I have taken it upon myself for the last 27 years of my life, that it is my job to take care of this world.
The people, the animals—all of it.
I have run out of the ocean from surfing and split up dog fights.
Heard a woman in the jungle in a fight, and called the police.
I take it upon myself to see and care so incredibly deeply for the people close to me, and not close to me.
I have been an empath, a rescuer, a knight, a self sacrificing selfless rock of a human and found purpose in this.
I chose to date men that were fix em up projects, friends who needed me—because I needed to be needed and this fixing and saving gave me purpose.
I have finally turned it from an unhealthy hobby into one of the “what’s” of my business.
Now people show up at my door step, who are ready to make changes, asking for my feedback/space and I get paid to do it.
I sometimes still have urges to coach/help/support the people around me—from boyfriends, to family, to friends and it’s a constant battle to not play coach in the world around me.
I fell into that role recently–I began obsessing over a vice of somebody I was recently dating.
He dumbfounded would reply, “Janne, this isn’t an issue in my life. This doesn’t need fixing. I know myself, I know my past. It isn’t an issue.”
I was hell bent that it was, and that I was right.
I went as far as to say, “Give it up, or give me up.”
He gave it up, but was dumbfounded by my stubbornness that this was an issue in his life.
Then somebody else showed up in my stream with addictions, and my instinct was to be completely available.
To pick them up, coach them, offer them a room in my house.
They didn’t show up when I would go to pick them up.
“It won’t work. He needs to choose to change. Let him show up to ask.” I heard from people around me.
“But…” my big heart retorted.
So I decided to do something radical and follow their advice and detach.
Detach doesn’t mean not caring, it doesn’t mean not being available—it does mean creating some space in how we interact with the need we feel and see in this world.
Detach means understand that somebody else in the sky has got all of us.
Detach means trusting that it will work itself out, with or without me.
Detach means lovingly being available, without taking it personally if that person doesn’t want that.
I detached from saving this person, I detached from solving and rescuing and fixing the people around me.
I told the man I was dating that I didn’t care about the vice—that I trusted him to know his limits.
I told my friend that I was there if he needed me, and that I trusted him to ask me if he needed support.
A family member I had been pushing and trying to support during a career change—I backed off of and said, “I trust you to figure it out.”
I stopped being over involved and obsessive in the lives of those around me.
The next few weeks that followed, I had a lawyer give me his personal opinion on a document I needed drafted for 45 minutes.
I had people close to me voice opinions on me drinking milk, using air conditioning, who I was working with.
And I lost it—went into a place of “back off. Get the fuck off my back”.
Feeling defensive and angry that people were giving their unsolicited opinions and sharing their beliefs when I am happy using air conditioning, drinking milk and making other choices in my life.
I realized that as I am in the process of detaching from the insurmountable and ridiculous accountability to save and take care of everything in my world—I am being triggered by my previous behaviours being mirrored in other people.
I am pissing me off this week.
Who I want to back off is not them, but me.
I desire to back off being superwomen and be Janne.
And where do the unsolicited opinions come from that raised my hackles this week?
Always a place of love, always a place of genuine care.
Nobody was attacking me—even if I felt as if they were.
Over involvement isn’t loving to anybody—including ourselves.
How can we be in peace when we feel a need to care for everybody in our radius?
So I am shifting, again.
Into trusting that without my over involvement, and unsolicited caring/coaching, and obsessing that life will work itself out.
I trust that if the people in my life need and want my advice or for me to hold space—they will ask me for it.
And I trust that if I am not that person, they will find somebody else to be that person for them.
It is not my job to save this world.
Acknowledging and releasing that, is how I am being in service to this world, today.