fact, there were others who spoke this language and an entire road map dedicated to us who felt all the same feelings and needed all the same help. I wasn’t, in fact, underdressed and a day late to the ball. (God forbid ever showing up underdressed to a party. My Mama taught me better.)

The Enneagram has been so life-changing, I’ve spent over a decade immersed in self-study and formal training in order to better resource others who might also gain more self-awareness and transformation in their lives. I do take it seriously, and in doing so, have dedicated myself to being a lifelong student. After all, it’s no buzzy trend. It’s been around since the fourth century and is here to stay. I’m no expert, but have recently stepped into the roles of coach and teacher which are beyond thrilling for me.

As I enter this new season of life, I want to invite you to join me. We’ll be talking a bit more about Enneagram concepts here on the blog as well as in therapy and out in the community.

In just a few weeks, I’ll be introducing a monthly Enneagram opportunity for you as well as a free resource I’ve created for you on your unique journey.

I believe the Enneagram is much more than a personality test. It’s an open-ended invitation to the truest version of you. Now that’s a party I don’t want to miss.

It’s also a gentle and wise companion for your everyday experience.

Trust is built over time and baked in safety. We’ve come a long way together. I can’t wait to write this next chapter of the story together.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

Extreme much? Here's another way...

I remember sitting in my therapist’s office several years ago (probably twelve).  Gail was her name and she’s everything a brilliant therapist is in my mind: accepting, compassionate, wise, firm, seasoned by her own broken story, and the kind of listener that makes you feel like you’re the only soul on the planet. 

I was in the chapter of my life I refer to as the “falling” stage.  Everything around me seemed to be crumbling and my job was to let it do so against every ounce of my will.  She held the sacred space for that painful season to unfold.  At every break, she simply wanted to better understand me, not try to fix me.  Gail saw me.

Have you ever been in that frustrating place where the best and safest thing to do is NOT break the fall?  I’ve often heard this with surfing and skydiving, for example (two pastimes I have zero experience with). In my understanding, there are actual ways we must learn to fall—to lean into the plummet. 

Resisting with tension, grit, and that secret stash of Xanax bars you snaked from your mama’s medicine cabinet aren’t included.

Gail patiently taught me how to fall, over time.  Something she said to me one day, in the vortex of my despair was, “Katie, it doesn’t have to look a certain way.  You get to choose.” 

Those words stuck with me perhaps more than anything else she ever said.  Funny how that works isn’t it?  We usually remember much more poignantly how people make us feel, not necessarily what they say.  However, these are some of the few words still glued on.

Much of my struggle was existing in a world of extremes—all-or-nothing thinking—you know,  “either-or.”  Either I would be alone and depressed my whole life with little hope for anything or I’d be Miss Perfect: married with kids, a clear cut path forward, an enviable career, oh, and liked by all.

Looking back, I’m so grateful that zipped up idea of success stayed just that, an idea.  

Falling for me meant moving from this dualistic, binary brand of extremes and living into the open relief that life, in fact, didn’t have to look a certain way.  It could be the messy middle, or, the “both-and.” 

I could feel striking depression and understand that hope was available.  I could feel lonely, longing for relationship and community and know that it very well may look different in several weeks time.  I could long for certainty and lean into the unknown.  Richard Rohr calls it “holding creative tensions.” 

Holding the tension between a longing and its unmet fulfillment is indeed a creative, tight space.  It looks a whole lot like faith.

Does your extreme thinking feel exhausting?  Do you find yourself awfulizing situations by projecting worst-case scenarios onto perfectly neutral possibilities? If so, I feel you. It’s a relentless crapshoot. 

I believe that old way of “either-or” is how we learned as kids to make sense of the world growing up.  However, as adults that rigid mindset needs some revising.  What if we could practice a softer, more curious approach? 

Next time you get stuck in either-or thinking, simply notice it, honor it, and let it be.  Then ask yourself what you’re needing in the moment.  Is it hope, acceptance, a friend, time, or provision? 

Find the space in that very moment that allows for the lack as well as the possibility.  “I’m overwhelmed with deadlines, and, I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.” Or “I’m so angry with my friend and how she’s treating me, and, she may be really struggling right now.”  

Let’s lean into the contemplative, creative space that invites more possibility, yes?    

Love & Gratitude,
Katie