Dorothy Leon

TOUGH LOVE? LOVE IS NOT TOUGH
by Dorothy Leon

Inspired by my "Indigo" grandson, who came to live with me in 2005.

As he struggled to stop using drugs and get into college, I was shocked by the heartless reaction of certain friends and relatives. To say "tough love" is like saying hot ice or cold fire. The two terms are incompatible. The Bible states: "Charity suffereth long, and is kind". Jesus said: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." In the book, "A Road Less Traveled", love is defined as "putting the needs of another above your own". That does not sound very tough either, does it?

Love and charity come from the heart. If the heart is pure, one's thoughts will be loving. The Bible also says; "Perfect love casteth out fears", while tough love, which causes one to feel abandoned, can only increase them.

Platitudes are wonderful and uplifting, but let us examine a real life scenario. My twenty-two-year old grandson came to live with me about two years ago. After five years of experiencing tough love to the extreme, he had completely given up on life and came here to die. (I just wrote a book about him, entitled: "An Indigo Struggles to Overcome Drugs".)

Although the family knew he was on drugs, we did not know the extent of his suffering. His father, my son, embarrassed at not being able to handle his only child, and having evicted him at age 18, had remained secretive. The boy, striving to prove himself and unwilling to admit defeat, also withheld the facts. The few times during the years that he attended family gatherings, he disguised the inner pain of his pitiful homeless existence.

After evicting him, his father moved, leaving no means of contact, expect a post office box and a telephone number. Whenever the boy made a desperate call, his dad would bring him food, buy him clothes and occasionally pay a month's rent. One year, when he visited his son on his birthday, he asked him what he wanted for a present. When they boy answered: "I just want to be your friend," his dad said: "No, you can't be my friend! I don't associate with druggies!" Feeling helpless and hopeless, he sunk even lower for the next few years.

His only job was day labor--working when he wanted to or needed money for drugs. Unable to obtain a car or driver's license, inundated with mounting fines from the law, and with little education, since he had dropped out of school, he completely gave up on life. When his teeth began to rot, his dad took him to a dentist to have eleven of them extracted, then dropped him off at my house to recuperate. This is when he told me he wanted to die; that he had hit bottom.

Loving him unconditionally and holding the "immaculate concept" for his highest good, I asked him to continue living with me, my husband and my elderly mother. Inspired by my spiritual teachings, I believed: "If one will love enough, all will be set free." But our relatives, practicing "tough love", were against my "molly-codling" a drug addict.

Besieged by their judgment, I could feel what he must have felt during the past five years. Although he had never been abusive or stolen from any of them, he was an embarrassment to their life style. What they called "tough love" actually meant, "we can't cope with him and don't want to be bothered".

Using the analogy of "what comes first the chicken or the egg", I asked: "Does he have to become perfect before you accept him? Or do you need to accept him first in order to give him the strength to become perfect?" But, unable to penetrate their "I-will-love-you-if" philosophy, I remained a majority of one.

When Jesus healed an individual, he said: "Go and sin no more". Encouraging the boy to stop using drugs was the extent of my tough love. I repeatedly stated: "You have too much potential to waste it on drugs."

He was difficult to deal with and had several relapses during the first year, but I also saw many small improvements and witnessed his tremendous sense of love and compassion. The fact that he had a home, food and someone to care, inspired him to get a full-time job. He was encouraged by doing well enough to receive a raise.

To a small degree, he began to gain a sense of confidence. But, having been broke the majority of his life, then suddenly having money, he was tempted to party, which of course, led him back into drugs. When he began to make payments on his fines and court fees, however, he saw that he would eventually be able to purchase a car and procure his license. This was his first glimmer of hope.

Our society needs uplifting programs that allow those who have addictions to see light at the end of the tunnel. While interviewing several former addicts, none of them gave credence to "tough love". Each one--having been completely overwhelmed by their massive fines, expensive meetings, and loss of their driver's license--had felt a sense of hopelessness. They had quit using only when they began to see their greater potential or had a strong reason to quit, such as regaining custody of their children.

"Family intervention", they agreed, is a great help, assuring them that everyone cares and that there is a way out. When I asked what they considered to be the most helpful thing I could do for my grandson, one replied: "Get him to forgive himself. Addicts hate themselves far more than anyone else can ever hate them."

Years ago, I read a book about a man in prison, who had no friends. Consequently, he had no motivation to improve his life and was continually getting "thrown in the hole." When it came to the attention of the warden, that this man had never been visited or received any mail, he asked him, "Why do you continue to get into trouble?" The prisoner answered, "No one cares, so why should I?" The warden answered: "I care and I know you can do better." When he continued to visit and encourage him, the lonely inmate finally began to improve. He eventually became a minister, whose mission was to visit and encourage other prisoners.

In an effort to soften my family, who claimed to be "good Christians", I found a picture of Jesus with his arms outspread, glued a photo of my grandson between them and made copies. When I distributed them, I asked each friend/relative to hold this vision. Leaving them speechless, they took heed. What could they say? Like the old adage states: "A picture says a thousand words".

Taking him to various healers and counselors, who saw his higher potential, he became convinced that he was "engineer material". This led to his interest in college, where he received very high scores on his GED and placement test. Conversing with a counselor, he took an aptitude test and was guided to the electronic branch of engineering. When he was given three grants, he finally began to see the possibility of actually accomplishing his childhood dream. He then made a conscious decision that he would rather be an engineer than a druggie; he had finally realized that he could not be both,

When he started college, he said, "Grandma, when you and the counselors saw my potential and believed in me, I began to see myself in a new light, but those who shunned me with their so-called 'tough love' just made me worse.

"When someone else sees your good, you begin to see yourself through their eyes. When several different people assured me that I could become an engineer, I believed it. I'll never forget when the college counselor said: 'Our country is based on forgiveness. If an individual makes a mistake, which we all do to one degree or another, there are many programs available to get you back on track.' When he helped me obtain my college grants, it was the first time I actually saw any hope. Before that, I never thought I could be or have anything. I would still be a homeless druggie in the street if no one had encouraged me.

"That's why I wanted to die." he continued, "I completely gave up. When people--even your own dad--tells you you're so bad you can't be his friend or come on his property to visit, you view yourself as hopeless. Why can't people see that tough love doesn't help anyone? It's just a selfish reaction. Thank you for believing in me, Grandma. I guess you saw something in me that no one else, even I, could see.

"Now, when I talk to other addicts, I will strive to awaken their highest good rather than judge their mistakes. To discourage someone--kick them while they're down--removes their courage to succeed, but to offer them a hand up instills courage. And I will never, ever, tell anyone that they can't be my friend or that they are not good enough to visit me. That's the most devastating thing a person can ever say! It nearly killed me when my dad did so. But I am learning to forgive the family. They didn't realize the devastating effects of their tough love."

"I'm so proud of you," I answered, giving him a hug. "They drew a circle and shut you out, but you are drawing a bigger circle to take them in. That is truly love and there is nothing TOUGH about it."

My master teacher, Ascended Master Saint Germain says: "To help others, plant a seed in them and pray that it will grow into a Tree of Knowledge and produce the fruits of wisdom. Plant, but be do not dig to see if the seed is growing yet. Trust. Be gentle and love unconditionally!"

(An excerpt from Dorothy's latest book "Gleanings Along the Path" that details her kundalini experience that lead to Cosmic Consciousness.)

Minister, counselor and author of fifteen books, Dorothy Leon can be reached at: DorothyLeon.com

An interview with Dorothy, about "Is Jehovah an E.T.?" from NewConnexion.net

An article by Dorothy appeared in Oracle2020.com in May 2003.