"Only in an open, nonjudgmental space can we acknowledge what we are feeling. Only in an open space where we're not all caught up in our own version of reality can we see and hear and feel who others really are, which allows us to be with them and communicate with them properly." Pema Chodron
I heard a story of a little boy whose father was very strict. His mother cowered under his father's demands and threats. When the little boy would go to bed at night, his father would come into the room, strip him of his clothes and beat him with a belt, until he bled. His mother could only watch in terror.
When I found out who this boy was, I was relieved. Not because of the family's pain or shame, but because I could finally let go of the hurt I held onto for so many years. I could understand the criticism and self- hatred I felt, and the confusion I felt for my stepfather. I could relate to his confusion and pain. He was this little boy. Being a mother that enjoyed every moment of my little boy's life, I was devastated. How can you allow your child such treatment? How can you have so much fear that you can't get away? Unfortunately, I know how his mother felt also, having been in similar situations. It demands a lot of courage to get away from both physical and mental abuse.
Feeling powerless, ashamed, and afraid, I have been unable to stand up for myself throughout my life. I thought I outgrew these things, and as my onion layers peel away, I am more like I was in the beginning as if I never learned a thing at all. My karmic cruise must be astern, or maybe that is just karma, samsara... same thing, different day. I always hated that phrase since I thought was just a copout for a lazy person not to do any soulwork. Now I think it is just compliance, so that life is easier, and you can just go to bed and sleep peacefully.
Alas, tonight Chianti - 5 oz times 2 (since all I have to do tommorrow at work is show someone how to file... and I still have shorttimer's...) and maybe I can get Mr Lucky to visit me again... He is terrified of being upstairs and I am not sure if he hasn't also had an alien probe visit ;) (another story...)
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
All about Steve
"Learning how to be kind to ourselves, learning how to respect ourselves, is important. The reason it's important is that, fundamentally, when we look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn't just ourselves that we're discovering. We're discovering the universe." Pema Chodron
It's difficult to have compassion for oneself. I am an expert at being compassionate for my fellow being. I can place myself in anyone's predicament and hurt with the best of sorrows. I, however, am blinded upon reflecting on myself. Second guessing myself is my nature. When I hear other's interpetation of me, I integrate their language into my self-talk, and beat myself up more. Meditation on emptiness leads to feeling more empiness but I don't think it is the kind that Avalokiteśvara was referencing.
Alas. tonight a glass of Chianti (5oz only of course ;).
It's difficult to have compassion for oneself. I am an expert at being compassionate for my fellow being. I can place myself in anyone's predicament and hurt with the best of sorrows. I, however, am blinded upon reflecting on myself. Second guessing myself is my nature. When I hear other's interpetation of me, I integrate their language into my self-talk, and beat myself up more. Meditation on emptiness leads to feeling more empiness but I don't think it is the kind that Avalokiteśvara was referencing.
Alas. tonight a glass of Chianti (5oz only of course ;).
Friday, December 11, 2009
Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?
"Kool" text from daughter after requesting to gather things while I wasn't home. Well, that's a baby step but maybe nothing at all...
How does family reconnect after hurtful words? How does anyone survive when one chooses to no longer have contact? I suppose there are circumstances that one decides are unforgivable. I had one of those circumstances and I held on to it for a long time. I decided that I had to let it go since I was the only one suffering. The memories are not so fresh any more and I have to dig a little deeper to find them. Hmmm... Is this due to aging and signs of dementia or did I really do the work to let go and have peace?
Alas, tonight another Margarita - a shot of Tres Generacion left, no salt, and Mr Lucky's 20 minutes... He usually has one spot of oil on his back from doing yoga beneath the car. He is very sensitive about that spot so reassure him that his fur is like silk. Be careful, too may shots of tequila then forgetting about the spot, you get the super size claw!
How does family reconnect after hurtful words? How does anyone survive when one chooses to no longer have contact? I suppose there are circumstances that one decides are unforgivable. I had one of those circumstances and I held on to it for a long time. I decided that I had to let it go since I was the only one suffering. The memories are not so fresh any more and I have to dig a little deeper to find them. Hmmm... Is this due to aging and signs of dementia or did I really do the work to let go and have peace?
Alas, tonight another Margarita - a shot of Tres Generacion left, no salt, and Mr Lucky's 20 minutes... He usually has one spot of oil on his back from doing yoga beneath the car. He is very sensitive about that spot so reassure him that his fur is like silk. Be careful, too may shots of tequila then forgetting about the spot, you get the super size claw!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
My One and Only
"You live your life by a man..." Text from daughter 12/2/09. Painful and some bit of truth...
Watch the movie with the same title as today's blog and know my pain. I had what I felt an excellent childhood. My life spiraled into hell's front door upon becoming a teenager and my mother moved in with that man (stepfather). She fell in love? I don't know, we never talk about him anymore. (Ack just got a gutful of habitual momentum - needs less salt.) I am sure she intended that we would be taken care of and she was happy. She was full of hope!
I remember what it was like to be full of hope. Someone videotaped my arrival to what I thought was "my dream home". A couple of year's later as the earth uprooted my heart, I saw that tape. My face shown god's glory and my eyes joyously twinkled. I never wanted to see that tape again. The hurt was raw as I saw my ignorant self banking on foolish ventures. My intentions were to escape my troubles and to keep my children from harm. Not only keep them from harm but I wanted to lavish their little lives with the spoils of society. I couldn't afford to cater to their whims and usually I was living beyond my means. I sought partners to help me attain this goal but I wanted my partners to stay away from the care and discipline of my children. They all too readily obliged, watching with binoculars at the curious spectacle. I thought I was protecting them from wrath and betrayal, the likes of which I suffered. My partners were unable to commit to the family I wanted because I didn't grant them full control.
