LEAN ON ME, WHEN YOU’RE NOT STRONG.
Those of my venerability might remember the Bill Withers song. Withers voice was soft and strong and had such a rich timbre, you could feel the arms of his soul reaching out. Or perhaps it was his “Grandma’s Hands”, another song about the lineage of being held with loving kindness. Yet, Bill’s kindness was not syrupy or sentimental. It was strong. Then, of course Ringo’s masterpiece, “Octopus’ Garden” was about how octopi attract and protect their mates by surrounding themselves with reflecting sea trinkets in a garden. For Ringo, who had grown up with poverty and illness, the song was about escaping a world of pressure to an undersea sanctuary of kindness and peace.
In the 90’s Veruca Salt had a song titled “Eight Arms To Hold You” which was the working title of the Beatles second film “Help” adapted from a line in the song “From Me To You”. There was little sentimental about Veruca Salt, who were direct descendants of the Riot Grrrls. Yet, the strength and ferocity of their music had the power of holding you as the world came crashing around. Kindness is strength. Caring is powerful. And compassion may be the bravest we can be. Compassion not only supports those we hold, but ourselves as well. We are empowered by the strength we feel as we are steadfast for those who need us. There has been no greater feeling in my life than when I have been there for someone I loved.
Although, I frequently did mess that up by laboring over what I should do, or what I might say. Making it about myself. We’ve all done this. We let our pride and self-interest distance ourselves from the simple act of holding another. When a frightened child comes into their mother’s room at night, they don’t need to be schooled in logic. They don’t need to be told their fears are misplaced. They need to be held. They need the strong arms of someone who loves them despite their fear. And when the fear subsides, they might need to walk back to their room. Loving arms know when to hold and when to let go. That is why the Buddhist teachings say that true compassion is a balance of wisdom and caring. In Vajrayana Buddhism we refer to the appropriate relationship to the teacher as “mogu”, which translates to longing and respect. Both ideas posit two conventionally counter-posed energies that create balance. In the former instance we have caring, which is our heart’s effort to hold another, combined with the wisdom to let go and create the distance we need to allow the other to grow. In the case of Mogu, we have the heart connection of love which is balanced by having the self-respect to not lose ourselves in that love. We also love our teacher but offer them the respect to protect their space and personal dignity. We respect our teachers by emulating their example as we grow into our own expression of dignity and strength.
Compassion is not co-dependence. True Compassion is strength.
When I was a boy my mother was young, beautiful and insecure. My father was away much of the time and during that time her life was unstable, chaotic, and chronically underfunded. Yet the love she held for her children was nonetheless unshakable. However, along with the strength of her love, her fear was also transmitted to us. Love and fear were her gifts. In the years that came my father’s career developed, and as it did our economic concerns lessened. And yet as he became successful he grew away from her. Insecurities changed but fear remained impactful on our lives. Children love swimming pools but pools don’t care for them. My mother’s love was ever present and yet her frightened loneliness was always there. Over time, her life became truly challenging. As if by some karmic plan she was forced from one insecure situation to another. And yet, it seemed her higher power had guided her to greater strength and independence. To her credit, my mother never became bitter or vindictive. And in time, she gained great power. She was a vessel of her belief and a loving support to her children, but also her world. I was always welcome in any of her humble homes. They always become our home. Even as she had less material comfort than before the divorce, and even as her insecurities had, in many ways, come to fruition, my mother gained a spiritual strength that was an inspiration to all who knew her. She went from being a fire that offered love and pain to becoming to the earth itself, stable, loving and true.
Like any mammal, we humans feel more than we think. We think we know, but what we know is informed by how the instinctive way we feel about them. feel a We feel love and we feel fear. And though our lower instincts drive us to self-protective, defensive acquisition, materialism does not calm our deepest fear and anything we achieve is never as healing to our spirit as being held in the arms of love. And nothing that strengthens us as much as leaving those arms to stand on our own. But the greatest expression of love may be when we share our strength with those who need us. Inside, no matter what we achieve for ourselves, we all yearn for the strength of a mother tigress resting with her pride. Or an octopus arranging its garden of sea glass for its bride. Or a fawn looking to its mother for guidance, protection, and love. When a newborn looks to a parent who loves them there is an energy exchange that is a transmission of one of the strongest forces in our world. But that love heals the caregiver as it nurtures the child. We are strong enough to allow others in need to lean on us. Not collapse into us, or become dependent on us, but lean on us until we both become strong.
Holding others with our love is a love that holds the whole world.
