The Nine Patterns
All of us protect ourselves. When something we need feels at risk, we reach for a pattern: a way of holding on, or a way of going quiet. It usually works well enough that we stop noticing we're doing it.
There are nine of these. None of them is a flaw. Each one has carried you somewhere, and most of what you've built, you built while wearing it. This is a chance to see yours clearly, and to notice what it may have crowded out along the way.
There is no score, and no type to land on. You're looking for the one that makes you nod, or wince.
Bring what you find to Devils Thumb. Nothing to decide before then.
How true is this of you?
Which way do you go?
When fear rises, we leave ourselves in one of two directions. We grip, carrying more than is ours, taking it over, forcing it. Or we collapse, carrying less than is ours, going quiet, pulling back.
Everyone does both. Most of us have a first move. Read each situation and choose the one that's more you: the honest one, not the better one.
What gives you energy
What may have gone quiet
Not taken from you. Set down, usually for a good reason, and never picked back up.
What has to happen, and what's hard not to know
Neither one alone lights the fuse. Together, they force fear to act.
The outcome you're attached to
The certainty you hold
Two ways of wearing the same pattern
Turned outward to push, or turned inward to hide.
When you grip
When you collapse
The space between isn't the middle of this line. It's the moment you notice you're standing on it at all.
What it costs when you stay in it too long
Your doorway
Not something to achieve, and not something to believe by Tuesday. Just the pause before you reach for the pattern, long enough to notice there's a choice.
Most women wear more than one. These sounded almost as much like you.
Read any of them
You know yourself better than any set of questions does. If another one sounds more like the inside of your head, that one is yours.
You are not here to get rid of it.
Your pattern isn't coming off this weekend, and it isn't supposed to. It kept you safe, and a good deal of your life was built inside it. We're only after the moment before it decides for you.
Between now and December, notice it once or twice. Not to stop it. Just to catch it happening. That noticing is the whole practice.
The goal isn't to arrive and stay. The practice is to return.