Feelings, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa Feelings

In lower and middle school, I took piano lessons.  When I quit lessons, there were just a few remaining songs that I could sit down and play by memory.  "The Rose", "You Light Up My Life" and "Feelings" were the emotional songs that I sat down and belted out every word.  I think there was a Barry Manilow in the repertoire as well, of course! {giggle}

I'm finding the irony of how enamored I was with those heart wrenching sentimental songs and where I am now.  I have come full circle.

Somewhere along the way from childhood on and most especially after a terrible bout of Postpartum Depression, I shut down allowing myself to experience a full range of feelings or what I like to now call by the proper name of energy.  Feelings are just energy, plain and simple.  Society and those persons closest to us, tell us not to cry, not to be angry and ignore the anxiety and Just Do It.  It's both a natural reaction to cry but also it seems to try and stop someone from having an emotional catharsis.  How many times have you seen someone apologize for making someone cry or apologize for crying oneself and then making a joke about it?  It can go to the extreme though, as a good portion of America now numbs itself with compulsions or addictions.  Nowadays, there are more compulsions that you can shake a stick at.  The old standards are still there: alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, cleaning, exercising and newer ones with that have crept in with technology, all so we can avoid ourselves and the emotional energy that naturally comes up in life.  We are turning away from ourselves (and the Divinity within).  And it takes a lot of practice to turn towards oneself again.

For years, I have been listening to a marvelous teacher named Mary O'Malley, a therapist in Washington State.  In interviews, videos, and articles, Ms. O'Malley states that in essence befriending and being curious with the compulsion is the way through, not trying to fight it head on but rather using curiosity and compassion.

Curiosity and compassion towards myself? Are you kidding? How contradictory is this to the message from the diet industry which owns my compulsion:  restrict, and deny yourself through eating.   As then there is the Western mentality of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and white knuckling through whatever. 

I have been missing the curiosity and compassion component for years even though I had heard of it. I had no idea of how to do it.  I figured out I needed to feel my feelings so I started gutting myself through all of them.  I learned that anger is a sign that boundaries are being tread on and so I took different actions with certain people.   I faced anxiety and deep sadness head on.  I cried buckets, and sat with discomfort that I wanted to escape from more than anything.  A true bonus though, was learning that joy was in this mix of energy too.  I began to feel utter joy from simple encounters with my family, friends and nature because when you turn away and numb, you numb everything.

What Ms. O'Malley points out is that we judge our energy (feelings) and that keeps us in the vicious cycle.

I JUDGE MYSELF FOR HAVING THE ENERGY THAT COMES!

I'm screaming this because I need that to sink in as I practice acceptance. 

She describes four kinds of movements in regards to energy.  The first is anger that I'm not getting what I want.  The second is fear and I'm getting what I don't want.  The third is despair/sadness that I will never get what I want.  Lastly, Mary says the glue that holds them all together is judgement.

We want to escape the anger, sadness, fear and we try to think ourselves out of the shame, guilt and whatever else is associated with it.  In my head, I think so very many derogatory thoughts of myself.  Why am I feeling this way, no one else is?  I need to get over this.  I am so pitiful.  What can't I be stronger, etc. etc.  I beat myself up.  Let's just pile it on. That will make things better. NOT.

Ms. O'Malley does a brilliant in depth explanation of the next step and more in her book, The Gift of Our Compulsions, if you are so inclined.  I had a simple event recently that highlighted the act of compassion towards myself.  I know Mary knows what she is talking about but knowing and experiencing the phenomena are two completely different things.  Both of my kids went off in different directions for the first week of summer.  Four years ago on a Sunday,  I watched Mallory drive off on a bus towards camp, a destination 6 hours away for the first time, and I cried uncontrollably.  I couldn't contain it, and I couldn't pull it together to attend church.  Four years later, we were going to church on another Sunday, yet Mallory was already gone to Texas and we were going to be bringing Riley to catch the bus for a weeklong mission trip. As I got dressed that morning, I immediately experienced a strong wave of "I've got to cry" sadness.

