Sins of the Father

I just came to bed after a 2 hour long conversation with my father. There were angry words (mine), there were tears (ours), and there were apologies made (his). I told my father how I have been feeling, how interactions with him have left me feeling, cruel things that he has said, and his oblivious nature to everyone else around him. This time he heard me. He apologized and tried to explain things that he meant, vs things that he said. He explained that calling me sensitive was a compliment, not a weakness. He apologized for calling me a failure. He also apologized for confiding in me over and over about rebuilding a relationship with my brother, while the rest of us were chop liver. He explained where he was coming from, what he was trying to convey, and also realized that telling those particular thoughts and wishes he had about building a relationship with his son may not have been appropriate to share with one of the other siblings. He wasn't intentionally trying to be an asshole.

I have always known that it wasn't intentional, it has always been oblivion. But he also picks and chooses what he remembers, and if it doesn't directly involve him, his attention waivers.

I still feel like a stranger in this house, but now my father is aware of it. Maybe he and I can begin to work on some sort of relationship too.

We spent a little time talking about da Vinci, and it felt like it was common ground. My dad talking about the symbolism of the paintings, me pointing out painting techniques and mineral compounds used in his paint which also may have had religious significance. It was a safe topic, and it was much easier and more gentle than me calling him an absent father whoo leaves his disabled children stranded, and him countering that he and my mother doted on me hand and foot and perhaps I was spoiled and they were wrong to do so. That comment is actually what flung me right off the edge and into the "alright, that is just about enough out of you... Your perception is your own, but it is a far cry from my reality and I'm fucking tired of listening to you talk about things you know nothing about, just to hear yourself talk!"

It escalated pretty quickly, if I'm honest.

But it needed to. We both agreed that it was a long overdue expulsion of past hurts and lingering resentments that needed to be released. He thanked me for opening up and being honest with him. He teased he didn't think I'd take the transformation card quite so literally, and quite so immediately! I told him that he had no idea just how long this transformation had taken to get to where it is today.

Another step in a forward direction.

I told him he's paying for my therapy tomorrow. He laughed. I told him I wasn't kidding.

Enjoy the Journey

The word of the day is Journey. It's been permeating my entire weekend, really. For the past several days, my readings have had a focus of making journey's: salmon swimming upstream (the way is hard, but clear), boats being tossed about - getting a glimpse of eternity at the peak of a wave, and feeling small and lost in the belly of the very same wave (one constant arrival). Even my own musings of "the journey" when I didn't have much else to say.

I received a belated birthday gift this weekend as well, and it continues to follow the theme:

It was incredibly thoughtful, and definitely unexpected, as are most gifts I receive from those close to me are, as of late. "You seemed the obvious choice" as a recipient of a gift, no matter how seemingly small, is incredibly humbling and moving.

To pay forward the smiles I have received, I've started writing little notes to my friends and dropping them in the mail. No forewarning, and zero expectation of anything in return. Just a gentle touch to remind them they are thought of, and they are loved. That they too are "the obvious choice" to who I want to spend my time and energy on.

--------

This weekend I've also been dealing with a few uncomfortable realizations. There will always be "growing pains" along the way, but this weekend was pretty eye opening, and I'm left feeling a little bruised. I have always been aware of my fathers narcissism; his ego fueled rants about spiritualism and his "special-ness" and how it was never about wanting to share that connection with others - it was about showing off what he thought he had that made him "more" than the rest of us. But I was also aware of how generous he could be, when he puts his mind to it. I realized this weekend that his seeming good deeds came at a price, and that price just happened to be a relationship with me. In talking with my father, I teased him that I wanted to drop him off at PT and forget him there, just once, so we would be even. He was genuinely confused. I told him that after my knee surgery, he took me to PT a couple times, and promptly forgot to pick me up after. He said he had no recollection of that. He didn't even recall me having a knee surgery.

My jaw dropped. I had a major reconstruction of my knee, couldn't walk without assistance for 6 months, couldn't walk normally for a year, and during this time I LIVED IN HIS HOUSE. I was literally under his nose the entire time of my recovery, and he had no idea? I asked him if he remembered Kevin living in the basement (my father opened our home to an ex-con, saying he just needed a leg up to get back into society). He said he remembered that time very clearly. I reminded him that my knee surgery was 2 weeks before Kevin moved in, and that both mom and I thought it might not be the best idea to have a stranger move into the basement... but my father wasn't hearing any of us, other than his own agenda, and Kevin moved in. He said he didn't remember any of those concerns either, and said that he vaguely remembered I had a knee surgery after all. "Didn't your knees have the same issue as Tommy's?" My brother also dislocated his knees on occasion. "Yeah, Dad... Same issue as Tommy's... only mine was bad enough to warrant a major surgery to try to correct it..." Even my "issues" had to be overshadowed by making them about someone else... It wasn't my knee issue, it was my brothers knee issue. I asked him if he was aware that I had my wrist fused. He sort of laughed and said "yes, I know you had a wrist surgery." Okay, but did you know I actually had 3 wrist surgeries? "No... I only thought it was the one..."