One bad dad after another, breaking my heart and my children's spirit, leads me to my culmination. My vulnerbility to believe things will get better, and my ability to accept my reality just a little too late, brought about more suffering than if I would have just allowed myself to feel that fear and do the best with what I had. The most distasteful bite of my humble pie is knowing that I have come full circle. At the mercy of my young teacher, she is right. How do I find the courage to plead forgiveness from my daughter and myself?
Alas, tonight a margarita (I found a few remaining shots - YES!) with Tres Generaciones tequila anejo (dos mia) hold the salt (I have had enough bitters for the day) and perhaps my Rosie ( her mission is to mediate the humans - by allowing them to run their fingers though her dust ridden hair for a certain time allotment lest they get the claw) will sit in my lap to comfort me...
I remember what it was like to be full of hope. Someone videotaped my arrival to what I thought was "my dream home". A couple of year's later as the earth uprooted my heart, I saw that tape. My face shown god's glory and my eyes joyously twinkled. I never wanted to see that tape again. The hurt was raw as I saw my ignorant self banking on foolish ventures. My intentions were to escape my troubles and to keep my children from harm. Not only keep them from harm but I wanted to lavish their little lives with the spoils of society. I couldn't afford to cater to their whims and usually I was living beyond my means. I sought partners to help me attain this goal but I wanted my partners to stay away from the care and discipline of my children. They all too readily obliged, watching with binoculars at the curious spectacle. I thought I was protecting them from wrath and betrayal, the likes of which I suffered. My partners were unable to commit to the family I wanted because I didn't grant them full control.
One bad dad after another, breaking my heart and my children's spirit, leads me to my culmination. My vulnerbility to believe things will get better, and my ability to accept my reality just a little too late, brought about more suffering than if I would have just allowed myself to feel that fear and do the best with what I had. The most distasteful bite of my humble pie is knowing that I have come full circle. At the mercy of my young teacher, she is right. How do I find the courage to plead forgiveness from my daughter and myself?
Alas, tonight a margarita (I found a few remaining shots - YES!) with Tres Generaciones tequila anejo (dos mia) hold the salt (I have had enough bitters for the day) and perhaps my Rosie ( her mission is to mediate the humans - by allowing them to run their fingers though her dust ridden hair for a certain time allotment lest they get the claw) will sit in my lap to comfort me...
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Culmination
"You have to live with the consequences of your actions" (last text to my 19-year old daughter 12/2/09 after a huge fight). Difficult to proceed from there...
It's been a week since we have talked or texted, and I sorely miss her. I know she is safe because I check in with my estranged husband daily. He has been sworn to disclose very little information about her, lest he get the "claw." I know she continues to make her decisions without my approval (not that it was requested or appreciated) be they good or bad (my opinion, of course). I hope that she is taking care of her legal obligations (this being what I want to know about most since it affects her future- and mine!).
She's always had a strong head on her shoulders, which includes a strong opinion, a strong voice, and most certainly, strong words. This is what makes up the best part of her character, and something I have always admired and encouraged. This isn't always an accepted character in society, especially in a woman, so I always treaded lightly while teaching her to use this magnificient weapon.
I had and probably still have a shelled existance. Wanting to make a difference and change the world, I revert to keeping the peace (and my mouth shut). I address issues in a round about way with my family and friends. If any one exhibits some sort of agitation or descent, I flee beneath a calm abiding - zen like - until the storm subsides. Sometimes the issue is addressed again; mostly it is set aside in polite manner until the same issue exhumes!
I then wonder why my life is in it's current state and why my problems still exist! So my ego has caged me for a week, unable to text (preferable communication tool at the moment) my daughter, fearing I have crossed a line with her and fearing that I have not crossed it soon enough so therefore I have crossed it again!
Alas, tonight a martini! - dirty, generic gin, (since that's all I have in the cupboard and I am broke till Friday and my budget is so tight til christmas that anything i buy for myself is one less gift for a loved one - another story) with two spanish stuffed mmm ... uhhh olives with jalepeno!
It's been a week since we have talked or texted, and I sorely miss her. I know she is safe because I check in with my estranged husband daily. He has been sworn to disclose very little information about her, lest he get the "claw." I know she continues to make her decisions without my approval (not that it was requested or appreciated) be they good or bad (my opinion, of course). I hope that she is taking care of her legal obligations (this being what I want to know about most since it affects her future- and mine!).
She's always had a strong head on her shoulders, which includes a strong opinion, a strong voice, and most certainly, strong words. This is what makes up the best part of her character, and something I have always admired and encouraged. This isn't always an accepted character in society, especially in a woman, so I always treaded lightly while teaching her to use this magnificient weapon.
I had and probably still have a shelled existance. Wanting to make a difference and change the world, I revert to keeping the peace (and my mouth shut). I address issues in a round about way with my family and friends. If any one exhibits some sort of agitation or descent, I flee beneath a calm abiding - zen like - until the storm subsides. Sometimes the issue is addressed again; mostly it is set aside in polite manner until the same issue exhumes!
I then wonder why my life is in it's current state and why my problems still exist! So my ego has caged me for a week, unable to text (preferable communication tool at the moment) my daughter, fearing I have crossed a line with her and fearing that I have not crossed it soon enough so therefore I have crossed it again!
Alas, tonight a martini! - dirty, generic gin, (since that's all I have in the cupboard and I am broke till Friday and my budget is so tight til christmas that anything i buy for myself is one less gift for a loved one - another story) with two spanish stuffed mmm ... uhhh olives with jalepeno!
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