Trying to Remove a Warm Coat: A Tale of Recovery and Transformation
Photo by Megan Alcock
I’m going to try to explain something fundamental about the way I create lasting transformation in my life using the metaphor of a warm coat. Bear with me here. I’m not too sure how it will go.
I am someone who’s language is emotion but who lives in her head. I am passionate and idealistic. In my natural state this culture would call me naiive. Someone who has her head in the clouds and wears her heart on her sleeve. A dreamer. A visionary. A romantic. A fool.
A learned the hard way a few times, in this culture, that you get hurt living like that. A searing kind of hurt that freezes you numb like bare skin exposed to a -50C wind chill in Manitoba, and then jabs you again with one thousand needles as you warm up.
So I put on a coat. A really warm, double-lined parka, with fur in the hood. To be honest I went whole hog (Manitoba farm reference there - see how I did that) and also put on snow pants, boots, wool socks, mitts, toque and scarf. Let’s just say I bundled myself up real good, and then went back into the world.
To get the idea, you have to picture this: my whole body was puffed up two times its size. The only thing you could see were my eyes, and even they were narrowed and partially covered by colourful folds of yarn. But that was ok by me. In fact, initially I felt good.
Winter passed with ease. No more hurt. No more pain. No more cold.
When springtime came and the weather warmed, I found I could not bring myself to take off the coat. How could I be sure winter was really over? I asked myself. What if I take it off, and then tomorrow wake to find the temperature has dropped and I have hypothermia?
The risk was simply too much, and so, I endured the discomfort of a warm coat to appease the fear of an unpredictable winter.
Summer came, and I was HOT. I sweated profusely and shied away from all fun in the sun, but still, I would not take off my coat. It has done me well so far, I would retort to all nay-sayers. In fact, it has saved my life! I could not have survived that cold without it. I simply cannot give it up now.
Within a short time it was fall. The air was fresh and crisp and magnificent-coloured leaves began to fall. I was unable to go out and enjoy either in my too-warm lumpy layers, but I could sense cold weather was around the corner. Winter is coming, I whispered to my coat, who was now my friend. I’m so glad you are here.
When winter finally arrived I was of course was ready, but by this time I didn’t really care to go out. I was so accustomed to avoiding the warm weather, it seemed absurd to go out into hostile conditions simply because I had warm clothes!
So I stayed inside with my coat and missed out on all of it: the first snow, the ice-lined trees, the whiteouts and the coldest darkest nights of the season.
At first, it felt great. Inside, with my coat, I no longer had to worry about the weather.
At least not the weather out there.
After a while, I began getting chills without going outside, and without taking off my coat. The chills became more frequent, and brought with them aches. I layered on more coats, but the pain would not break, until I realized one night: I had not avoided my pain by retreating in my coat; rather, I had created the coldest night of the season in my very own house!
I threw my coat down on the floor and stomped the ground. How dare you trick me like that!? I shouted. I’m done with you!
That night was a cold one, let me tell you. By the time morning came icicle tears covered my face and my arms were dead blue.
I rolled over, and put on my coat, as it was the only thing I knew to do.
And so began the season of "Trying to Remove a Warm Coat”.
It is understated how hard a thing that is, to remove a warm coat. It is a warm coat after all, and it really does protect you from cold weather.
In my experience three things can happen when you realize that the warm coat that protects you from frostbite in -50C Manitoba winter cannot protect you from the cold of a closed heart:
You force yourself back into denial, and weigh yourself down with so many coats you can no longer think clearly enough to identify the coats as the problem.
You try to use discipline to stop wearing coats cold-turkey and beat the crap out of yourself whenever you feel yourself reaching for their comfort.
You practice staying aware of the “problem” of the coat (that it is not really helping you stay warm), and having compassion for yourself when you still want to wear it, until the day comes that you honestly don’t.
In my experience most people try #1 or #2. I have tried both, and neither really works. #3 is the only way I have ever removed a warm coat sustainably. The process of #3 goes like this:
After realizing the coat is not solving the problem of the deeper cold within me, out of a need for comfort and familiarity, I reach for the coat. I practice not shaming myself. I honour my process. I trust.
The next day, still remembering that the coat is not really keeping me warm, I set it down. I tentatively try something new - I journal, breathe deep, draw - find some other way of dealing with the pain than the coat.
The next day I panic. The pain is still there. I put on the coat. But at a deeper level I am still aware the coat is not what I need. On days 2 - 5 I set aside the coat. On those days I research ways to deal with pain that are not related to the coat. I reach out to a friend. I express myself through art.
Day 6, I panic: back to the coat.
Months 1 - 6 look similar to days 1 - 6. Yet, there is no doubt, the deeper awareness has not wavered: pain does not go away if I smother it with a coat. I am committed to finding another way that actually heals the pain. Forward/backwards as this process may seem eventually I cross a threshold, and I realize that my days of wearing coats year-round are over.
I might burn my old coat ceremoniously, or simply hang it up in the closet for a rest, until -50C rolls around next winter. Either way, because of the permission I have given myself throughout to choose and the compassion I have shown myself no matter my choice, I know the threshold I have crossed is genuine and the transformation irreversible.
Without my coat, I am free to smell the roses, soak in the sun and jump in the freshly fallen leaves as they say. I can even skinny dip in the ocean on a crisp winter morning, but we’ll leave that post for another day.
If you haven’t figured it out by now, “a warm coat” is a metaphor for the substances and/or habits we use to avoid or numb our feelings. It can be as extreme as an addiction, or as seemingly benign as “being busy with work” or avoiding creative expression or deeper intimacy with loved ones. For me it has shown up as all of the above at different times.
I invite you to consider how it shows up for you, and how you are relating to putting your warm coat down to enjoy the sunshine.
Wherever you are at I hope you are being kind to yourself. I know its not easy. But transformation requires love, not self-flagellation. And you are worth it.
I’m on the journey with you.
xo,
Danielle