And then something brilliant happened if I do say so myself.  In that wave, I immediately accepted the fact that I was going to cry my eyes out and deemed that it was okay.  NO BIG DEAL. I packed up makeup to refresh myself so that I could go to church.  And I went on with my morning and the sad wave of energy passed.

I didn't resist the energy, or judge it.  I know how much I love my girls and I'm watching them grow up and be independent, which I didn't learn until my forties.  Four years ago,  I was probably crying for my own self who was scared of everything and transferring it to Mallory. She was totally fine and excited. But it doesn't matter why I cried.  This time,  I ACCEPTED IT.  My goal here is self acceptance and love.

Energy comes and goes. Learning compassion and curiosity towards myself, opens my heart to those around me and in the world.  It's my new practice.

Feelings, whoa, whoa, whoa feelings.  Again in my heart.

Namaste.

The Divine Dance in the Donut Shop

I was having a hard time emotionally yesterday.  I went to Mallory's school in the morning for a program and then I had to return in the afternoon for another program.  On occasion, I have been blindsided by feelings that come up when I go to campus as Riley is no longer there.  When I see high school uniforms, I immediately think, oh, where is she? And then I remember... she's across town.

Anger, resentment and sadness bubble up and sit on my chest.  With ten years under our belt, I never planned to change schools but it was an absolute necessity.  I am resentful that it did not work out. I am sad that she felt like she didn't belong.  (And on a deeper level, it's about me feeling like I didn't belong)  She and I have discussed it any amount of times to understand it just wasn't a good fit for her.  Her personality didn't mesh with her particular grade.  Yet I want this energy of anger and sadness to GO AWAY but I know I have to allow them to flow through and not fight it.  I asked one of my bests friends, to please tell me that I'm not crazy for feeling this way.  (Even when I know, feelings are just energy and they will flow through)  I was lucky that she happens to have a friend in a similar position that has expressed similar sentiments to mine.  But the unwelcomed energy still sat there.  I broached the subject with Riley on our ride home and she, of course, knew where I was coming from.  She at fifteen is growing up, maturing and now that she is in a better place, our relationship is more mature and we can communicate better. (of course it still has it's moments!!)

That afternoon, I walked with my neighbor and the movement and conversation helped my spirits but heaviness still sat on my chest.  It is grief, not as deep as losing a loved one but it is grief nonetheless and as the case with grieving, it shows up in waves when you least expect it.

This morning before school, Mallory and I took a very last minute detour to the donut shop to bring some for a school party.  It was very off the cuff last minute decision.  We ran into several school acquaintances who were doing the same.  I asked one friendly acquaintance how she was doing.  And then she inquired how Riley was doing at the new school.  I answered that she was doing well and it was working out so far. She said some schools are just not a fit for everyone. And then, I took a big risk and mentioned my resentful feelings.

And this is where the God wink begins.

My risk of vulnerability paid off, and she acknowledged my feelings. I don't even remember exactly what was said, but I  felt heard and she understood the quagmire of one child leaving a school and one child remaining there.

It was music to my heart.

Side Note: It is very important to save heartfelt emotions to share with someone who deserves the right to hear it. Otherwise, you walk away feeling worse. All people need and want to be heard and have their feelings acknowledged. 

After I dropped Mallory off at school, I texted this friend  to thank her for her insight and understanding.  And the God wink continued when she texted back and said that anyone should understand the situation and that she missed seeing Riley's smiling face on campus.

Whoa. Cue the really ugly cry which I needed to have so very much.  I cried immediately and deeply and the energy moved through for the most part.  It was the right timing. It was divine timing.  It was the right moment, right person to show a bit of compassion for it to flow.

I see a God wink as the holy spirit doing it's thing.  I have learned to attribute these types of interactions as a divine interaction.  I understand the "dance" of the Trinity.  Father, Son and Holy Ghost.  I acknowledge a divine flow.  It's the practice of continually learning to let go, and things will not necessarily happen as I want them to, but my needs are answered in unexpected ways in their own time and I feel a peace for a short time that is indescribable.  And I work again, to let go.  It's a continual progression.