I'm not saying I want my father to be all involved in my business. I don't. What I want is for my father to stop making bold claims about me and my siblings "Your sister was never artistic; You were always the most sensitive one" when in reality he doesn't know jack shit about us. He has confided in me countless times that he wants to rebuild his relationship with my brother, that he feels guilt and remorse that he wasn't really around when he felt my brother really needed him. But he has never, NEVER made any sort of effort towards rebuilding a relationship with my sister, and certainly not with me.

So this weekend I took a deep breath and stepped out of my comfort zone of silence yet again and lit my dad up. I was calm. I was not cruel. But I didn't hold back that his words are hurtful. That he does all of us a disservice when he pontificates about our strengths and weaknesses. That he doesn't know us at all. I think he heard me, but I'm not sure if he was listening.

I feel exceptionally awkward in this house now. It is not my home. I am a stranger living here out of my parents generosity. I am the latest ex-con who just needs a leg up to return to society. In this moment I am feeling incredibly small and sad. It really hurts to realize that in your own fathers eyes, you don't really amount to much of anything at all.

There is some old saying/wives tale/whatever that women often marry men just like their fathers. In my case, it seems to be true. While D will go on and on about how attentive he is, how he's the greatest husband ever, he doesn't hear me when I say I'm unhappy. He doesn't hear me at all. And he only sees what he wants to see in me.

------------

There have been a few conversations with various people lately that have sprung up about gifts and super powers. Abilities that are so glorious that they could be considered gifts. It has been such a blessing to be witness to the people I love the most in this world really come into their own within their strengths. But I've also been thinking about my own gifts and super powers... and right now in this moment, with everything I experienced with my father this weekend, I feel like my most dominant super power has always been invisibility.

I don't want to be invisible. I want to be seen. I want to be heard. I want to be acknowledged AS I AM, and I want to be comfortable to be me.

This part of the journey sucks. This part of the journey is hard.

But I'm here. I'm moving through these uncomfortable spaces, learning where I let myself down along the way, allowing myself to be forgiven, and letting it go.

My dad picked 3 angel cards this morning. Willingness. Power. Peace. He got all giddy when he picked the Power card, and sighed and said he "could use some of that" when he picked Peace. I looked over his cards.

You need to have a willingness to let go of power to achieve peace, Dad. 

He kind of nodded and scoffed. "Yeah, you're probably right. How about you pick one?"

Transformation. 

Change is only painful when we resist. This journey doesn't have to be a painful one. Now that I've vented out a lot of resentment and anger towards my father, I can let it go. 

Thank you for listening, whoever you are out there. 

Little Experiment Update

I mentioned little seeds I transplanted a few weeks ago, and have an update on their progress.

The seed that decided to throw out leaves before roots has long parished. It put on a good show, but with zero foundation and support, it didn't stand a chance. I feel that seed was like my past relationships. Flinging myself in head first, opening up and trying to make something happen without knowing what ground I stood on.

The seed that shot out a root remained dormant for quite some time. It started it's root structure first, testing the environment to ensure it was sustainable before starting to open up and grow. This little seed feels more like my approach to relationships now. Laying down a solid foundation, making sure the environment makes sense, taking my time without rushing in.

Little leaves.

17 hours, 18 minutes

After today's meditation, I have officially logged 17 hours and 18 dedicated minutes to my mindfulness practice. 90 meditation sessions. While that seems like a lot, I've only begun to realize that I have a long ways to go! I know "it's not the final destination, it's the journey," but I'm happy to be making this journey!

I don't have much else to say today...

A Gift From My Sister

I've had this post open most of the day, waiting for inspiration to hit. I feel compelled to talk about my sister, and an incredible gift she has given to me.

My sister has become an exceptional artist - born purely out of her own creativity and acceptance in letting go of her boundaries and self imposed limitations. She was the "smart one," my brother and I were the "artistic ones" - as deemed by those who thought they knew us. But the truth is that my sister is incredibly creative, and has a passion for the creative process that I have never seen before! Her life is so organized and meticulous, yet her creative process is messy and raw and she has finally found her safe place to relinquish all control, and it is such an amazing experience to bare witness to.

The gift is in the sharing. She has such a passion for this particular creative outlet, so much so that she wants to share it with others - to show them the beauty of letting go, of just trusting the process, of accepting and honoring what is, not what you think should be. There is profound medicine in the creative expression my sister has shared with me, and I am so moved. Moved and grateful! I have created a few of these pieces myself now, and I am growing addicted to the process! I want to move on to bigger canvases, mix my own palettes of color, and just pour my heart out!

The paintings I worked on with my sister while she was in town

For an example of the pieces we have been creating and the process it takes to complete them, here is a video that demonstrates the technique used.

Today...

Today is a day, like every other day,

brimming with possibility. A day

to treat people with kindness

and respect. A day to move closer to 

fulfilling your dreams. A day to forgive

yourself for absolutely everything. 

