When the Ricochet Backfires
Embracing Life's Slingshot Moments
Occasionally as a licensed psychologist, I’ll have encounters with clients that deeply resonate within my soul – what I like to call “slingshot moments.”
If you’ve ever had a conversation with someone and experienced the moment when a string of words rolls off your tongue, rushes towards the other person, and quickly ricochets back to you, then you know what I’m talking about. If you’re a person of faith, you might even consider these moments divinely orchestrated.
This happened to me a few days ago.
My client and I discussed the self-liberation that often accompanies forgiveness. A freedom each of us deserves in order to live unashamed and unyoked from the painful wounds inflicted by others. And with that liberation often comes an awareness of the frailty and brokenness that exist within the perpetrator of the pain. In my client’s case, there was recognition of the trauma endured by her father, contributing to his limited capacities as a father to her. For me, it was an acknowledgment of the ways in which I remain emotionally tethered to the hopes for an apology – one that I will likely never receive – all while being pulled towards unforgiveness in my heart.
The ricochet stung, causing me to briefly pause, breathe deeply, and collect myself as I sat with my client.
My initial thought, frustration, as I considered the work I’ve already done to soothe the internal ache. Next, a resignation to what is – the truth that I still long for “closure,” even though I’d convinced myself otherwise. Finally, more surrender to the fullness of my humanity.
I gently shared the following truths with my client.
Your heart still hurts. It’s okay to desire an apology from someone who’s wronged you. Expressing the pain doesn’t make you weak, needy, or less than.
And finally, perhaps the most important truth: In your pain, you can also seek a soft place to land – that place being you. To my client, also a woman of faith, the God that resides within you.
In that sacred therapeutic space alongside my client, the final truth reverberated within me.
A soft place.
In years past, I may have concealed my pain and denied my craving for healthy resolution. If I had revealed my feelings, this may have caused me to question my strength and ability to handle challenging situations. But what good can come from that? What can be gained from hardening your heart and living life in a guarded way?
These are the questions I now ask myself. They are the ones I hope you consider.
My friend, what might the slingshot moments in your life be trying to tell you?
Here are a few possibilities:
Maybe it's time to tell the truth about how you feel.
Maybe it’s time to rest in the fullness of your humanity.
Maybe it’s time to tend to the innermost parts of yourself.
Maybe it’s time to seek refuge from God.
Maybe it’s time to lower your guard and invite others in.
Maybe it’s time to grieve and lament.
My friend, we no longer need to hide. We are human. We feel. We experience loss.
Yet we can enter the soft place – a place where all of our feelings are welcome, our hopes can co-exist with heartache, and our wounds can reside without judgment.
Journaling is often the practice that helps me identify and make sense of what I feel. If this resonates with you, I encourage you to explore the following journaling prompts:
What is the wounding, and where does it hurt?
What might the pain be communicating with me?
What small step can I take today to liberate myself?
When the slingshot ricochets in our lives, it stings. At the same time, it’s often the ricochet that wakes us up to the need to tend to ourselves. My hope is that you do just that – because you’re worth it.
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Remember, we can cultivate softness in every area of our lives.
xo, Mekel