I am so very grateful for that Divine flow and these God winks.

(Another side note: I was able to hear Father Richard Rohr discuss this very topic in New Orleans two weekends ago.  His book is the Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your  Transformation) It was an incredible talk.

Namaste

Dad And Trees and Speaking Up

Dad died three years ago today.  I wrote a piece right after dad died about how I wished I could have connected more with him.  I longed for personal interaction.  I don't remember any conversations or activities that we did together just the two of us.  It felt like a huge void in my life.  I was boy crazy from an early age.  I was that girl that had to have a boyfriend and as I look back, I wish I would have had more respect for myself.  I cringe but am learning to laugh when I watch a sitcom that makes fun of a young woman with "daddy issues." That was me. It is a thing.  I am aware of it now.

I am also aware that I tend to freeze in place and not act even when I know what to do. I don't speak up. I didn't have the confidence. I'm learning.

Months ago at a teenage values seminar at our church that broached sexuality, one of our youth pastors advised dads of girls: pay attention to your girls and hug them.  They need it and it reduces sexual promiscuity.

When George and I were dating, and we talked about having a family,  I remember telling him that if we had girls he had to pay attention to them, talk to them and do things with them.  I said it once and he has obliged my request since they were born.  I now can see (after George pointed it out!) that it came out as a forceful demand on my part.  I don't regret it.  I spoke up.  I am thrilled that the girls connect with him.  It is necessary and needed.

Yet it also brings up sadness as I type.  There will always be the little girl in me that needs her daddy's attention. It took me many years to accept Dad as he was and it wasn't an easy process. I was angry for a long while and then I grieved.  I grieved him before he died and eventually came to a place of acceptance.  I then could appreciate what he did give me.  I know that he loved me but he could not say it out loud.  I admit I have trouble with this myself.  It was much easier to express love with my children when they were younger than it is with grown people.  I have work to do, to practice vulnerability, to speak up.  It's new territory. Dad's form of love was to provide a roof over my head, clothe, feed and educate me.  Education was really important. And I'm grateful for that.  I really see that now.

Dad loved the outdoors.  I remember his very tanned arms.  On the other hand, I'm an A/C girl who likes to write and talk about thoughts and feelings and spirituality and go to yoga.  He was a gardener, hunter and fisher.   Years before he died, he built a cabin on family property that goes back several generations.  He built it for his family to use. He didn't talk about it or tell me, he just did it. Thanks to him, I'm a tree farmer and I enjoy walking with my brother and surveying the land. My kids love to ride the four-wheelers and get their feet wet in the creek and the girls love to kid me about my country roots, but I know they like it too.

My connection to him now is in land and trees.

And as I walk the dogs in my neighborhood on my street,  I found the most ironic display as a reminder.

Do you see it?

The tree is speaking to me.

Namaste.

Feeling the Love of Those Departed

(*Wrote this draft 2 years ago, but never published and was reminded about it yesterday when her ex-husband passed away. )

Watching Super Soul Sunday and something profoundly moves me.Madonna Badger, a woman from Connecticut, lost her three daughters and parents in a fire in her home on Christmas Eve 2011.

Now take that in.

Her older daughter was 9 and the twins were 7.  And her parents.  All in one night.
So much devastation and the woman is still standing.

She and Oprah talked about how lost loved ones are still with us.  Madonna shares her experience of conversations with her children and how mind-blowing it is.  She describes one particular time where her pain was so devastating, so deeply intense and the tears felt like blood coming from her eyes.  And she looked in the mirror and saw her children.  And they spoke to her and comforted her.  And she wanted to let who was with her know that it was real.

She says she can feel them and when this occurs her chest feels full.  And this only happens when she feels super present in her body. When she is bitter or angry, she cannot feel her children.

Whoa.  This struck my soul.

When I am bitter and angry, love does not come out.  Love is no where near.  Now, there is a place for anger and it can tell you where you need boundaries but staying in that place of anger and bitterness, does not move me forward and only leaves one stuck.  I have stayed angry about things for years and am slowly, slowly learning, I don't want to reside in anger any more.  I learn to allow anger to move through.  And I still stand amazed every time it does.