A day to smile with gratitude.

Today is a day, like every other day,

to create the kind of life you want

to live, the kind that makes you feel

good and right, the kind of life

you were born to realize. Today. 

-Scott Stabile

Author of BIG LOVE

Crabby Pants

Man, I am just not feeling it today. My guided meditation left me feeling disconnected and a little sad (it was regarding building and appreciating our communities of support we create for ourselves). My daily reading was about having The Courage to Join, also referencing connection to the universe as a whole, as honoring everything we come into contact with as family (a Native American philosophy on healing). My angel card was Responsibility.

The real story comes from a love-source

that cannot be understood with intellect, but

known only as a person is known.

-Coleman Barks

I just seem to have woken up in a bit of a funk. I've been trying to let whatever negative feelings I have bubble to the surface so they can have their moment in the place of honor, be acknowledged, then released. Talking about some very personal and difficult life experiences yesterday cracked open a can of vulnerability, and has been a catalyst for some of these other brooding, crabby thoughts to push forward. 

As I logged into work this morning I noticed there was an update on the calendar. My co-worker is having his annual review today. I found myself seething a little... This would have been the appropriate time for my annual review as well, and the raise that had been promised and pushed back from the 60 day mark. Instead of a raise, I'm being replaced. I thought I had dealt with my initial feelings of betrayal last week, but today I find them popping back up and shadowing my mood. As I was reading along about the oneness of the universe, and all things being connected and beautiful, I caught myself frowning and thinking "yeah, until the universe takes a beautiful shit on your life and you're the one stuck cleaning it up." Clearly I am not in the most receptive, zen enlightened state at the moment. I feel prickly, and I'm trying to understand why. 

I talked with a friend this morning, and in the course of that conversation I had a couple thoughts about why I seem to have stumbled myself right off the tracks. Part of it is the aftermath of caring for my parents. I have been stuck in a pretty constant state if unknowing and high stress for the past couple months. There have been important/significant losses along the way too. But as the seas of my life start to calm in this moment, I'm finding the transition to be a difficult one. I'm trying to down shift out of that higher gear that I have been functioning in for an extended period of time, and I'm just left feeling like the bottom has dropped out. I don't know what to do with myself at times, and it's a little unnerving. There are big changes on the horizon, and I'm coiled like a cat ready to pounce on those opportunities for change. But I have to wait. Not long, but I have to wait to act. I've been functioning on this high pitched, nearly frantic frequency, and I just have to be patient. Mom always said when I was little: Patience isn't the ability to wait. It's the ability to have a good attitude while waiting. She's not wrong. There is so much truth to that. 

But every once in a while I'm just not in a great mood, and that's okay too. 

Only now I don't have the same reaction as before. Previously, when bad moods hit, I would hide myself away, pretend everything was fine. Fester and scowl alone. Now I don't want to do that. I want to acknowledge that I'm in a bad mood, try to understand the why, and what can I do to change it? I don't want to hide myself away. If anything, I crave being near my friends more than anything right now. I need my community, my circle. And it is my responsibility to be the one to reach out, to say that I need support in this moment. 

Okay Universe. I'm done being a crabby pants for now. And that shit you took? It's okay. Everybody poops. Lets work together to get it cleaned up. 

A Blessing for New Beginnings

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,

Where your thoughts never think to wander,

This beginning has been quietly forming, 

Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,

Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,

Noticing how you willed yourself on,

Still unable to leave what you had outgrown. 

It watched you play with the seduction of safety

And the gray promises that sameness whispered,

Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,

Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream,

A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear

You can trust the promise of this opening;

Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning

That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;

Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

~John O'Donohue

Love Like Water

After re-reading yesterdays post, I keep coming back to something... Being accepted "as is." I have had more than one romantic partner (and non romantic partners too) refer to me as damaged goods and broken. These things were said to my face, and those beliefs were reinforced in the way I allowed these people to treat me. I take full responsibility for my actions here... I let them treat me that way. I refuse to hide behind being the victim - bad things happened and I let them. Do not misunderstand me - I am not victim blaming anyone else here - I am only speaking of myself and my own experiences. And that's not to say I asked for bad things to happen to me, not directly anyways.

I did not ask to be drugged and raped in a room full of strangers watching. I did not deserve to have that experience. But I also refuse to let that moment in time define the rest of my life. I can't be the victim of that circumstance, and I refuse to use that term. Survivor? Yes. Victim? Fuck no. Shortly after it happened I was traumatized to the point I refused to leave the house. 2 months I stayed in my townhouse. I stopped attending classes. I stopped going out. My boyfriend of the time and I broke up shortly after it happened - it was my fault in his eyes: I had been unfaithful. Not to mention his drinking becoming out of control. He took one swing at me at a drunken rage and I was done. I called the police. After the breakup and agoraphobia, I made the decision not to be the victim anymore. So I went to the Dean of Students and told them what happened. I had to sit down in front of books and books of fraternity class pictures, being asked "who was it" and the campus security and police rolling their eyes when I couldn't produce a face and a name. I dropped out of school (with my semesters tuition returned to my parents, and a letter of recommendation from the Dean to where ever I wanted to transfer to) and I moved home. I felt pretty defeated at that point, but I wasn't beat. I still had fight left in me to brush myself off and start again.

