Tethered…
teth·er (tr) n.
1.a. A rope, chain, or similar restraint for holding an animal in place, allowing a short radius in which it can move about.b. A similar ropelike restraint used as a safety measure, especially for young children and astronauts.
2. A rope, chain, or similar restraint for holding one, especially an animal, in place, allowing a short radius in which one can move about.
3. The extent or limit of one's resources, abilities, or endurance: drought-stricken farmers at the end of their tether
tr.v. teth·ered, teth·er·ing, teth·ers To fasten or restrict with or as if with a tether.
When I think about this word, my first thoughts race to the grade school playground. Tetherball, where a relentless person takes all the hits simply for the pure gain of winning. All the time. The rules were subject to change for this person. Always the winner, they were. "You can only hit the ball once, but I can hit the ball twice because it passed me again." she'd say.
What about after the playground? I find myself tethered to my past. Tethered to my circumstance. Tethered to my future. Tethered to ideas that I have about myself, or worse, that others have about me. Maybe I'm the only one like this.
The definition of tethered (above) would indicate that tethering is for the very young or for the protection of an animal. It is a restraint. A terminal end. I know for me, when I think about "getting to the end of my rope," I hadn't considered that the rope I've hit the end of, might in fact, be a tether. Something put into place. Either by design or by an outside force where I can, without much effort at all, get to the end of it. I'm stuck. Spinning in on myself and finding no freedom or relief. When I get to that place, I wonder if the rest I seek to actually makes my rope longer or if it's just another one, well disguised. Another rope that I grab onto without addressing the source of the limitation first.
As a mother, my kids can definitely bring me to the end of this rope of mine. They're awesome, but they're also challenging. I have learned, over the last 17 years of parenting that growing some serious patience will keep me from the maxing out. I've also learned that perspective and empathy are serious players in the game of sanity for me, and that's not just parental truth.
If I'm honest with myself, it's not the kids that cause any of the serious, scarring, painful burns, gouges in my confidence, the deep crevices where trust once was, the dark corners in my previously open heart. Those marks. Where do they come from? What chains were wrapped around me? Who put them there? If it was me, will I see it coming next time and avoid it? Can I ever get past them? Can I find a place where looking back and forward won't involve the treachery of crossing those scars and the painful sensitivity that comes with bearing them?
I'm not really sure I can answer those questions right now. I can tell you that I would like to gain perspective on this idea and live it out a little bit. Considering that a zip line involves a tether and that's a really good thing, I can also suppose that there are tethers that are really for my protection and not for my limitation. For safety and added value.
I just have to be sure that I don't catch myself letting someone else's opinion or influence be a negative tether. I need to own my tethers, and I need to be very mindful in forgiving myself and letting go of some old chains.
