I have one sister.
We are currently not talking.
AND this is a family pattern.
And no one really talks about it – not really anyways. We all just kind of float through life with the sense that we are OK. That somehow this brokenness is normal – every family has it.
And perhaps they do – I just always have felt there was a better way.
It also occurred to me that the more no one speaks about it – the more entangled it becomes. Its like there is this web of hurt and brokenness so thick that no one really knows how we got here.
I am not sure anyone is certain why we were hurt in the first place.
Sometimes it is easier to allow the web to remain than to entangle its knots.
And unfortunately, my sister and I just got caught in the web.
I remember saying to her some time back lets stop the family pattern of sibling disconnect.
Yet, here we are knee deep in the pattern.
Family patterns are hard. They are almost subconscious in a way. A pattern begins. People adopt the pattern. AND the cycle continues. It is like family patterns become normal ways of life. We all play a part.
My part: I am sensitive.
Like really sensitive.
Every word harsh or not that leaves my sister’s lips is measured from a deep place of sensitivity.
It is like I am waiting for her to hurt me.
It is like every move she makes I am looking for patterns of hurt.
I am certain she has felt like she lived on eggshells with me.
And the truth is she has been harsh with me. She has judged some of my decisions like parenting with a critical eye.
Which in turn it makes me more sensitive.
It is like this cycle of sensitivity and criticalness just keeps snowballing.
It causes me to meet her with harshness and hurt. In turn, she doubles down and pushes me away. In turn, I tell her I do not need her.
So, here we are. Not speaking. Doubled down. Both of us dying on the sword of rightness.
Generational pattern. Repeat.
And maybe this is where we will always live. Her on one mountain – I on the other with a vast cavern between us.
BUT if I am honest – vulnerable – I do not want to live on separate mountains.
I want to meet her in the cavern. In the place where I come down from my mountain and she from hers.
In the place where we can bring all of ourselves and just be.
In a place where I am no longer sensitive to her.
This is the only place where the pattern breaks.
I look at the generations that have gone before us and see the same mountains.
One sibling on the west mountains and the other on the east.
With a giant cavern in between.
Both mountains are unique. Both have different perspectives and personalities. Both have different things they want in their lives.
BUT the cavern. The place in the middle is where understanding happens. It is the place where each sibling can bring their mountain with them and accept the other for who they are.
The cavern is the place of healing. The place of rest.
We may never climb up on top of each other mountains but we can certainly make the trek down to the middle.
For in the middle is the only true space where unique siblings can live.
I do not know what the future of my family looks like – I just know only healing will happen in the cavern.
Acceptance happens in the cavern.
Love exists there.
My prayer is that one day my sister and I get to a space of living in that cavern together. I hope the generations before us are inspired to do the same.
For now, I wait on my mountain. I wait for the moment it is time to make the trek down with a willing heart to see my sister and her mountain.
For I am certain I can learn a lot from her mountain.
And I think that perhaps this is where most relationships go wrong. We keep trying to get people to come up to our mountain instead of meeting them in the cavern.
Relationships only flourish when we step off our mountain. It is the only space where true and real can exist.
Let’s be brave enough to step off – there is whole a vast world to discover in that cavern.
Until next time friends,