After that I was a little more guarded towards people, but I always had this overwhelming sense that I had so much love to give the world, and by cutting myself off from people, I was essentially damming up the flow of what I had to give. What good does that do? I offer Mark Nepo's thoughts:

Most things break instead of transform because they resist. The quiet miracle of love is that without our interference, it, like water, accepts whatever is tossed or dropped in or placed into it, embracing it completely.
In truth, the more we let love flow through, the more we have to love. This is the inner glow that sages and saints of all ages seem to share: the wash of their love over everything before them; not just people, but birds and rocks and flowers and air.
Beneath the many choices we have to make, love, like water, flows back into the world through us. It is the one great secret available to all. Yet somewhere the misperception has been enshrined that to withhold love will stop hurt. In truth, it is the other way around. As water soaks scars, love soothes our wounds. If opened to, love will accept the angrily thrown stone, and our small tears will lose some of their burn in the great ocean of tears, and the arrow released to the bottom of the river will lose its point. 

I want to love like water. Letting it flow from me and touching everything around me. Accepting myself and all others "as is." I am not naive, however. I know what is necessary for my own needs to be met, not to be a doormat, taken advantage of. But that doesn't mean I have to stop loving people exactly as they are in each moment - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Richard Rohr offers a similar sentiment:

When we truly love, we simply love, regardless of the worthiness or value of the object. No wonder that we speak of being "in love," because it is a state of being more than an occasional, deliberate action. It will often feel like wonder, and our eyes will be temporarily wide open and receptive.
A similar thing happens in the presence of great suffering and grief. The many forms of dying also pull us into the Now, even though I hate to admit it. I know none of us like it, but simple suffering (not getting our way) is often the quickest and longest-lasting form of transformation into love. 

In my present existence, my life is about the transformation into love - and letting that love flow through me and from me, with no expectation of return.

I am Loved. 

Playing Small

There will never be an "us"

if I play small.

-Sharon Preiss

In Dante's Divine Comedy, the only difference between the lovers who find themselves enduring Hell and the lovers working their way through Paradise is that those in Hell have no individual center, and so they spin in endless identification with each other. 

Hard as it is, we cannot shrink from our relationships or we simply become an audience or gofer for the dominant partner or friend. Like most of us, I have struggled with this my whole life: fearful of what might happen if I actually voice my concerns and needs, surprised that doing so - while not always easy or pleasant - always enables me to be myself more fully. 

Then, not by chance, I'm always more able to feel and see the world around me. I bring more to the scene and am revitalized more readily by my daily experience. 

The great philosopher Martin Buber, who believed that God is most deeply known through relationship, spoke to the heart of this paradox. He said that before there can be a true relationship, there must be two separate beings who can relate. Most of our life experience bears this out. Unless we work to be ourselves, we can never truly know others or the numinous world we live in. 

-Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening

Today's reading seems fitting, as I've been spending a little time thinking about relationships lately. My roles in them in the past, my roles in them now, and how I have grown as a person within many of my relationships (and regressed in others). My relationship with my parents is strange. In the past week, I have come to realize just how little my parents really know me. How the distance with my mother is by request. How the distance with my father is due to ignorance and narcissism. My mother says she wants to know, but doesn't really want to know, so she sets up these weird rules and boundaries to protect herself. She's done it my whole life, so this is nothing new. The reaching out is new, but once she does it, she pretty quickly recoils back into herself. She's growing too, so I don't resent her for her efforts, even when they appear to fail. I have always "played small" to my parents, but I find myself speaking up more and more. Pointing out how their preconceived notions of me are inaccurate, letting them know where my strengths really are, not where they think they should be. It's awkward, but I feel like there has been so much less tiptoeing around since I moved back, in spite of my mothers continued "I don't want to know" stance. 

My relationship with my spouse was (and is) all kinds of fucked up. When we started dating, I was proud, confident, and sure of who I was and what I wanted. But then the pregnancy happened and I felt my whole self drain out of my body when that baby did. I fell so deeply into depression that I no longer cared about anything. I was completely hollow inside, but no one knew. I had hidden it so well behind fake excitement about getting married, pretending everything was fine. That I was fine. I grew so small in my relationship with my spouse that I became his puppet. His doll. And that was exactly what he wanted from me. Me shrinking inside of myself gave him this false sense of dominance. I was still responsible for the hard decisions and managing the household, but he didn't have anyone to answer to about his hobbies, his needs, his wants. He was spoiled and perfectly happy. And he thought I was happy too. Which just shows how little he knew (and currently knows) about me. Bitter sarcasm is what he thinks I am made of, and when we got engaged and were married, that was very true. But that's not who I want to be. Not what I want. He can't offer me what I need, and I feel like our relationship has been Dante's couple in Hell, spinning around each other in some bizarre codependency. Him chasing the fantasy of me, and my true self being shrunk down so small that all I could do was play along. 

