Blankets

I grew up in a drafty house. Whenever it was windy, the breezes came through the windows and doors as if they weren’t there. Our only remedy was to use blankets. Wrapped in their warmth, we watched TV and did our homework. Only when our parents turned up the heat, which was rare, were we able to discard the blankets.

Looking back, I can see how often I’ve reached for blankets of one kind or another when winds blew. Sitting in the reading circle in third grade, knowing my turn was coming and not being a good reader, I grabbed the class-clown blanket. After messing up on the soccer field, I wrapped myself in the it’s-not-a-big-deal blanket. When I drank too much and said something I shouldn’t have, I used the I-got-this blanket to shield me from my embarrassment.

I don’t use blankets as much as I once did, although they’re all folded neatly in the corner waiting, in case I change my mind.  

There’s nothing I can do about the wind. All I can do is look for healthy ways to seek warmth. I can surround myself with authentic friendships, sit closer to others by being real, present, and vulnerable. More than anything else, I can focus on ways to rely more on a power greater than myself.

It is when I do these things that I find the warmth that keeps me from looking for blankets.

(Written in gratitude for Melody Beattie, the author of Codependent No More)