It seems Madonna's truth came quickly to her because it was the only way to experience her beloved children.

As Madonna vulnerably spoke this truth on this show, she commented that she doesn't understand why it is that way.

Anger does not take you to the profound places that love does. (Did I come up with this, I must have?)

Love is the answer. Love is always the answer.  And learning to love myself has always been the key to being able to turn it around and love others.

Namaste

Annie Ruined the Carpet and I Despised Her

Annie was our family's first dog.  It was quite the experience when we adopted her in 2012.  She peed on the carpet in our spare room and in Mallory's room repeatedly and I despised her.  I truly, truly despised her and didn't see what having a dog was about at all.  George and I would have disagreements about how to handle the situation, that were worse than disagreeing about parenting.  I think for me because it was a freaking dog and we didn't have to have her or this stress in the first place.  I will admit that I would resent Mallory who wanted the dog in the first place.    I remember Annie trying to run away and I thought, GO!  (Though, she had a chip and would eventually be returned to us.)  It was very ugly in the beginning.  And in hindsight, it was all about boundaries.  I had to learn to have some...with a dog.  I had to learn boundaries with her and it was a great indicator of how to do it with humans as well.

Annie is not an affectionate kind of dog either unlike Brinkley who is a true unconditional loving dog.   Annie has her own way, but I'm learning to respect her for who she is because she can be freaking funny when she is falling asleep.  Brinkley will follow me into the closet when I'm having an ugly cry.  He doesn't lick my face but he sits with me.  What other creature will do that?  Annie, on the other hand,  only pays attention to you when you have the promise of food, or when she is frightened of the weather or the cats.  The rest of the time, she is asleep and loudly snoring.  She is
who she is.

Boundaries.  Anger is a sign that your boundaries aren't being respected or that you need to set some up!!  And it's not easy work and there is much practice, practice, practice.

The picture to the left is from the book, "The Artist's Way."  As you can see it spoke to me.  Anger is not about the other person or dog!!!  It's about going inward and not acting out, but acting upon, making a change, unless you like to stay angry?  I was very angry at Annie with all the ruining of the carpet but I needed to think out of the box.  I had never had a dog, an old "set in her ways" dog at that and had no idea how to have an inside dog.  We had put her in a crate early on and she yelped.  So we backed down and didn't do that anymore.  In hindsight, that was the very thing we needed to do.  And use treats.  Treats are the bomb!  She may have yelped at the crate but she would have acclimated.  When we adopted Brinkley over a year later with urinating problems still going on,  we had bigger issues of biting, etc so we finally got a dog trainer in our lives.  I needed outside assistance to help us think out the box.  We eventually made our way around to crating Annie at night.  I don't even remember if she disliked it, but she now goes into the "sleeping box" as George calls it.   I know George thought it was harsh to put her in there and separate her from us.  He is such the softie.  But that has been the trick as well as taking her outside in the morning  and at other times of the day with the treat and demanding she "go potty."  This training takes time and practice.

Learning this big lesson that went on for more than a year with a dog, has been such the example of how to deal with people as well.  Thinking outside the box, not being entrenched in one way of doing things, letting go of expectations, and getting outside assistance if needed. Old dogs and I mean me   can learn new tricks.

And, so often, I am so thankful that my old soul Mallory, incessantly begged for a dog, not once but twice.  These four leggeds are members of our family.  I totally understand dog people now.  It took a while but I finally do.  And not all dogs are the same, just like children.

I Had to Let The Dust Settle Before I Hit the Publish Button (It's About the Duggars)

I wrote a very long post about the Duggars weeks ago but never published.

It was restrained anger with love.  (Yeah, it was mostly anger.) And I used a refrain of "Praying the Gay Away" with "Praying the Molestation Away."  It was very clever if I do say so myself.

As an LGBT supporter AND Christian, I don't agree with the Duggars' politics, religion and let's not touch the hypocrisy of Michelle Duggar's robocall and any of Josh's words... condemning anybody.

