The Tensile Strength of Family or Becoming A Rubber Band Ball.

I recently read an amazing book, "Crazy for the Storm" by Norman Ollestad .   A memoir, it is the story of the pivotal turn in Norman's life--at age 11 he not only survived the plane crash that killed his father and two others, but he then had to climb, injured, down a treacherous mountain to reach help.  There are a lot of lessons, both little and big, in this story that make it worth reading, but the one thing that stuck with me was the idea of tensile strength--the idea that there is a maximum stress a material (a person, a realtionship, an organization or a community) can take without pulling apart or breaking. 

I'd been thinking about something along those lines for a while now--mostly because we see it all of the time--whether it is a bad relationship, a difficult client meeting or the earthquake in Haiti--but I hadn't figured out the language of what I was trying to say until this book help me put it into words and then apply it on a more personal level. 

For the past six or so years, our family, like many around the world, has had our tensile strength tested time and time again, each time seemingly extending the amount of stress we are able to take without ripping apart.  Our stress factor was an ongoing and connected combination of things--all of which manifested around our family's emotional center, my husband.  Illness, horrible chronic pain, addictions and the resulting 'side effects' of fear, debt, anger and so on.  The critical stress factor of addiction is gone now, for over three years, the resulting issues of debt, anger and resentment have been, we're proud to say, worked through successfully.  And, because we learned to and because the chronic illness and pain are still present, we are always working to ensure that our tensile strength  is equal to our current needs.  And for the past six or so years, that is where I thought my focus should be, on ensuring our tensile strength was enough for us to face anything life threw at us. 

Oh, so, so, very wrong.

What I've recently had to face is that our tensile strength isn't our weak spot--it's not what I have to worry about.  Rather, it is the slack moments of rebound, when life is wiggly and uncertain...The moments before the next step puts you on solid ground.  The moments you think you are the safest because the 'hard' stuff is in the past. These are the moments that scare me the most--and are when I'm at my worst. Because instead of being thoughtful about what we should do in this moment right NOW, I'm always looking too far forward, aniticpating the next, hard thing we need to get through. 

And there is the heart of the issue:  I've set myself up as the fixer--the only one with the tensile strength. I do this because here is how I currently think:  If there is nothing to fix, then what is my purpose?  I have been living as if my only purpose is the happiness and well-being of three other people--which if I was Mother Theresa would be laudable and honest.  But I'm not Mother Theresa and so this set up doesn't really work for anyone--and here are five reasons why:

1. It's not conducive to raising confident and capable children.
2. It's not conducive to a fully realized life for me. 
3. It's not conducive to a mutually satisfying partnership. 
4. It sucks to always be placed as the fixee/It's arrogant to always be the fixer. 
5. My initial premise that we as a family unit have a tensile strength is incorrect.  The reality is that I have a tensile strength and they each have their own different tensile strength.  That we've survived as a unit, is, well, surprising. 

What have I learned?  Here is a simple visual for those of you who need them like me: 

An individual tensile strength is like a single rubber band--it has only itself to rely on.  Which is fine, until it breaks.

A collectives' strength is like one of those cool rubber band balls you get for your kids teacher every fall.  In the rubber band ball each singular rubber band lends its strength to the whole--so even if one breaks, the ball itself still exists, still works. 

And so this what it boils down to for me-and where my focus needs to be--on working towards the rest of my life being spent as part of a big rubber band ball.  

A very colorful, very fun, very bouncy and ultimately very long lasting rubber band ball.