Going to ground....
We've recently had, at our house, a rerun of that old series I like to call Family Drama. It's not my favorite. The characters are all grown up now, not that you'd always know it. The "situations" are no longer cute, nor are they easily resolved. They can be frustrating, anger-evoking, and heartbreaking.
Whenever we have an episode of Family Drama, I have two strong impulses. One is retail therapy, at which I have become very skilled! With a potential job change in the household, however, retail therapy would be unwise.
The other impulse is withdrawal, or as my mom used to call it, "going to ground" -- perfect for me as an Enneagram type 9. If I can't make peace, solve the conflict, find the solution, or even get anyone to listen, I want to get the hell out of the way. Dive deep and let the wave break way, way over my head, so to speak. This is the cowardly way, and sometimes, I think, also the only sane response.
With the Serenity Prayer in mind, I was sitting in Starbucks this morning, imagining myself as a beaver, deep in his dam, or as a woodchuck in his burrow ... you get the idea. The Midget of Walden Pond. A creature of the deep woods. Actually the seashore would do as well. I could take a leave from my job, rent a little cottage (with indoor plumbing and electricity, thanks very much but I'll skip the primitive stuff), pack up the two hounds, and beat a full and inglorious retreat from the (occasional) heartbreak of family life.
What would I need? Some money. Dog food. Human food. Candles. Books (a carload). My craft projects. My journal, Prayer Book, and Bible. Oh, and clothes! Insect repellent. My camera.
A wifi connection? My iPad? My cell phone? OK, I see my tenuous resemblance to Thoreau going down the drain. But what to do when the peace of home has escaped, even only temporarily?
Maybe I can manage a (one-day) retreat ..... with the cell off.
Whenever we have an episode of Family Drama, I have two strong impulses. One is retail therapy, at which I have become very skilled! With a potential job change in the household, however, retail therapy would be unwise.
The other impulse is withdrawal, or as my mom used to call it, "going to ground" -- perfect for me as an Enneagram type 9. If I can't make peace, solve the conflict, find the solution, or even get anyone to listen, I want to get the hell out of the way. Dive deep and let the wave break way, way over my head, so to speak. This is the cowardly way, and sometimes, I think, also the only sane response.
With the Serenity Prayer in mind, I was sitting in Starbucks this morning, imagining myself as a beaver, deep in his dam, or as a woodchuck in his burrow ... you get the idea. The Midget of Walden Pond. A creature of the deep woods. Actually the seashore would do as well. I could take a leave from my job, rent a little cottage (with indoor plumbing and electricity, thanks very much but I'll skip the primitive stuff), pack up the two hounds, and beat a full and inglorious retreat from the (occasional) heartbreak of family life.
What would I need? Some money. Dog food. Human food. Candles. Books (a carload). My craft projects. My journal, Prayer Book, and Bible. Oh, and clothes! Insect repellent. My camera.
A wifi connection? My iPad? My cell phone? OK, I see my tenuous resemblance to Thoreau going down the drain. But what to do when the peace of home has escaped, even only temporarily?
Maybe I can manage a (one-day) retreat ..... with the cell off.
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