5/18//06
Lean on Me
Someone once asked me, regarding an entrepreneurial venture, if I wanted to be a racehorse or a donkey. He meant it as a sort of character evaluation, with the patent assumption that the racehorse, geared for high stakes, speed, and sleek lines, pointed to success, whereas the donkey - patient, gentle, humble - was destined for the sidelines. This man himself was big-time, and I don’t think it occurred to him that someone might consciously select the less well-heeled route.
My idea of the donkey is much different than his, however, due to a concept from the bodywork field called Zero Balancing, first developed by Dr. Fritz Smith thirty years ago. Here, the Donkey is like the subconscious, or the deeper part of our awareness and inner knowing. It is our Donkey that responds to people and situations at an instinctual level.
Everyone’s donkey is different: one is shy and moves slowly into connection with others, another moves enthusiastically, without hesitation; one likes a firm grip, while another feels more comfortable with a soft touch; one enjoys large gatherings, another prefers hanging out at home with a few good friends. Each donkey is unique, worthy of respect, recognition, and acceptance.
Regardless of the differences, the point is to find the kind of contact that is right for each of us. We know it by how it feels: safe, comforting, nourishing. We are able to relax into it, let down our guard, and trust that we are well cared for.
“Donkey/Donkey touch” describes that place where you and I meet each other in mutual esteem. It is an acknowledgement, an affirmation that we see one another – beyond the masks we wear to hide our vulnerabilities, below the fears that we’re not lovable. We make a donkey/donkey connection by opening our hearts and paying attention at a deeper level; we make that connection by having no expectations, no need for someone to be anywhere or anyone other than where and who they are at that very moment.
The phrase “donkey lean” came from observing how two donkeys, each carrying loads on their backs, lean into each other while they walk along, usually up hill. (Aren’t the hardest burdens to carry those that feel as if we’re not only going it alone, but also toiling up a steep slope?) Sharing the burden lightens it for each of them. The weight of the loads doesn’t have to be the same, nor does the size or personality of the donkeys; it works because they register each other’s needs, accommodate them, and find a mutually comfortable point between them where each feels evenly supported.
When I was young, I thought I would work with animals – wildlife biologist, or veterinarian – mostly because I considered them less problematical than humans. It was only when the twists of life took me to northern California in my mid-20’s to study herbs that I began to want to work with people. All my studies in alternative health since then have shown me how intimately tied we are to each other, and what I understand from that is this: we are not meant to do this life on our own, but rather to help each other fully express our hearts.
Humans are like donkeys: we like to be supported, but we have to trust what we’re leaning against. I believe our most basic need is to lean on each other, to share the ups and downs. When, as Fritz says, we “hold each other in the highest personal regard,” that donkey lean is one of the best things we’ve got going for us.
Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article.
© 2009 Jenny Chapin277 Main Street, 2nd Floor, Greenfield, MA 01301
413-522-3816 Email: jgchapin@crocker.com
Directions/Map
© 2009 Jenny Chapin
Top of This Page