Not anymore. And not for some time.

I kept putting my foot down, then shrinking back from it (sound familiar? This is a learned trait from my codependent relationship with my mother!). But I really put my foot down when I moved to MN. I made the decision to save my own life and did whatever I had to in order to get there. Moving back hasn't felt like shrinking away from it again, and I'm making sure that doesn't happen. I'm taking the steps I have to in order to wrap this up and get on with living. 

During this process I am rediscovering myself along the way. I have felt more genuinely myself, and my current relationships show for it. I feel more comfortable, more honest, more... present. And I'm not ashamed to show up exactly as I am. I continue to grow, no longer playing small. And as I continue to grow more confident in my truer form of self, I continue to relate to others, to find the "True Relationship" outside of the very broken image of what I thought it was supposed to be. I had it all wrong - no wonder my marriage didn't stand a chance (other than the obvious glaring faults and issues, haha). All of my relationships suffered, not just the romantic ones. But to have this stance, to be true to myself and be who I am in this moment... to be accepted "as is," really feels like freedom. 

Freedom feels good. 

Music

I've been listening to some pretty random stuff today. So here's a sampling of what has moved me: 

And because this video makes me smile, I'll include this too:

Mother Knows Best... Or Does She?

Today I haven't felt like doing anything. Luckily my mother had removed all the yummy junk food from the house so I couldn't just eat away my unhappiness. Nothing sounded good anyways, so there's that. I did eat a large salad for lunch that was pretty tasty, so at least I'm "eating my feelings" with healthier choices. I'm feeling pretty huge again on the scale front, so feeling anger is a good motivator to get moving. The weather is starting to break a bit, so going outside for walks is back on the radar. I'm physically (and financially) not ready to hit the gym again, so it's good to start somewhere.

I told my mother about my work situation this morning. She got a little teary when I did, that my boss doesn't want me to go, but it's just how that cookie has started to crumble. She started brainstorming ideas and said that while working remotely may have been a blessing as I transitioned back to MI, she didn't think it was my calling. She went on to say that she really thinks I would do better in an office setting, that I need the one on one interaction with people, and that I am better suited to dealing with customer service issues in a face to face setting. I must have made a face... I KNOW I made a face... I winced, and she asked if she was wrong.

I told her she was wrong in her personal assessment of what she thought I needed, what she thought would be best for me. She looked a little hurt and I explained to her that working with people in person is extremely hard for me. That while I loved working at the bank, it was a constant reminder all day every day that there is something "wrong" with me - and that people felt I owed them an explanation. "Whats with the rings?" "Why are you wearing a brace?" "What's wrong with you, you don't act sick..." There was one day in MN at the bank that my branch manager asked me if I wanted to go take a break for a minute, as every single person in my queue for a solid 45 minutes asked about my hands. Every. Single. One. And while telling people to mind their own fucking business seems like a logical response, my position within the company did not allow for something like that. I was expected to nod and smile and give little pieces of myself away to complete strangers. I don't want to do that anymore.

She said she hadn't even considered that part, and she apologized for assuming she knew what it was like to be me. I told her I wasn't offended, but I also can't just go along with what she deems as "best for me" because she isn't living in my body, or experiencing the things that I am. I mentioned private call centers or something like that. I don't want to do sales. I briefly touched on making another attempt at disability, and she asked if it would be enough to live off of. I told her it entirely depends on what amount they approve me for, if they approve me. She told me I should find out how much it would cost to have a lawyer help me with my submission, to get it pushed through. I told her I would look into it again.

I'm so tired this week. Like someone has just pushed me to the bottom of a pool and I'm flailing in slow motion, yet the pressure is building. I'm trying not to let it get to me. I can feel myself getting gun shy, waiting for the next thing to go sideways, but I also don't want to live that way. I've been there, done that, and my adrenals paid the price.

This mornings meditation was on "conflict resolution in the work place" and I literally laughed. Then I realized that my initial feelings of hurt and betrayal were valid. I had every right to feel upset with the way the situation played out. Yet I chose release and truth as my means of dealing with it. I was honest with my boss about how it made me feel, but I was calm and thoughtful. I didn't criticize him as a person, as a professional over all, simply stated my disappointment in his execution and that I felt my trust had been broken. He was receptive and understood where I was coming from. He admitted he went about it the wrong way, and apologized for not including me. So... Yay? That still doesn't change the fact that I'm now left with a big fat question mark of what do I do now... but at least no bridges have been burned.

Open Position

I guess I haven't had much to say lately. I've been doing my meditations and daily readings, I've spent a lot of time in prayer, and I've just been working on getting even keel again.

So of course I would have to answer a work call today where a woman said she had interviewed with my boss for the open position and would like to know next steps...

Open position?

Suddenly all the anonymous appointments on his calendar listed as "personal" made sense. Not only that, but my coworker has also been acting shady and secretive lately too. I felt completely hurt and betrayed that they would keep this from me.

