Changing

 

I read an article a few days ago offering advice to respond to situations in a new light. Change old habits of impulse reactions, particularly ones that involve anger, negativity, resentment. Note the usual reaction, stop, and try a new way. Changing thought patterns. Clearing a new path. I like it. I like the suggestion. It feels, I don’t know, hopeful? I actually ¬†practiced it the other night. As I lay thinking about a friend who has hurt me on so many levels, I found my anger rising, my body tightening, and then….I stopped. I acknowledged this almost habitual response and decided to consciously process my response differently. In a more constructive or at least less negative-feeling way. What I have noticed is when I start to feel this anger and hurt, it snowballs. My body and mind pay the price. So in this moment I took a deep breath, placed one hand on my stomach, my center, and one hand on my heart and I let it go. Did it make it hurt any less? Not so much. But what it provided was a place where that hurt could no longer control and weaken me. It was a safe haven of sorts. And I did’t have to physically go anywhere.

It is all here – within me.

To Be…Not

Sometimes when you are in pain, in that moment, in that timeframe, you think it could not hurt anymore. But I discovered that is so wrong. Like being kicked when you are down. This is what I have felt for the past week. It has been a wave of constant hurt continuously smacking me against the rocky, sharp, unforgiving wall. I am left in-between this blockade and the thrashing, intensity of the waves…waiting for it all to stop.

Feelings of being overwhelmed followed by shock and sadness.

Strength found to be challenged again but with great force.

Some panic, some weakness, some all out craziness.

Again pure shock.

And then deep sadness and hurt and disbelief.

And I sat in this. All of it.

So twisted and surreal almost.

How ironic.

I lose myself from time to time. I get lost in the complexity and many paths. This past week, I lost all harmony.  Any sense of balance and peace was gone.

Maybe all these twists and turns is how I actually will find myself…….

 

Dream

So real. A house boat. Floating. An attached dock. With jet skis. The dock fiercely moving with the energetic waves. “Don’t you get scared?” “I am use to it.” Emotions rising. Holding back tears. Memories of these times flood my mind. Suddenly a big push and the dock smacks against the wall. She is jerked backwards and then forwards but unharmed. It is now loose. Floating away. She jumps first quickly to get to the house boat. I follow. Lost around the corner. We run. Yelling for the both of you. I can now hide my tears against this excuse. As you retrieve the runaway dock, it suddenly becomes apparent it was not as big of a deal as originally thought. Keeping my head down, yet obviously upset, she says “she is not happy.” You look at me and suddenly I feel your hands rubbing my temples. The tears now flow readily down my cheeks. And I reach up to hold your hand. I feel you. And it hurts. And then….I awake. Crying inconsolably.

“Feel it. The thing you don’t want to feel. Feel it and be free.” – Nayirah Waheed

So I was Told

“No one is telling you how they really feel about you. You force people to lie to you.” With a quick text, a second…self-doubt encompasses me. Others, close and not-so-close, have made me aware of their opinions about me as a person. Some positive and some not so much. And for the most part, fairly accurately. So who is it? Or who are they? Who is not being honest with me? And tell me why I need to care? I expect the truth.

Funny how someone, someone so incredibly close, can take any bits of self-confidence and shred it in a second. “…….But words will never hurt me.” I beg to differ.

My Heart

Do you know what it feels like when your child is hurt or sad or scared? It shreds my heart. The moment my boys’ health, whether it be emotional health, physical health, or psychological health, is compromised in any way, my whole existence becomes awakened to the fragility of our lives. As their mother I want nothing more than for the both of them to live a fulfilling life with as little pain as possible. But I do realize pain in many shapes is inevitable, a part of growing and learning and experiencing.
I was running with a neighborhood friend last weekend and she started to talk about when her daughter is feeling sad, she too feels it as well. It’s an interconnectedness we share with our children. It’s an invisible cord that forever connects us.
Although my oldest son is in his teenage years and has little desire to spend much time with me unless he needs something, I still tell him I love him every time he leaves for school, at night before I go to bed, and now and again will send a text message “I love you.” I’m learning as I go how to be a mom, a better mom, to a teenage son. I have already faltered. But hopefully have recovered enough to have sustained little damage. As he “drifts” away into his own new unchartered territory, that invisible cord is still present.
My youngest son will always be my baby. I love his hugs, the fact that he still runs and jumps into my arms, and the sweet kisses goodnight. So the moment they are in pain, my love for them becomes that much more overwhelmingly strong and apparent.
After all, they are my heart.

Truths

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I took this picture recently. After uploading it to my computer, I realized it was more symbolic than initially anticipated. The ferry ride had been a relatively smooth one until we started to break through the ice. You could hear the ship struggling as it made its way through, vibrating the floors, chairs, and tables. Looking down at the ice was beautiful. But looking ahead to the shore line was almost breathtaking. There was beauty in the struggle and beauty in the destination. I must admit, I have been struggling. I am desperately trying to stay focused. To take deep breaths. To calm my mind. My thoughts. I have started to think about truths. And mostly what they mean to different people. Truth is black and white – to me. There are no shades of grey. It’s a yes or no. I think when people try and grey their truth it’s simply a way to manage a mistake. Or maybe a weakness. Truth, bare-boned truth, can hurt. But is undeniable so easier (not to be confused with easy) to accept for that very reason. Truth bares no excuse. It doesn’t need one. It just needs to be accepted. It’s the shades of grey that align with excuses and ultimately hurt more than one can imagine. I don’t believe truth to be flexible. In fact I find that contradictory. It is what it is. What are your truths?

Broken

Have you ever felt broken? When you can’t peacefully sleep, when your chest tightens, when you put all your strength into holding back tears, when your stomach is in constant turmoil, when you walk through your day speaking with people acting as though you are fine but not truly hearing anything they are saying. Your responses are just on auto pilot. Have you felt this way? The most torturous part of it all? That moment, the one that broke me, is on repeat in my mind, in my thoughts. I fill with anger, with hurt, with pain. It consumes me. It’s like I was running along a path cautiously but happy and then next thing I know I am lying on the hard, rocky ground because someone stuck out their foot and tripped me. It happened so fast I had no time to see it coming. I was not prepared. And just like that I feel hollow, without words, and yes, broken.