The Unseen Supports: What Do We Truly Lean On?

Isn't it funny, how we navigate this wild ride called life? We think we’re so independent, so capable, yet if we’re truly honest with ourselves, we all lean on something. Or someone, for that matter. Call them what you will — habits, routines, beliefs, even people — but in truth, these are our crutches. The unseen supports, you could say, that help us hobble along, sometimes without us even realizing their vital role until they’re suddenly, jarringly, gone.

And what are these crutches? Oh, they come in myriad forms, don't they? For some, it’s that morning ritual: the precisely brewed coffee, the familiar newspaper rustle, the quiet moments before the day erupts. For others, it’s a deeply held philosophy, a comforting spiritual practice, or perhaps a beloved daily walk through the park. Honestly, it could be anything that provides a sense of stability, a predictable anchor in a world that often feels anything but. Sometimes, it’s a person — a steadfast friend, a loving partner, a guiding mentor. We rely on their wisdom, their presence, their mere existence, to bolster our own.

The curious thing, though, is how often these crutches become so woven into the fabric of our existence that we simply cease to see them as such. They're just... part of life. We lean, unconsciously, and assume they'll always be there. It’s like breathing, isn't it? You don't truly appreciate the effortless rhythm until a cold snatches it away, leaving you gasping. And then, and only then, do you notice the support you once took for granted.

But here’s the rub, isn’t it? Life, in its infinite, sometimes cruel, wisdom, often forces us to let go. Suddenly, the routine is broken, the belief challenged, the person gone. The crutch, that sturdy thing we depended upon, is yanked away. And for a moment, perhaps a long moment, we stumble. We feel unbalanced, raw, terribly exposed. It's a terrifying sensation, truly.

Yet, and this is where the magic happens, something extraordinary often emerges from that void. When the crutches are gone, when there’s nothing left to lean on, we are compelled — no, we are forced — to find our own two feet. We discover muscles we didn't know we had, a balance we never quite trusted. The very act of letting go, painful as it is, unveils an inherent strength, a resilience that was always there, patiently waiting beneath the layers of comfortable support.

You see, while crutches provide comfort and ease, they can also, paradoxically, prevent us from truly standing tall. They can, dare I say, sometimes hinder our growth, our ability to walk unaided. So perhaps, just perhaps, life’s occasional removal of our crutches isn't a punishment, but an invitation. An invitation to discover the unwavering strength within, to embrace our own solitude not as an empty space, but as a rich wellspring of self-reliance. To finally, for once, stand completely on our own, perhaps a little wobbly at first, but undeniably, beautifully, whole.