circles
By Tiffany Winn Rueckert, Staff Contributor
A stunningly simple protocol for anyone who loves and cares for anyone else.
Since my father's health began rapidly declining over a year ago as a result of complications with his stage 4 melanoma treatment, I have been the recipient of an infinite amount of kindnesses. Our whole family has felt tremendous support. It really has been miraculous to witness. I could write a whole book of kindness stories for you, penned with my sobbing grateful tears. Really.
I have learned a lot watching how things have worked in relation to my ill father. I read the following analogy on a blog a while ago and it really resonated with me. Since having read it, I keep this analogy at quick reference for those times when I find myself working in new circles of support or trying to help others navigate the waters of supporting loved ones.
The more I think about it and apply this analogy to experiences that I have had, the more I see its brilliance. I would like to share it with you. This was written by a mother in England affected by cancer.
"Ask yourself honestly where you sit in my world. I think of it like a spiral. In the middle is me, the person with incurable cancer. In the next circle out is our little foursome of a family. Sort of in the same bracket, but sort of not, are the rest of the family – mine and Billy’s. Outside that, a handful of our dearest friends, god-parents to our children, best men and so on. Outside that – and this is a big, blurry, happy set of categories – others whom I love, but who are one degree removed: colleagues. Old friends from work, uni or school. Aunts and uncles. Outside that, people I know, but I’m not properly in touch with: former house-mates. Friend’s other halves. Billy’s colleagues. An old boss. Ex-boyfriends. School-gate mums. And so on, until you get to the world at large. Where you sit in these circles defines how you behave. Then, the rule is simple: you provide only support to those closer to the centre than you. And you expect support from those further out than you. So, to put it bluntly, you can only emotionally dump on people in circles further out than your own. I’m not averse to being wept on (it makes me feel special and a bit saintly) but in general, save your tears. Hold it together, and weep on someone outside your circle. And think about what you can do – practically, emotionally or otherwise – to support someone closer to the epicentre. It doesn’t have to be me. It can be Billy, my Mom, my sister, my best friend. Anyway, this is a powerful and important rule and I suspect you will find it applicable to almost any family crisis you find yourself involved in, whether you are rocked by the blast yourself or just dazed by distant aftershocks."
Beautiful right?? It's important to note that at some points in the journey there may come a time when the outer circles need to be put on pause while the workings of the inner circles become quiet and intimate. You can be assured that the center has benefited greatly from all the activity of the concentrated efforts of their network but there might come a point where the world needs to stop for a moment. or two. or 500. We in the outer rings can't be offended by this. I remember very clearly sitting by myself in a dark hospital room in the earliest hours of day holding my fathers hand, listening to the beeps of the machines and the rise and fall of my father's chest. I didn't need one other person at that moment. And I'm willing to bet my father didn't need anyone either. But a few days later I needed support. And my circles were set in motion again. And I benefited greatly.
I loved the reminder that the job of the inner circles and the center is not to comfort and support the outer circles. The center needs to have the least amount of worries and responsibilities and demands on them as possible. My mom and I were discussing this the other night when she was explaining to me how difficult it is for her to not express her frustrations and discouragements with my father. Reviewing the analogy she is right, it isn't her place to turn to my Dad to vent and tell him how difficult things are. Mom needs to turn to her outer circles. That is where I am for her. That is where Dave is for me and so on. And I, in turn, can't vent to my mother about the stress of my situation. I am here to support her, the primary caregiver in any way I can. And I take care of her so that she can take care of my father.
I just love this imagery. It makes so much sense to me.
Remember that doing something is always always better than nothing. We shouldn't be afraid to reach in. I have found myself paralyzed often, not knowing how to react in a given circle. The center needs to know of your love and concern. Don't be afraid. I have found it helpful if the center and innermost circles create a point of contact which can field questions and direct all the incoming support so that the center isn't dealing with it all. That way I can contact them and get a feel for how I can help. The answer might be "They could really use someone at their side right now" or it could be "they need some space, and I'll let you know when they are ready for a visit". When the circles do become intimate, you can still show your love from a distance through small acts like cards and messages and distant gestures that can be accessed at the times the center feels ready. Sometimes the greatest act you can do is to take good care of yourself and others in the circles so that the center can rest assured knowing that all of their radiating loved ones are healthy, strong and functioning—and at the ready for when it's time again for the outer circles to work on their behalf.
