Untamed - Glennon Doyle Page 0,42
child. Now, three years after the divorce, Tish is no longer in hiding, on constant lookout for danger up ahead. The worst came, and she survived. She is a little girl who no longer has to avoid the fires of life, because she has learned that she is fireproof. Only people who stand in the fire can know that. That is the one thing I need my children to know about themselves: Nothing will destroy them. So I do not want to protect them from life’s fires; I want to point them toward the fire and say, “I see your fear, and it’s big. I also see your courage, and it’s bigger. We can do hard things, baby. We are fireproof.”
If I could do it again, I’d toss out the sign I once hung on Tish’s nursery wall that read: “Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright.” I’d replace it with Buechner’s “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
* * *
Since I don’t believe in lying to Tish anymore, I’ve been brainstorming simple ways to adjust my nightly vow to her and make it true. It’s been tricky. For example, I could tuck her in, smile at her, and say, “Lights out, honey. You’re definitely gonna lose me.” But that’s a bridge too far, perhaps.
Here’s where I’ve landed. Here’s the promise and hope I have for Tish, for myself, for all of us:
“Good night, baby. You’re never gonna lose you.”
I am lying on the couch, enjoying my favorite pastime, which is watching very bad television. I have been sober for eighteen years, and during that time every single one of my painkillers has been taken from me. I no longer drink, do drugs, binge and purge, snark incessantly, or even shop compulsively (often). But I can promise this: They will take Bravo and HGTV from my cold, dead hands.
An intriguing televised situation unfolds in front of me. The host of the show I am watching is a rugged, outdoorsy-type man. He has gone out into the woods by himself. He seems to have done this on purpose, so right away I understand that he is very strange. The man gets himself lost in these woods. I do not know why he didn’t see this lostness coming, but he seems surprised, so I feel worried. There appears to be no rescue in sight. There appears to be nothing in sight, except for various animals and plants and mud and other natural things that are perhaps typical of the woods. I can’t be certain because I’ve never been in the woods since woods are not for people.
Our Survivorman has not eaten for days. He is also out of water. My superpower is empathy, which means that I am often unable to distinguish between what is happening to other people and what is happening to me. So, when my wife walks into the family room, she finds me curled up in a ball beneath a blanket, slowly dying from malnutrition and thirst.
She raises her eyebrows. “You okay, honey?”
I say, “No. Look at this. I think he’s going to die. He is lost in the woods, and he is starving. I really don’t see how we’re going to get out of this one.”
My wife says, “Okay, babe. Remember what we talked about. How reality TV works is: If you are seeing it here, there has to be a camera crew there. Which means there’s also likely a protein bar available. He is definitely going to be okay, honey.”
I am grateful for this reminder, as it allows me to come out from under my blanket and watch the rest of the show with some boundaries. Boundaries are just what I need in order to take in the lesson Fraudulent Survivorman is about to teach me.
He says that when someone is lost in the woods, the main objective is to get found. The best way to get found is to stay in one place. Unfortunately, if one is lost in the woods, she cannot stay in one place, because she has to go out and try to find food and supplies to survive.
What I am gathering is that in order to survive, a lost person must:
Stay in the same place; and
Not stay in the same place.
Uh-huh. This is why the woods are not for people, I think. I keep listening.
Fraudulent Survivorman has a solution. He says the most effective strategy that a lost person