The fact that they are interviewing doesn't bother me. We knew this was likely to be a temporary gig, and we made it last as long as we could. Without a hefty financial investment from my boss, I've really come about as far as I can. But I was supposed to be part of the process of finding my replacement, so to hold interviews behind my back really hurts. I trusted these people, and now I just feel stupid for doing so. I spoke to my boss and he assured me it isn't about performance, that all his clients love me, blah blah blah... But it's about distance. There is enough work in house that they need another body in the office to get things done. I get that. It still stings.

One of my recent readings was about being like a spring creek: flowing, flexible, and moving through things. When a branch crashes into a creek, it makes a little splash, but quickly settles back down and moves on. At times the creek will freeze over, and when the branches fall, the water breaks - shattering into sharp shards. But even those razor edged slivers of hurt and sadness will thaw back into the gentle creek.

I know right now I'm bristled from the initial shock of being blindsided by betrayal... That branch fell square into my frozen self, and a feel a little jarred and splintered because of it. But I also feel very calm, and have already forgiven by boss. His intentions, while misguided, really were good. He wanted to delay hurting my feelings, delay having to move on, delay letting me go.

But we can't always bury our head in the sand and will away a situation we don't want to deal with.

So now I get to start thinking about what to do next. Do I start looking for work now? Do I recollect all my medical records and attempt to file for disability again? Where do I go from here? I have a little time left at my current position... but now I need to start thinking about what to do with a little more urgency.

A Little Experiment

My son has an interest in plants. In the spring he is nearly giddy with the thought of going to a greenhouse to pick out flowers for the front yard. He has lately been trying to grow any seed he comes in contact with. I have encouraged his interest, and there have been many trials and errors (mostly errors) and he tries to figure out germination.

Our latest little experiment were orange seeds. He kept the seeds from an orange he ate at lunch and carefully wrapped them in paper to be transported home. We put the seeds on a damp paper towel in a drinking glass and popped that sucker on top of the fridge. We'd been checking the moisture every other day, and he'd been watching intently for any signs of growth.

But he is 8, and after the first couple weeks, he got tired of waiting and watching with very minimal result. He lost interest in his project and asked if we could try an avocado seed instead. I told him to be patient, that growth takes time. He sort of rolled his eyes at me, muttered "fine..." and walked away.

2 days ago, after continued monitoring by myself, 2 of our little seeds sprouted. One sent out a bold root, the other has minimal roots, but has put forth a tentative little leaf.

God has been merciful today by lining up the lessons of the day gently, softly... He's set down the frying pan just for today and I am so thankful and grateful! My reading today was about turning light into food. It touched briefly on photosynthesis in the plant world, but then reflected on the photosynthesis in our own lives: "The smallest plant life in spring reveals to us both the challenge of being a spirit in human form and the quiet courage necessary to grow inwardly." -Mark Nepo

We still might feed the dark thing in us

that grows away from the light

until against all sense

we mysteriously flower

in the other direction.

I may not be in full bloom, or even beginning to bud yet, but I hope to one day. I have hope, and that is a beautiful unfurling all on it's own. 

The little seeds have a long way to go, as do I. But today I transplanted them from their paper towel into a little pot of soil to offer support as they continue their journey of growth. I'm not sure what my metaphorical "pot of soil" is just yet... But I suspect I am planted exactly where I need to be to continue growing with confidence. 

Numbness

The line between living and watching is very thin. A moment's rest or pause for reflection can spread into a thickness of hesitation, and the next thing we know, reaching out or saying something or picking up the phone or stopping by unannounced is difficult, as if there is suddenly some huge wall to climb just to be heard...
...But when we obey the feelings of hesitation and separation more powerfully than those of love, we start to experience numbness and depression.

Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening, April 9th reading excerpts

Numbness. Numbness is what kept me alive for several years. The ability to wrap myself into a cocoon of depression and numbness to block out enough to keep me sane. But numbness is also what kept me from really living too. I've been so embarrassed by the hold depression had on me for so long. I have seen and felt the frustration of my loved ones as they watched me flounder along, so desperately unhappy, yet also unable to take control and really do something about it. "Why haven't you done this seemingly simple thing to be free and to finally be happy yet?" 

Because I couldn't. There isn't a single explanation or reason. I just... couldn't. 

But things have changed. I'm taking the concrete steps I need to take to get it together, and get it done. I am no longer a prisoner of depression and numbness. I am no longer simply trying to survive. I'm finally ready to live. 

Speaking of living... Having spent a little quality time with death, I think there are a few important things I've discovered/remembered/accepted this week especially: 

I'm not afraid of death. Me and death seem to be friendly acquaintances now. Not quite friends, but we do that head nod thing at gatherings to acknowledge each other. I flinch at the uncertainty of certain aspects of death, but I'm not afraid of dying. Don't get me wrong, death still sucks for the most part, but the simple act of the body ceasing to function and the spirit moving forward in grace is natural and beautiful to me. It's the emotional aftermath part of the surviving parties that pushes me towards those feelings of uncertainty or anxiety. My subconscious has been playing some pretty strange tricks on me lately while I'm trying to sleep, and I've had a very specific dream twice now. It always ends the same, and I always wake with a feeling of not belonging. Perhaps feeling like I don't belong is where my fear lies. 

