And I've spoken to enough criminals to know that almost all violence boils down to a great ball of tension, stress, and anger that has been building and gathering through a long line of past unfortunate events, abuses, and wrongdoings tension that coils tighter and tighter inside an individual, like a compressed spring, until one day it simply unloads.
Another thing I learned in psychology was exactly how dangerous it is to enable the destructive behavior of the people you love.
In Montana, thr environment provides clear boundaries and truths: Hypothermia will kill you. A bear with its cubs should not be provoked. Unstable layers of snow might slide and create an avalanche. Getting lost in the woods without proper gear might be the end of you. Drought causes fire and fruitless crops. The leaves and pine needles change colors and drop to the ground. The lake water turns to ice, the ground freezes, and snow falls. In the warming spring, the fields turn lush and the crops grow. The mountains and the fresh air seem like possibility; each season brings new beginnings; and finally, each day holds promises under an expanding sky, not suffocating routines that smear together like a muted impressionist painting.
It hits me like a flash of light that it might not be only Rose's laugh that reminds me of my sister. There might be other things: deep, scary things like the ability to lie and steal and throw other people under the bus to get your way.
Sometimes I wonder if it's my own inability to trust that draws me to men like Reeve, men incapable of forging intimate, sustainable bonds, as if my own detachment is like a shield that makes theirs so difficult to detect.
It took me a long time to realize that our parents don't necessarily have to define us. Still, like shadows, certain events from our childhood follow us everywhere we go.
It's supposed to be a comforting sound, an indication that the search and rescue troops are on the way, a sign that even when the world is a cruel place and hope is scarce, you're not alone, someone is coming to save you. This time, though, the patterned noise of the blades slicing through the sky, like the rapid spin cycle of a washing machine, makes my heart pound and panic rise. My scalp feels tingly. I have to remind myself to breathe.
But I know from my work that so often it's the inside circle that's the most harmful. I know that, and still, I let it happen under my own roof.
Some women- psychologically healthy women-probably know enough to stay away from him, but you'd be Surprised how many smart women don't trust their instincts when it comes to men who might be broken. These women believe they will be the ones to change them, make them see the light,and that in turn will restore some missing piece inside themselves.
The wild doesn't solve or even erase your problems, it simply helps you balance them. Helps you find a fulcrum between your inner and outer focus -like the space between the sky and the groundso you don't drive yourself crazy.