After I had written my blog, I read a very loving and sensitive blog and the author's point was really, really good, but on a comment in response, I went off in a restrained fashion letting loose on how this news pushed every one of my core buttons.  The author's  loving way to address the situation had stopped me in my tracks though and I did not hit publish on my blog.

The Duggar situation hit way too close to home for me.

Between the fundamentalism, and anti-LGBT, that's enough to start.  The facts that the kids have no room to be who they really are,  because the family appears to have all the makings of a cult...allegedly.  Those parents produce children and they are expected to believe exactly as Jim Bob and Michelle.

So you can see where the veiled rant went.

But the most important point here is that me judging them, has my energy focused on the negative.   And I was judging.  I found I had to walk away and not read any more Twitter, watch any more CNN, nor finish the second Megan Kelly interview because it stirred me up and I became obsessive.  This was not positive nor a forward move nor loving.

And the bottom line is I want to put more love out in the world, not judgement, not hate.

I had to let it go.

Though I was very, very interested in the behavioral phenomenon of people, (politicians, preachers)  who come out and preach against something fervently, and yet they actually have the thing that they are preaching against going on within themselves (or their family!)  This is the phenomenon I wanted to know about and hear about.   I think it's called projection.

So here is my new blog about The Duggars.

Jim Bob and Michelle are doing the best job they can.  They love their children.  They love God, I love God and yet we have different rules.  I'm glad I'm not one of their children.   I really, really hope Josh Duggar has not relapsed and molested anyone else.  Molestation is really, really hard to address behaviorally and for the impulse to diminish.  More than likely, Josh was most likely molested himself.  And I'm glad that my family is not on television.

There, that wasn't so bad was it?  It still wasn't as loving as the other blog but it's more than what I wrote the first time.

Namaste.

It's Time for Another Thing: Burn Baby Burn

These are all of the medical papers from the journey it took for George and I to get pregnant.

Here they all are: Invoices, Claims, Denied Claims and Explanation of Benefits, from the gynecologist, the reproductive endocrinologist's office, the lab, two hospitals and our insurance provider. And then the prescription papers…

I had them all in a green file folder box neatly ordered with tabs. It was the most organized I've ever been in my life. And I've never been that organized again.  I wanted to be a mother so badly.  

This was a very ugly, hard time for me.  

I've decided it's time to let the papers go.

Twelve years in the making.

The girls and I had a ceremonial burn, while swimming in the pool.  (Mothers are always multi-tasking.) Riley really enjoyed adding each paper in.  There was a symbolism there.  The child that was so hard to conceive was helping me let go of my infertile past.

Mallory helped us flame the fire too but her thoughts turned to smores. We had enough graham crackers for one smore and Brinkley was even able to get in on it.

The papers burned, the ashes piled up.  George asked how it felt.  I really didn't feel that much except the heat of the fire.  I had been holding on to this papers for so long but they really didn't mean anything to me anymore.

How much more am I carrying around that is weighing me down that needs to be burned off?

How much more "stuff" is lying around that needs to be let go of?  I'm so excited to address this issue.   I am delighted to begin working through small areas of my house, one by one.  Who knew I would ever get so excited about cleaning.

The fertility papers are gone and it's time to move on
to whatever else is dragging me down.

Will it somehow lead to more chocolate for Mallory?

Will Brinkley end up getting a bite?

Stay tuned.

Namaste.

My Lesson On Anger from "Pretty Woman"

There's a scene in "Pretty Woman" where Julia Roberts and Richard Gere are in the bathtub and she has her legs wrapped around him.  He says the line that he spent ten thousand dollars in therapy to be able to say and that was "I was very angry at my father."

I took note of that line back in 1990 when the movie came out and it has stuck with me ever since. It would come up whenever I got angry at anyone or anything.  And I would spend many seconds emphasizing the word angry.  It would go like this. " I was very ANNNNGGGGRY."   In the last fews days, I was very ANGRY at someone.  And the anger turned to tears and I had a couple of sessions of ugly cries and then anger and back and forth over the last few days.  I really understand why people stick with their compulsions because the journey to heal is not for wussies.

