Now that I have a better understanding of holding space for myself, I'm starting to be able to see, more clearly, how to hold space better for others. For a while I felt like I was doing an excellent job at doing this with Steve; but recently I've been able to see that I can only hold space for someone if I can truly sit with them, and not put my feelings on to them.
The blog I wrote when Steve first got out of the hospital this last visit, was my most viewed blog I've written; because I think it was the start of me truly accepting some hard truths. I'm starting to truly absorb and sit with them. Even yesterday while, chatting with Steve and his parents about some ongoing symptoms happening with Steve, and the question on which steps to take. Of course, when the hospital is mentioned, Steve says, "No hospital please."
My first reaction on a typical basis is to then spend some time trying to convince him to change his mind. Yesterday however it was sort of different.
He calls the shots now, so we sat for a while yesterday and talked it out. Okay, if the hospital isn't an option, let's find another one. One that Steve's agreeable with. Steve's not giving up and doesn't plan to anytime soon, so I am counting my blessings on that; but he doesn't want to do so much intervention anymore.
He said, "If it's my time, I'm ready; and until then I'll live the best I can."
His message was heard for maybe the first time by me. I used to get so confused on how to accept that he is still going to put his energy in living the fullest life he can; while no more hospital interventions. Yesterday I heard him say, "allow me to live this life how I can best be happy and positive," without saying it. He's happy at home, he's comfortable, in control, surrounded by art and nature, he has his peace when he wants it, and he doesn't want anyone else to take care of him, but me. So that's what he will get. :)
So we now have a much less traumatic and invasive plan to help solve some complications (mainly based around a picc line malfunction) and I feel peace. He's still here. He's still willing to do the work, it's just on his terms. I can now hold space for him as he is living the best way he knows how with ALS; and it's beautiful. <3