I have learned a lot watching how things have worked in relation to my ill father. I read the following analogy on a blog a while ago and it really resonated with me. Since having read it, I keep this analogy at quick reference for those times when I find myself working in new circles of support or trying to help others navigate the waters of supporting loved ones.
The more I think about it and apply this analogy to experiences that I have had, the more I see its brilliance. I would like to share it with you. This was written by a mother in England affected by cancer.
"Ask yourself honestly where you sit in my world. I think of it like a spiral. In the middle is me, the person with incurable cancer. In the next circle out is our little foursome of a family. Sort of in the same bracket, but sort of not, are the rest of the family – mine and Billy’s. Outside that, a handful of our dearest friends, god-parents to our children, best men and so on. Outside that – and this is a big, blurry, happy set of categories – others whom I love, but who are one degree removed: colleagues. Old friends from work, uni or school. Aunts and uncles. Outside that, people I know, but I’m not properly in touch with: former house-mates. Friend’s other halves. Billy’s colleagues. An old boss. Ex-boyfriends. School-gate mums. And so on, until you get to the world at large. Where you sit in these circles defines how you behave. Then, the rule is simple: you provide only support to those closer to the centre than you. And you expect support from those further out than you. So, to put it bluntly, you can only emotionally dump on people in circles further out than your own. I’m not averse to being wept on (it makes me feel special and a bit saintly) but in general, save your tears. Hold it together, and weep on someone outside your circle. And think about what you can do – practically, emotionally or otherwise – to support someone closer to the epicentre. It doesn’t have to be me. It can be Billy, my Mom, my sister, my best friend. Anyway, this is a powerful and important rule and I suspect you will find it applicable to almost any family crisis you find yourself involved in, whether you are rocked by the blast yourself or just dazed by distant aftershocks."
Beautiful right?? It's important to note that at some points in the journey there may come a time when the outer circles need to be put on pause while the workings of the inner circles become quiet and intimate. You can be assured that the center has benefited greatly from all the activity of the concentrated efforts of their network but there might come a point where the world needs to stop for a moment. or two. or 500. We in the outer rings can't be offended by this. I remember very clearly sitting by myself in a dark hospital room in the earliest hours of day holding my fathers hand, listening to the beeps of the machines and the rise and fall of my father's chest. I didn't need one other person at that moment. And I'm willing to bet my father didn't need anyone either. But a few days later I needed support. And my circles were set in motion again. And I benefited greatly.
I loved the reminder that the job of the inner circles and the center is not to comfort and support the outer circles. The center needs to have the least amount of worries and responsibilities and demands on them as possible. My mom and I were discussing this the other night when she was explaining to me how difficult it is for her to not express her frustrations and discouragements with my father. Reviewing the analogy she is right, it isn't her place to turn to my Dad to vent and tell him how difficult things are. Mom needs to turn to her outer circles. That is where I am for her. That is where Dave is for me and so on. And I, in turn, can't vent to my mother about the stress of my situation. I am here to support her, the primary caregiver in any way I can. And I take care of her so that she can take care of my father.
I just love this imagery. It makes so much sense to me.
Remember that doing something is always always better than nothing. We shouldn't be afraid to reach in. I have found myself paralyzed often, not knowing how to react in a given circle. The center needs to know of your love and concern. Don't be afraid. I have found it helpful if the center and innermost circles create a point of contact which can field questions and direct all the incoming support so that the center isn't dealing with it all. That way I can contact them and get a feel for how I can help. The answer might be "They could really use someone at their side right now" or it could be "they need some space, and I'll let you know when they are ready for a visit". When the circles do become intimate, you can still show your love from a distance through small acts like cards and messages and distant gestures that can be accessed at the times the center feels ready. Sometimes the greatest act you can do is to take good care of yourself and others in the circles so that the center can rest assured knowing that all of their radiating loved ones are healthy, strong and functioning—and at the ready for when it's time again for the outer circles to work on their behalf.
(This picture I took in the hospital last fall was a perfect visual. One of my mother's
closest friends supporting Mom as she is supporting Dad. We have been
blessed by so many. Thank you so much. We love you circles!!!!)
closest friends supporting Mom as she is supporting Dad. We have been
blessed by so many. Thank you so much. We love you circles!!!!)
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