But an aha has been coming about my anger.  I never really owned it.  Sure, I would rant and rave over the injustice of whoever or whatever it was but deep down...

I didn't think I deserved to be angry.

It was a mental mind game.  But I did deserve to be angry, I just had to detangle from the stories I have told myself that I am not worthy.   And separate and get some clarity from other people's stories that involved me.

As I'm allowing these feelings to work through, I pick up "The Artist's Way" (written by Julia Cameron) which is the workshop I'm taking this semester at church.  This is Chapter 3 which was my designated chapter to read this week.

Picking up this book and this chapter to read was God's hug for me.  I needed one and he gave it to me in this form and I'm grateful.

What stands out are the words....of the ENTIRE three paragraphs above.  I'm a people pleasing "nice" person, so I stuffed my anger, denied it, buried, blocked and hid it, etc.  But anger is there to show me my boundaries.  Again and again, it shows me my boundaries.

The last paragraph on anger:
"Sloth, apathy and despair are the enemy.  Anger is not.  Anger is our friend.  Not a nice friend.  Not a gentle friend.  But a very, very loyal friend.  It will always tell us when we have been betrayed. It will always tell us when we have betrayed ourselves.  It will always tell us that it is time to act in our own best interests.     Anger is not the action itself.  It is action's invitation."

There is a reason that the line from a movie in 1990 stuck with me.  Anger is my friend and I am worthy to listen to it and use it appropriately.

Nurturance and Christmas...

On the first weekend of December this is how it went down: Friday night holiday open house, Saturday Morning Breakfast with Santa, Saturday night Sunday School Christmas Party, Sunday morning Advent lesson with meaningful meditation, Sunday night Monthly Covenant Group, Book Study Group AND delightful Hanging of the Greens service with Children's singing.

Yes, the Christmas season has started off with a bang.  I cannot keep this pace up.  I wanted to do each and every function yet I was exhausted.  During the whole weekend, I kept thinking I can't do this.  I can't keep up.  But if I tell myself this, my mind will struggle and work against me the whole time.   This much I have learned.  What you tell yourself, you believe.

So Saturday, when I started raising my voice with Mallory, I knew it was time to cocoon, and I did. I took to the bed and rested.  And still hanging over all of social time was: laundry, present buying, travel arrangements, and Christmas cards that are sitting in boxes.

As we were leaving church Sunday morning, I had a headache brewing, my throat hurt and again, I knew I needed to rest before the evening's functions, which I did.  That rest was going to keep me sane.

This was and is taking care of myself.    And then... George came in to complain about a task,  I didn't "complete."  In that moment,

I

DID

NOT

CARE

and I expressed that vehemently.

Now, any number of gurus whom I have learned brilliant ideas from would say, "Do you want to engage in this disagreement in this moment?"  Perhaps George was saying his truth which I turned in my exhausted state into my faulty thought processes which are:  I'm not good enough and I can't keep up and doesn't everyone else handle this better than I do?  

With my new thought processing, what I could have done was lean back,  listen and acknowledge because what he was complaining about was something I agreed with but it was not going to happen in his time frame.

What I really really wanted and needed was some empathy and understanding.  What I heard was criticism and judgement.  As I come to know myself and have greater awareness is what I have missed most is nurturance.  My biggest lesson is that I HAVE TO GIVE IT TO MYSELF.  No one else can do it for me.  There are persons who are evolved and in that place themselves to give of themselves, but I don't know any of those people.  Ha Ha!!  AND importantly,  I would have to ask for it in clear language.

So today as I clean up the house, do laundry, work on the multitude of Christmas tasks, I have taken the time to sit down to write because I have missed it.  My last blog was November 18th - way too long ago. Writing is nurturing for me, and being creative energizes me.

So what have I learned?  Will I lean back and acknowledge the next time I am given critique?   I don't know.  I don't have to be perfect all the time, yet now there is the option to consider acknowledging what is being said and then asking for what I truly need in that moment as well.  And if it can't be given, I can still give it to myself.

Communication is so critical to relationships.  Yet it is so fundamentally hard to do with the right timing, tact and tone.  I am willing to try though.

