attachment

Coming Back to Home Base

Sometimes the path to connection, of coming back to yourself, is first noticing when you have needed space to breathe. We rush; we lose time; we put too much on our plate. We lose track of ourselves. Our self-care practices and rhythms get hard to maintain. And for whatever reason, it becomes clear, we know we have to step back.

Perhaps this change in season is a time for coming home.

We extend ourselves, we work hard, we give much. And then comes the need for coming back. For the long exhale, a slow and steady rhythm, a state of rest and recovery.

I hate disconnection…especially with myself. I am a nurturer. Relationships matter immensely to me. It is horribly painful when relationships are distant, broken, or unhealthy. I’ve learned, though, that the one relationship I will always have is with myself. If I’m not taking care of that, from what do I have to give?

Attachment language uses the concept of a secure home base. Knowing that you can always come home, to safety, to connection, to attunement. From that foundation, you learn that you can launch. It is the way we can become our best selves, to keep coming back.

Love is Not Enough

What is love? And how do you know when you feel loved? How injured do we feel when we don’t feel loved?

I have the opportunity to sit with people who are working hard to heal. There may be parts of themselves that are conflicted or tangled, or perhaps only buried and never known. I welcome and hold space with all the parts. I stay curious and compassionate. I give room for their autonomous self and join them in the discovery.

An amazing thing happens when we are seen, heard, understood, and felt. These attachment dynamics are so powerful that they have the ability to co-regulate us, calm our nervous system, and grow our stunted emotional parts back up.

It’s been said that being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person they are almost indistinguishable (David Augsburger).

So for us to love, it requires something of us. Simply stated, but not simply done, it takes work. Love asks us to be present, to hold space, to be safe enough to allow us to be known and, often, a response. We want to know we’ve been seen or understood. We want to know that what we’ve shared with others has resonated with them or impacted them enough that there can be a response. We’ve risked in sharing something of ourselves, so what will the other person do with what we shared with them?

Love alone, as a thought or a word, is not enough. To say “You are loved” is lacking the depth that is willing to engage to do the work of that connection. It keeps up a wall that doesn’t enter in. If we love someone, are we willing to back that up with our action? Are we willing to do the work it requires — to hear, to understand, to drop our defenses (when the relational space is safe enough to do so!) and to take steps toward someone or be responsive? It might mean having some intentional conversations that bring connection, depth, and understanding.

Embracing Our Humanity

Beautiful souls. Weary, broken, longing.

High hopes for what we wish for. Adjusting expectations. Sad disappointment.

Passionate division. Lack of hearing or understanding. Fear of other. Judgment.

Scared of pain. Facing where we’ve felt unresolved. Avoiding struggle.

Limits. Boundaries. Pacing. Pausing. Balanced protection.

Seeing new perspectives. Finding hope. Bright light, laughter, joy.

Connection. Relationships. Being found, seen, known, embraced.

Triggered. Flooded. Disconnection. Injury.

Grounding, finding footing, taking steps. Movement. Forward.

We need each other.

Trigger warning: Suicide Awareness

The essence of trauma is being afraid and being alone. Attachment trauma — being wounded in relationships that were supposed to keep us safe — leaves us feeling unseen, unheard, unwanted, misunderstood, rejected, abandoned. Trauma disconnects us.

It makes sense, then, that when someone feels disconnected, cut off, ostracized, or “othered,” the pain is beyond excruciating and the risk for suicide increases. We aren’t created to go through life (and our pain) alone.

Who are the marginalized, the anguished, the ones in our society who feel beyond reach? And what is the pathway back (or perhaps for the very first time) to connection?