CAPTAIN SAVE A CLIENT.
Why do we love giving advice? Why do we feel compelled to rescue instead of sitting with discomfort?
As a therapist and business consultant, I’m often presented with heavy amounts of grief, suffering, stress, worry and pain. Some days feel like an assault on my energy stores and others are refreshingly balanced. Rarely do people come to Fisk Solutions with an “all good here!” kind of day. That’s what I’ve built my business around–normalizing the struggle, calling out the pain, and offering a soothing and clear approach to relief. But as a fellow human with my own suffering, stress and worry, how was I found myself as part of the problem instead of the solution?
I love consistency and find that it’s through taking time to do some research that I’m able to build a rhythm. After a few especially brutal weeks strung together like a Michael McDonald album on repeat, I was crumbling. The pain that clients were bringing into session had started to feel like a million pounds on my shoulders. Instead of sitting with people and offering space for them to uncover their own solutions, I’d put on my Captain Save A Client vest (rainbow-colored, of course) and put the responsibility of everyone feeling better on my to do list. On top of that, I was subconsciously viewing their persistent pain as a personal failure. This carried over into my marriage and relationships with my children…each time they had needs that crossed my path, I hurried to extinguish their pain, which felt like fires that smoldered but never fully went out.
How could I catch a break? The answer was simple but not easy: do less.
People are capable of solving their own problems. They’re looking for a witness and validation while they fumble through the steps to walk back into the light. Like a fawn learning to walk or a model with too-high platform heels–it may be messy. But it’s through the journey that resilience is built to endure the rest of the struggles that life will inevitably offer.
This story of The Struggling Butterly highlights this concept:
As legend has it, a man walked out of his house one day and spied a huge cocoon in the bushes in his yard. Day after day, the man watched the cocoon, hoping for some sign of life. One morning, the cocoon finally started to move. The man looked on with delight as the butterfly struggled to break free. But after a long battle, the butterfly was still no closer to his goal. The man desperately wanted to help and swooped in to the rescue. With scissors in hand, the man cut open the cocoon and gently freed the butterfly into the sunlight of the beautiful morning. But, much to the man’s dismay, the butterfly emerged shriveled and misshapen. The wings were slightly deformed and the butterfly could only feebly crawl on the ground. The man was concerned but remained optimistic. Perhaps it took a few minutes for the butterfly to shake off the claustrophobic conditions of the cocoon? Unfortunately, the butterfly would never regain its form and fly. While the man had good intentions, taking matters into his own hands and setting the butterfly free was the worst thing he could have done. The very act of struggling against the cocoon walls pumped the blood and life into the butterfly’s wings. The greater the struggle, the stronger and more beautiful the wings would become. Without fighting that battle, the butterfly could never reach its potential. The butterfly actually needed that struggle in order to take flight. https://www.resilientworker.net/why-the-struggling-butterfly-matters/
By putting myself into a self-appointed role of Fixer, I’d not only burned myself out but also stolen the opportunity for clients to build their own processes by imposing mine upon them. The hardest part was when I realized that I was using this Fixer role to fuel my self-esteem AND building dependency on my quick ideas. My therapy style was more like Frank Lucas and his entourage of fur coats—dealing quick fixes and chasing highs rather than the steady, patient, curious Morgan Freeman that I aspire to be.
So if you’re noticing that you can’t catch a breath and you’re praying to not hear “I Keep Forgettin’” for the millionth day in a row, here a few quick tips to help you back away:
Notice changes in yourself. Take a few minutes each day to pay attention to where your thoughts are wandering. Other people? That’s a sign that you may be putting yourself in the way of their own journey.
Acknowledge the ego boost that comes from feeling like a fixer. What else do you need to fill your cup? Or maybe, what are you avoiding handling in your own life by focusing on others’ challenges?
Make an announcement. Small or large–let the people who’ve come to rely on your rapid response to their chaos know that you’re reprioritizing your own needs. Some folks may not be happy–but neither was the butterfly. Stepping back may be the greatest show of love and support.