I am learning to embrace uncertainty. If nothing else, last week was a reminder of the truth that nothing on this earth is solid. Everything is transitory. Everything is constantly changing, whether we're aware of it or not, and whether we like it or not. Life is just one phase and change after another, and while there were times I have felt myself getting sucked under with the enormity of it all coming at me seemingly at once, I have fully allowed myself to embrace my faith - the one solid constant in the flux of a life chaotic. In the calm and stillness of the eye of the storm, that is where God is. 

I'm stronger than I thought. In the past I questioned my own strength and hid in my depression to avoid doing the hard work. But now that I've stepped forward into my life, I've realized that I am much stronger than I previously gave myself credit for. Or perhaps I'm just stronger now than I was before. Either way, I am beginning to appreciate my capabilities a little bit more every day. 

Numbness was my escapist addiction. I don't need it or even want anything to do with it anymore. I have grown to love feeling, and I never want it to go away. I want to experience and embrace it all. "Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final." Rainer Maria Rilke

Wow. I'm really tired now. Perhaps tonight I will have sweet dreams (or none at all) as I've allowed myself to vent some of my inner swirling thoughts. Release the pressure valve a bit! 

What Do You Do Then?

Take notice of whats happening in the mind. This moment is nothing other than your life. This is whats happening right now. It's actually quite profound. So if you find yourself resisting something that is going on, or wanting to feel a certain way, to feel peaceful or quiet, remember that's not the point of practice. If we're trying to make something happen, we're not accepting what's in this moment. And when we reject our present moment experience, we're creating a new sort of suffering. Open to each moment, without expectation, so there is a continual letting go of the past as each new moment emerges. Welcome each moment, whatever it looks like. Welcome it if it's messy or confusing or busy or uncomfortable. Accept each moment as it is.  

Today I'd like to talk about the difficulty of acceptance and to explore this theme, I'll share a question I was recently asked, which is: There's one mindfulness principle I really struggle with. I know we're supposed to live in the present, but what if the present is horrible? What do you do then? So this is a very important question and I want to offer my empathy and support to anyone who is enduring difficulty or suffering of any kind. Its a monumental challenge to stay present when whats in our experience is painful. There's never a reason to accept the present if there's something we can do to change it. But the fact is, sometimes change isn't possible. Often whatever is taking place is happening whether we like it or not! So we have 3 choices as to how to respond. We can either choose to accept a situation, we can change it, or we can leave. Sometimes we can find opportunities to change a situation. When destitute, we can seek help. When in pain, we can seek a remedy. We always want to make skillful decisions to improve our circumstances. Or make the wise decision to leave our situation when appropriate. But sometimes there's simply nothing we can do about our circumstances. And when we can't leave, and the situation won't change, all we can do is accept. Because if we don't accept, we're resisting, and that resistance simply amplifies our suffering. If we're experiencing pain or bearing a hardship, the kindest most compassionate thing we can do for ourselves is to get present, and to gently move into acceptance. And this doesn't mean that we should sit down and surrender. It means facing our circumstances with honesty and compassion. It means saying Okay, this is what's happening right now and rather than adding to my suffering by resisting what is, I'll embrace the present, understanding that all things will eventually change. As Wayne Dyer poetically stated, "Enlightenment is the quiet acceptance of what is."

Tamara Levitt, Daily Calm Meditation

I've been trying very hard to practice my mindfulness techniques while navigating my way through this past week. It has completely flown by, at an uncomfortable rate, and I'm just now starting to really allow myself to acknowledge and feel and experience everything that has happened. I've tried so hard to remain present each step of the way, but in that presence I also held back a little - deeming certain times more appropriate than others to really allow myself to be present AND to fully embrace how I was feeling in that present moment. It's a work in progress, but I also needed to be functional!

When asked how I've been feeling, the first thought that comes to mind is restless. Experiencing today's meditation made me realize that is isn't just restlessness, it's resistance. Resistance to acknowledge how I'm feeling, resistance to vocalize how I'm feeling, resistance to accept how I'm feeling... and the helplessness that comes with not being able to do a damn thing about any of it. I am sitting in the middle of that "challenging experience" and I've been struggling with letting go of it all. Accepting what is. Really looking at where things are for me. I have to stop trying to force myself to feel one way, just as I have to stop holding myself back from feeling another. Simply accepting what is in this present moment. 

The Courage of the Seed

Mark Nepo - The Book of Awakening; April 5th

The Courage of the Seed

All the buried seeds
crack open in the dark
the instant they surrender
to a process they can't see.

What a powerful lesson is the beginning of spring. All around us, everything small and buried surrenders to a process that none of the buried parts can see. And this innate surrender allows everything edible and fragrant to break ground into a life of light that we call spring. 

