The Fixer

 I strained my back lifting Omar’s mini-fridge during a thorough cleaning of his room while he and Nick were out of town working on Nick’s second documentary. So I went to see my Chiropractor, Muffit, for the first time in a year. Muffit is not your ordinary Chiropractor. I never expected her to be half-chiropractor, half-therapist and half-minister, but the doctor who recommended her to me six years ago to deal with my stress knew Muffit’s treatment style was just what I needed. With her various and sundry tools, she tends not only to my skeletal system, but to my emotional and spiritual well-being too. I had alot to tell her — I had spent the whole year in a little bubble, protecting myself from the energy of fear, paranoia and upset so many people carried around. I was irritated and mad for months and could tolerate interacting with only a handful of folks.

“Okay, lie back and let’s see what comes up for you,” she said. She palpated my stomach, my ribs, touched my forehead, my hip, my ankles, then pulled out her big deck of Energized Angel Symbol Cards. She shuffled the deck around and then turned three cards over on my belly. These cards represented my personal guardian angels, who work on the spiritual level to bring me whatever I need at the moment. 

“Angel for Universal Love…” she said, turning over the first card. “Angel for Fellowship and… Angel for Responsibility.” 

“No way,” I said. I was always surprised at the cards that came up. “Okay, Universal love, that’s obvious. I’ve hated people for a whole year. Maybe this angel will help me love them.”

“The Angel for Fellowship card says, ‘I am prepared to help others but I do not forget myself,’” she said.

“Wow. I know exactly what that means,” I said, then told her about my conversations with Nick and Omar while they were out of town last week. 

“Oh, my God,” Nick had breathed into the phone the night after they arrived in Miami. “I’m exhausted. I wish I never said I’d do this.”

I was excited for him to work on this documentary because it gives him something on which to focus his creative energies instead of moping around the house waiting for an acting job. He’s dreamed of moving into directing and producing for many years and he is making these dreams come true with this documentary and the one he shot last year. But there are some drawbacks. First off, he loathes being away from home. And I knew he was going to be exhausted from the travelling and rigorous shooting schedule.

“You’re probably jet-lagged. You’ll be okay in a couple of days.”

“I’m counting the days until I get back. We shoot here for two days, then one in Dallas and then there’s only a week until we fly back.”

I was counting the days too, but for different reasons. I knew he was worried about putting this project together because the documentary style felt a little too loose for his taste. He’s accustomed to having a script and a vision which he then carries out with a singular purpose.

“I don’t know what this documentary is even about,” he said.

“Well, this is how it went with the first one, right? You found the structure and tone as you went along last time?”

“I guess.”

Also, he is not accustomed to running the show. He’s usually the one waiting in his trailer like royalty until a PA knocks unobtrusively on his door, saying, “Mr. Searcy, they’re ready for you on set.” As producer for these documentaries, he has been in charge of the whole she-bang. From raising the money, opening a corporation, making a budget, hiring a crew, renting the equipment, writing the script, to conducting all of the interviews, working with the editor, the distributor, the investors. He didn’t realize how good he had it as an actor. When he called from Dallas, his mood had slumped further.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, barely above a whisper. “This shit is tedious and unbearable.” 

I felt bad for him and I longed to jump in and make it better. The old Leslie, Help-change-your-attitude Leslie, Leslie the Cheerleader, Leslie the Fixer was triggered. But since I have made some spiritual progress over the years, I stopped my mouth from saying words. I was too familiar with the pattern and could have written the script about how this scene would play out if I jumped in and tried to “help.” He was just exhausted and overwhelmed and didn’t need fixing. I let him complain a little longer and then said, “I’m sure everything’s going to work out fine, just like last time. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

This pattern has been so hard to break because his upset, confusion, fatigue or lack of confidence made me afraid. We both counted on his drive, his ambition, his complete confidence in his abilities to make things happen. I needed to bolster him up so that I could ride on the coattails of his faith. But now I was clear that I needed to let Nick have his own feelings and I needed to take responsibility for my own. He would be fine and, in the end, would love doing this documentary just like he did last time.

“Call me tomorrow. I’m gonna check in with Omar.” I had to brace myself before calling him. Omar also loathes being away from home, and travelling in general is anxiety-provoking for him. 

“Hi Mom,” Omar said with no inflection at all.

“Hey, Omar, how’s it going?”

“I hate Florida. I’m ready to come home.” Oh boy. “It’s 92 degrees here and humid and I wore jeans and a sweatshirt.”

“Well, maybe you should have worn some shorts,” I couldn’t help saying. I listened to him complain about the weather, the early wake-up calls, the schlepping of equipment, the boredom of the waiting, the hatred of airports, having to wear a mask all during the flight…

“I just took this job because Dad made me. I hope I don’t lose my other job.”

“Delivering medications? Seriously? Omar…” I had no words. We think Omar should be grateful for this amazing opportunity handed to him by his Dad during a Pandemic. We try to explain to him how difficult it is to break into the film business and how lucky he is to have connections. But in fact, he’s grouchy, unhappy to leave his room, his dogs, his friends. 

“I just took this job so you wouldn’t make me move out.”

“Well, you’re going to continue your apartment search the minute you get back home,” I warned, starting to prickle. 

“We’re never gonna get back home. Now Dad wants me to go to Washington.” 

I could feel myself getting stressed and then I realized he was playing me. He has a natural-born talent for knowing the perfect thing to say to upset a person. I had to hold Leslie the Fixer back! I have been playing this part for so many years, it’s very difficult to even recognize when I’m doing it. I created the role for myself, after all. It made me feel needed and important. I saw what was happening here and realized that listening to him came at a cost for me.

“Okay, Omar, that’s all the venting I can take for one day. If you need to vent more, you need to call someone else.”

“Okay, I’m calling Chloe.” Chloe has not learned her lesson yet and will listen to him go on and on and on. 

“Yes, call Chloe, she’s a good listener.”

“I know. She doesn’t say anything.” Hmmm…interesting.

“So,” I told Muffit, “I recognized that I was tempted to fix both Nick and Omar, that their problems were a call to action for me. But they didn’t even want my help, they just wanted to talk about their feelings. I had to take responsibility for my own feelings and just gently get off the phone when I felt myself getting stressed.” 

“So maybe if you stop trying to “help” and find a way to just listen, you wouldn’t be irritated. Then you could find a way to express Universal Love,” Muffit said.

Whoa. Was it my desire to help and fix that made me unable to be around people? I always thought it was my responsibility to take care of everyone, to always be there when people needed me. But maybe if I had taken more responsibility for own feelings and needs, I could have loved others last year instead of shutting them out? I could have saved myself the grief of hating people. I wish I would had seen Muffit sooner, that I had not spent the last year blaming Covid for my stress and unhappiness.

Muffit adjusted my back and sent me off with a picture of my Angel cards. My three guardian angels have their work cut out for them. And I have some work to do too. I’m going to pray that they watch over Leslie the Fixer and help her give up that role so that instead of feeling irritated and mad at everybody for a year, she can move to a place of Universal Love for all. 

PS — I highly recommend her — drmuffitjensen.com