
What If Trying Harder Isn’t the Answer?
His Wall Is So High.
His wall is so high
I can’t climb over,
but I sure do try.
I try with my love.
I try with my pain.
I try with my anger.
But sure do I try.
His wall is so high.
I try to climb over.
I try with my beauty.
I try with my pain.
I try with my pleasing.
But boy do I try.
His wall is so high.
I try to climb over.
I try with my seduction.
I try with my passion.
Oh boy do I try.
I have chosen not to try.
I rest.
I feel.
I heal the pain.
I feel free.
I wrote this poem years ago, long before I understood Parts Work and before I joined Al-Anon.
Looking at it now, I can see there was a part of me that believed that if I just kept trying, I would finally be loved, noticed, and supported.
Through Al-Anon, Brainspotting, spiritual teachers, therapists, and years of my own inner work, I learned how important it is to feel the pain, listen for the wisdom underneath it, and sometimes let go.
Letting go can be frightening.
We may fear that if we stop trying, we will fall into an abyss and lose everything. But what if, in all that trying, we are losing ourselves? Or perhaps not losing, exactly. Maybe it is more about being disconnected from the wise, knowing part of ourselves. The part that already knows something about who we are and what is true for us. That part never actually disappears.
Over the years, I went from feeling spaced out, uncertain, and lost, believing that if I could get enough support from other people, I would be okay. This shifted as I began recognizing that the parts of me that didn’t feel supported were the ones that needed my attention.
As I learned to work with and embrace these parts, I grew personally and professionally. I share this because, as clinicians, doing our own healing work can strengthen us in all areas of our lives.
Clinically, I started to recognize parts in my clients that I may have previously overlooked, share what I was noticing with them, and guide them into conversations with parts of themselves that felt lost. But to do this, I also had to learn to slow down and get curious about my own need to fix, prove myself, anticipate what others needed, and sometimes set stronger boundaries within the therapeutic relationship.
This is where Parts Work can shift the clinical question.
Rather than asking only:
How do we help this client stop the behavior?
We can become curious about the part that is doing it.
What is it afraid would happen if it stopped?
What does it believe it has to do for the client?
What is it protecting?
What does it need now that it could not receive then?
Parts Work can help us move from trying to eliminate a response to developing a relationship with the part that created it.
And sometimes, that relationship creates the space for something new.
What happens when we stop rushing to figure out how to help our client and become curious about the part that is trying so hard?
Maybe the question isn’t:
“How do I try harder?” but “What part of me believes I still have to?”