In nature, we are quietly given countless models of how to give ourselves over to what appears to be dark and hopeless, but which ultimately is an awakening that is beyond all imagining. Moving through the dark into blossom is the threshold to God. 

As a seed buried in the earth cannot imagine itself as an orchid or a hyacinth, neither can a heart packed with hurt imagine itself loved or at peace. The courage of the seed is that once cracking, it cracks all the way. 

It's been an interesting couple of days. My sister sent me a quote early yesterday, and it resonates with the universal message of "courage" that seems to be springing up for me this week.

"Without courage we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can't be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest." -Maya Angelou

I'm struggling to find the words for what I experienced yesterday. The funeral was very different... It was a catholic ceremony in the church they have attended for over 30 years. They were active members, so the priest knew him well. He was also a veteran, and a very active member of the Legion Riders, so the parish was filled with men and women either in dress blues, or wearing their leather biker vests with pride. Sprinkle in a couple parish blue haired ladies and other family and friends. It was an interesting gathering of people, but the love was there. I didn't shed any tears during the visitation. And the moment that got me at the funeral was when they were folding the flag to present to his wife. These were not young soldiers... These were old veterans, their hands and bodies crooked with age and arthritis. They took such care folding that flag - ceremoniously removing every crease and wrinkle. You could see the pain in their hands nearly matched the pain in their hearts. This was their friend. It was beautiful and also devastating to watch. After the presentation of the flag, there was a 21 gun salute outside the church. 

I'm not going to get into my feelings on mixing church and state. That is a topic for another day... But the way they were able to incorporate 2 things that meant so much to him - his faith and his country - into one ceremony was quite beautiful. 

Afterwards I bit the bullet and went to the mercy luncheon held at the Legion post. The mean lady was there. She's one of the bartenders and my heart definitely softened towards her. I said nothing to her, and the family is unaware of the previous event. They don't ever need to know, and I have let it go. I spent the afternoon with family and friends, everyone visibly exhausted, but also a little relieved. 

After the funeral stuff was done, I spent a little time with additional family and friends, taking a few moments to celebrate my birthday. 

Last night as I was considering going to bed, my brother called and asked if he could swing by. He said he felt awful for not wishing me a happy birthday all day, and I told him it wasn't a problem. He had bigger things on his mind and I wasn't offended in the slightest. He apologized again, thinking he had somehow disappointed me. This wasn't the first apology I had gotten about my birthday that day, but I really tried to express to him (and to others) that I got to spend my day surrounded by my favorite people, even for a little while, so it was a good birthday. He said he really appreciated me stepping up and helping him navigate through the past 4 days. 

We looked at each other and just understood... This was the practice run for our own father. 

And as I listened to my father vomiting yet again this morning, the reality of his frailty is really starting to sink in. One step forward, two steps back... And as I witnessed with my SIL's father, it could all go sideways in a hurry. 2 weeks ago the oncologist gave him "maybe 3 years." It wasn't even 3 weeks later and he was gone. Things could move very quickly with my father, but I feel comfort knowing that my brother and I make a good team - and my sister is an excellent ring leader! When my father passes, I have confidence in my siblings and I to take care of what needs to be taken care of - to do as much as possible so my mother doesn't have to worry. 

Maybe courage comes forward in this experience after all. We are all cracking open in the darkness of the unknown... 

A Blessing For Grief

When you lose someone you love,

Your life becomes strange,

The ground beneath you gets fragile,

Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;

And some dead echo drags your voice down

Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown heavy with loss;

And though this loss has wounded others too,

No one knows what has been taken from you

When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret

For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;

Again inside the fullness of life,

Until the moment breaks

And you are thrown back

Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,

You are able to function well

Until in the middle of work or encounter,

Suddenly with no warning,

You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.

All you can depend on now is that

Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.

More than you, it knows its way

And will find the right time

To pull and pull the rope of grief

Until that coiled hill of tears

Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance

With the invisible form of your departed;

And when the work of grief is done,

The wound of loss will heal

And you will have learned

To wean your eyes

From that gap in the air

And be able to enter the hearth

In your soul where your loved one

Has awaited your return

All the time.

-John O'Donohue

We Share the Same River

From Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening - April 2

I was traveling in South Africa and felt very tender one morning, when my friend Kim came upon me as I was weeping. She asked if I was okay. I told her it was only the waters of life splashing up my shore. Later that day, I found her near tears and checked in with her. She said, "The river's now in me."
We looked into each other and realized that we all share the same river. If flows beneath us and through us, from one dry heart to the next. We share the same river. It makes the Earth one living thing.
The whole of life has a power to soften and open us against our will, to irrigate our spirits, and in those moments, we discover that tears, the water from within, are a common blood, mysterious and clear. We may speak different languages and live very different lives, but when that deep water swells to the surface, it pulls us to each other.
We share the same river, and where it enters, we lose our stubbornness the way fists wear open when held under in the stream of love.

The river's now in me.