Fragmented

Someone once told me my plans for life were like a ball of wool. That my desires and difficulties were tricky to untangle, the strands stuck yet seeming to lead in multiple directions at once. He told me some of my ideas presented as small, others grandiose; that I was hard to pin down because I moved so fast and frequently changed my mind. These things, to him, indicated I didn’t know what I wanted and could maybe benefit from slowing, or sitting still a while. I saw his point; a lot of his insights were valid. But I knew too that the opposite of everything he said was true. And even if others cannot, I am able to hold my opposing truths at once. A core part of me smarted when this person intimated that my scattered thoughts and the ease with which I pivot were something to be fixed. It was his decision that bothered me, that my way of processing was inherently less valuable or effective because it was not linear. And, to be very granular about the feelings it evoked, his assumption about my ‘lack of direction’ gave me the sense of being circled by someone needing to tame me.

I’ll be straight with you, my processing can look batshit crazy at times (yes, I said it, crazy) but this doesn’t mean my ultimate desires are unclear. Even when the route is circular and I notice myself taking both planned and unplanned detours, there is always a lesson to be had on the way. I often have multiple circuits firing at once and if this therapist (yes, it was a therapist) had looked up from his theoretical text book, maybe that nuance might have been witnessed. There are so many ways of working therapeutically which respect and encourage the idea that we are all the sum of multiple parts. Whether working with Internal Family Systems (IFS), using Gestalt techniques or Neurolinguistic Programming (NLP), it is generally accepted that each part of self has its own motivations and agendas – ones that may, or may not, appear in conflict with the whole. Personally speaking, my various parts can be intelligent, fearful, brave, silly, just to name a few. Regardless of the feelings and thoughts that arrive with them, each has a role, a reason and, if permitted, a voice. There are no bad parts. None. The moment I felt this therapist steering toward correction rather than curiosity, many of those parts retreated and became unavailable to our conversation.

As a therapist and coach, I often hear long and winding stories about a person’s past and rarely are they linear or cohesive. There are often gaps in memory, periods of uncertainty, and difficulty piecing together the story of a life that has already happened. With this in mind, I personally do not expect complete clarity from people about life events that are yet to happen. A plan yes, but one that is flexible and afforded the freedom to change or be changed.   Clarity in life is beautiful, but for some it is a luxury item only gifted a few times in a life. Some of my best moments have emerged from the fog of not really knowing what the fuck I’m doing.

When we tell people they need to go more slowly or to tidy up mixed messages, we must be extremely sure of the intention behind our request. Are we seeking to help ground them in their own story, or ourselves when trying to understand it? The truth is, people do not always need grounding and definitely not on someone else’s timeline. Their exact speed and tussle with perspectives may be a crucial part of their processing strategy. Onlookers who see grandiosity may not understand the visioning tool an individual needs. What they judge as restlessness may be less a symptom of instability and more a signal required by that specific body that it has capacity for more, or must practise doing less. Yes, it is true that continual jumping from pillar to post can be a sign of deeper truths or fears being avoided, but one must not assume.

Outside of the widely accepted modalities mentioned above are other sources of information that can inform why a person moves through the world in the way they do. My client intake typically involves me studying at least one alternative modality, whether that’s their Human Design or energy makeup. I do this because so many factors are involved in the making of a person, and this is even before considering background, neurodivergence or trauma.

My point here is that some lives have a duality to them that cannot be pathologised. Some people must mentally rehearse multiple outcomes, experiences, perspectives. They must map a dream fully and express it, before deciding ‘no that’s the wrong one,’ or ‘oh, this is a distraction from fear’, or ‘yes this is great, but for in 5 years’ time’. There is no shame in this. There is space for confusion, for looping, for throwing the card deck onto the table and it not landing in a neat house immediately.