May you be able to nurture yourself in whatever manner restores your soul during this hectic time of the holidays.

Namaste!

What is it to be Human?

The Guest House by Mewlana Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I really needed to learn this lesson and that is: the feelings that I wake with each day, they are not my enemies as I previously imagined them. I wrestled with them all day long and many times the feelings were victorious and food was used to soothe but in the end food contributed to the problem. I use to feel completely trapped and overwhelmed by my feelings, the "negative" ones that is. The goal now is to lovingly accept all emotions as they come. The next step is to recognize them as a gift. Reframing them in this way,I am still working on... Yet I still stand in amazement how so many times the worries, anger, fear, anxiety just dissapate as I stop and accept them. The freedom in this is shocking after so many years of being ruled by feelings.

I tape Super Soul Sunday on the Own Channel. This episode featured Debbie Ford and her movie, "The Shadow Effect" and she is the one who quoted Rumi above. I see so many themes of my healing journey overlap. Debbie in particular talks about the "shadows" in our lives which are hidden beliefs about ourselves that keep us from reaching our full potential. I believed for many, many years that I was not worthy, I was not enough, that other people were better than me. And I never questioned that belief. But again and again when I am open to learning, these fantastic lessons come to me. Light (love) , dark (denial) , pain, suffering, shame, projection, forgiveness, acceptance, love. All of these lessons lead to me accepting who I already am - my authentic self.

One lesson that speaks to me currently is that what I project on others is a disowned part of myself.

This is big.

And will have to wait until another blog, there are other things brewing.

Why all the Anger?

The kids are out of school so I have not had many cohesive thoughts this week, the ones I've had are intertwined with the Disney channel and requests to get out of the house. There is one idea I have been wrapping my brain around again and again and it is, what is this anger that keeps popping up?

When I am not with my mother in law, I have many anger feelings directed towards her, which then makes me feel guilty. She's dying for gosh sakes and has been for close to two years. Being one of only two active participants in the same house overseeing her care week after week has been quite the journey.  I have watched her lose weight bit by excruciating bit to uncover bones, as well as writhe in pain, suffer with anxiety, lose the ability to dial, and then answer a phone as well as work a television remote. And she found fault with the phone and the tv week after week. She has lost the ability to walk, speak coherently which she is aware of, to stand, and now to eat on her own. This is a lot of loss and I have no control over it. Maybe that is some of the anger. Watching someone die is the ultimate loss of control and this is between her will which is very strong and God. She is fighting tooth and nail to live while what I see is such a massive loss of quality of life.

I struggle because for the last few years I have been cultivating a new relationship with how I experience feelings when they arise, especially those that are uncomfortable. Now, I want to be curious about them, not scared and panicked as I have been but lovingly acknowledge them and allow them through instead of blocking them, and pushing them down, and then stuffing myself with food. But these anger feelings keep coming up again and again?

It finally dawned on me that I'm not mad at her for what I think I am. Anger is the ego blocking our need to work on an issue within ourselves.  After I visit with her, and the armor that I have to put on to do so comes down, I grieve. While she is still alive through this prolonged terminal illness, I have lost all of the person she was. There are no characteristics left of who she once was. She is somewhere between living and the great mystery. She doesn't look like the same person. There is no warmth, no smile, no conversation. She cannot express her fierce love for my offspring. We can't laugh or joke anymore and all of this has disappeared over time and now in the last weeks, communication has diminished to me guessing what she is trying to say. She use to come to our house often on the weekends and spend the night. She was our clutch babysitter. She sat on the floor and played with the girls and engaged with them actively. She crawled into the crib when Riley was young. She went on vacations with us. She even did my laundry and dishes and enjoyed doing so!!! And she was an ally, we talked about important issues in my life and did so by agreeing to disagree if need be.  I needed to learn how to agree to disagree.  This was huge for me. I, the people pleaser, with what felt like no voice growing up, could have a conversation with appropriate boundaries. And now week after week, I see that person disappearing.

I now know that perhaps the anger is she is leaving us.