The Wrong Medicine
How can we tell the difference between what heals us and what harms us?
I got myself into a tangle so jumbled that I couldn’t work out what were my legs and what were my arms.
The tangle was not about something important. I was not deciding whether or not I should change my career or leave my marriage. I was full of distress about whether or not I should continue to do some training. Nobody was asking me to do this training. Nobody cared! But here I was, with my to-ing and fro-ing consuming precious time and energy, blinded by a fug of confusion.
Months ago, after flipping back and forth, I had finally decided to go ahead and sign up - to go all in. Here I was, over half-way through the schedule, and I was still an ambivalent mess.
A thought arose like a hollow something bobbing to the surface of water: this tangle was hurting me. I left the three-hour Zoom training session early, took the dogs up to the park at the top of town, and vowed not to return. I felt a great whoosh of relief.
It was the wrong medicine. At the time, this was the closest I could get to an explanation for my entanglement. But why? How do we decide between what is good medicine for us, and what is actually harming us? And what did I learn that will help you with your own entanglements, whether that is a relationship, a job, a creative dilemma, a tricky decision, or anything else that has you in its jaws?
Usually, discerning whether a medicine is good or bad is not a problem. A new book feeds us a fresh and tasty morsel every few pages. Our new colleague asks us out for a coffee and our internal ‘no’ is as clear as a bell. We feel the massage therapist teasing out long-held knots, and our body smiles.
I realised that this course had got me like a fish on a hook because there was something I thought I could get from it. It was a confusing mixture of want and ought. Was it my hunger for the attention of clever men? Did I want to hear the sparkling wisdom that would release me from all doubt? Was I trying to educate myself into total invulnerability?
Whatever it was, these parts of me were desperate - and they thought they’d found a spoonful of the stuff that would stop the ache. Instead, the stuff was causing aches in new places. The spoon held some medicine, sure enough, but it also contained anti-medicine.
Was the medicine bad, or was it my own body that was failing to metabolize it? Was the failure of healing solely my responsibility? I have spent some time wondering about this. I discussed it with a fellow course participant, and there was commonality in our experience of the community that has formed around the teacher. We guessed at the shadow - something about the teachings that led to a surfeit of chaos, and to a disconnection from what is ordinary, tangible and reliable. I didn’t feel oriented, inspired, or safe. Maybe this was the aim of the training, and maybe not. Maybe this was how others experienced it, and maybe it was not.
In the end, it doesn’t matter - because it was MY body that was taking the medicine and making the decision. My body decided to spit it out, and that was right for me.
Spitting this training out has also helped me to become clearer about the medicine I do need at this particular point in my life - as I am shaking ambition loose, finding my NO and looking forwards to gentle deepenings rather than energy-intensive expandings. I have found that wisdom in the books of
and (so precious!) and in my daily Earth prayers. I have found that in Sunday afternoon naps and in my support group of (mostly non-male) Buddhist teachers. I have found that in writing this piece for you.What helped me to come to this conclusion, and what might help you in your own determinations about whether you should take more of your medicine or less? Whether you should stay or go? Whether you should say ‘yes go on then’ or ‘NO MORE’?
Patience with myself and with the process. I wanted to rush to a conclusion, because not-knowing is uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to waste time dithering. I think now that I needed to dither - to taste the complexity of the dilemma, to get to know the different parts of me involved, and to feel enough pain to allow me to let go. Your process will have its own logic and it will also unfold in its own time, however frustrating that may be.
Acknowledging of the strong polarisation. If we are caught in a relationship or a job or anything else, there will be parts1 clinging on as well as parts wanting to push away. The more we can get to know these different parts, the easier it will be to uncover their motivations, offer them empathy and understanding, and eventually find a solution that they’ll all be willing to sign up to.
Trusting myself. I had an intuition that it wasn’t the right course for me before I even applied, but the desperate parts of me took charge. Once I’d made the decision to leave, it felt right in my bones. There is a knowing, underneath all our different parts and their motivations.
Being kind to myself. A few times I felt annoyed at myself and my indecision - about the Big Deal I was making of this silly thing - but mostly I remembered to be kind. I trust that there are always good reasons for our machinations, whether or not we ever fully understand them. I was doing the best I can. Speaking to a patient and sympathetic friend (thanks
!) also helped a lot.More patience. Keep going! 🤍
I’m grateful to have been through the process of becoming entangled with this course, and of finally cutting myself free. Maybe this is what I paid my course fee for - to learn a deeper trust of myself. To see that I know what I need. To remember that I am already enough.
You are too.
Go gently,
Satya <3
Tell me: What small or large things are you entangled in at the moment? How much do you know about the polarised forces pushing you forwards or pulling you back? What are you most afraid of? What do you most hope for? How might you use my list above to go more gently?
PS on a similar theme my Gentle Buddhism piece this week was about having lived with an alcoholic and being a ‘bombu being’ - you can read it here.
PPS when I return in two weeks I’m starting a new series on how to worry less, starting with ‘everything’ and moving onto topics like meaning, our weight, success, money, relationships & more. I’m looking forward to it & I hope you & your worrying parts will join me! ✨
Parts = Internal Family Systems
Dear Satya, I want to thank you so much for sharing the work of Josie George a few weeks back, and then Tanya Shadrick also. I've since read both their memoirs and am so stunned by them both, and by how much they resonate, that I feel slightly dizzy, Closing the books is like coming out of a spell, but one where I'm brought more fully back to myself. What a gift, thank you!
And I continue to be so moved by your work. The wrong medicine is a great phrase for your dilemma here. And I don't know what magic is at work here, but your posts so often nail EXACTLY something I'm sitting with or noticing. Your writing and your helpful prompts are like a balm then.
In answer to your invitation: I'm currently struggling with what is really a delicious problem to have, but my body is having problems containing! I recently decided to take an unpaid sabbatical, to focus on my writing and my dharma practice. My writing has been lit up by a book & course run by Cathy Rentzenbrink, another kindred spirit (if you don't know her, I think you'd love her). And oh my goodness, I can't stop. The writing is streaming out of me. Honestly, in 50-odd years of trying to engage in a healthy way with my writing practice, it has never been like this. And also - I've just come across a job, that is probably mine if I want it. It feels just a bit too soon. There are polarised forces pushing me towards the financial security and oh, the shiny! The status etc etc etc etc (it's in academia, it's a subject very meaningful to me - it's about stories! And mental health!) And also, just as strongly this time, the forces pushing me towards my own creative practice. How much do I absolutely refuse to abandon that again, because of overwork and exhaustion?! Is this just one of those times where you make a creative decision and then life throws you a great big bauble to test your faith, you warrior spirit?!
I want this resolved, now. My body is fizzing. And your questions are helping me to take deep breaths, to get more information, to slow down. And to listen to all the parts of me that want both things. Might I be able to do both, without it destroying me or (more likely) my connection with my own creativity? Without giving up my own naps on Sunday afternoons and time at dusk to stitch things, slowly? I need to breeeaaathe with your questions some more.
Thank you!! As ever, your writing has found me just when I needed it.
Here's to 'gentle deepenings rather than energy-intensive expandings' (YES!)
XXXX
Just to say thank you. This spoke deeply to me. I have no words to share, because they are deep, yet I just want to say THANK YOU.
THANK YOU