Protective Layer of Cope

I grew up knowing Jane Fonda to be a fitness tape guru and not much else. The desire to apologize for that ignorance is strong, strong indeed.

As I was flipping channels the other day, I caught her telling some of her story. Recollections of childhood gave my heart a familial ambience as she divulged both raw and dull emotion and dynamics from her past.

Magnetically, she lured me into her narrative and fascinated, I sat perfectly still, listening. As my decaf coffee sat untouched, growing colder phrase by painful phrase, she came to make a profound statement that has revolved and evolved in my mind ever since. It was this:

“We develop coping mechanisms to survive but we keep them longer than their shelf life and they become impediments.”

What once was a cloak wrapped around the heart to protect from the cold bite of pain, now becomes a lasting lacquer leaving no possibility for breath, in or out. Its impenetrable nature chokes life and love both from the host, and those in their midst.

Coping mechanisms are a necessary evil, in fact originating innocently and helpfully. Sometimes we must protect from harm. If we don’t, we might be obliterated in the process of relationship.

But the need to remove the cloak before it solidifies is urgent. If not destroy, at minimum we must keep it pliable, to be used only when necessary.

How do we accomplish this?

I wish I knew. For I fear this progression has already completed its task deep in my heart.

Can the barrier be fractured? I pray it may, letting the air of freedom and love seep in.

 

Amen.