Category: Examples of an Imperfect woman

“The more of our self we own, the less need for enemies to embody our disowned darkness.  Everything is welcomed by the soul.”  Pat B. Allen.

 

People are carrying the dark parts of us?  Who we call our enemies are really folks carrying our darkness, our disowned darkness.  So if we OWN our own darkness, then we will no longer have enemies?

 

Darkness what is darkness?  They are carrying our darkness, what is that?  How do you explain darkness to others, how can a child know what this darkness is?

 

If you showed a child an enemy of yours what would they look like, speak like, act like?  Here is my enemy?

 

How odd this all seems that our enemies are here to bring us a piece of ourselves we lost or disowned.  That seems like a good thing, yet why are we so opposed?

 

Enemies are our friends. Then who are our friends? Enemies?

 

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”  Martin Luther King Jr.

 

I think this is all interesting. 

 

Can it be that silent friends can become our worst enemies?

 

“Enemies will embody our disowned darkness.”

I wonder than what friends embody?  What is their role?

 

Disowned darkness is not that there isn’t darkness within us, there is, but we don’t want to own it and only our enemies are brave enough to show us where we are not!

 

Doesn’t this make sense, for I know that there are many times that I didn’t want to point out to a friend a dark spot along the way.  And I have also experienced losing them when I did.

 

In the end I became the enemy that carried their darkness for them, I became dark and unfriendly, this is amazingly accurate when I look at it.

 

You become the message not just the messenger.

 

Within my family I became the dark sheep, hey is that where the term came from, anyway I became the darkness for speaking the truth of what is.

 

If I was the enemy for speaking the truth, what were their friends telling them?

 

I am way confused on what being friend is now, for it sure seems backwards to me.

 

In my experience, being friendly AND being truthful isn’t seen as one and the same!

 

I literally remember being thrown back when they didn’t want to hear what I had to say!  I was startled when I found myself standing against them as their enemies for speaking of reality.

 

It wasn’t that I was making up stories or telling them lies against what is, I was just standing in a spot and being a commentator of it.  And I became worse then the actual crime.

 

Can a crime be owned or disowned?  It surely seems that way.  But whether you own it or not will it still have happened?

 

When I arrive in front of my family they see me as their enemy, I am the one who is the problem, me.

 

I used to say, “how in the hell am I the problem, me the ‘little girl’ in the molestation, I am the one who has issues, surely this is not right!”

 

I became the darkness, which is what so many little girls become.  They become and are the ‘disowned darkness’.

 

We become the enemies of an otherwise beautiful kind world filled with sunshine and happy deeds, if only we would keep our mouths shut and our darkness to ourselves!

 

We carry their disowned darkness, we the little ones carry their loads for them. 

 

In a letter my mother wrote to me in 2005;

 

 I have Beth’s core love as a daughter for her mother.  I saw her as this beautiful small child.  Blond hair chubby cheeks – sitting on the grass by the side of the house, a schoolgirl working very hard at home and at school a very good sincere child.  Serious beyond her years.  A young adult trying to keep the whole family marching along in line, reaching back to gather up the stragglers.  Stepping up to carry part of the burden of my son’s handicap, to lightening the load for her mother…..

 

In some way I cannot understand with my limited knowledge some where along in her childhood she picked up all the stray, sick, mixed up emotions whirling around our family.  All the emotions and ugly undercurrents I did not see or feel, she did.  As a child she tried to make everything right.  A hopeless task.  The same way I tried to make our family close, loving etc by pasting on false fronts, making excuses for my husband, working harder taking all lacks myself to make the perfect mother perfect family.  (Daughter) you can rest now.  You no longer need to carry this unmanageable load.  I grieve your 46 years but I cannot undo it.  I no longer need your affirmation of your love.  I have it deep inside of me.  Nothing can remove it…..  Forgive me so you can release your soul to soar among the angels.  Always forever, Mom

 

I carried this letter around for a while, it seemed that my mother could see me, yet in the end it was her only seeing my love for her.

 

It was painfully clear that in order to have her love, I had to carry the load, put the load down, so goes the love.

 

Darkness is the only love she knows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the book “Art is the Way of Knowing” by Pat B. Allen.

 

She had a dream about a dead baby bird, then went for a walk and came upon a dead baby bird, and remembered being little and finding a dead little bird in the alley.  She went back to the dead bird and took its picture and put it in a frame and put it in her studio. 

 

The little dead bird ended up representing to her the lost little girl of her childhood.  She had been robbed of being one when she had to be a mother too early since her mother was sickly and died when she was young. 

 

That struck me as being similar to me, although my mother did not die, she needed me to mother instead of being a little girl.  And then my father didn’t treat me as a little girl, but abused me sexually.  I wasn’t anyone’s little girl or even able to be my own little girl.

 

She says to go back and remember what your dreams and wishes when you were 5 or say 7.  I have nothing there?  I can’t remember dreaming, surely I had to, she says to think of childhood toys and favorite activities, places, foods, toys or clothes.  My memory bank seems empty.

 

I had just said to my husband the other day, “I don’t want to be a mother no more, I have been a mother forever.”  And it made me sad. 

 

How interesting this all is!

I felt anxious and crowded and overwhelmed and that my house was so full of mom duties.  Fear arose, then anger.  There was way too much mom roles to be done leaving little time to nurture my little girl. 

 

It gives me great relief it isn’t my kids that I resent.  

 

I do have control over how much time I do the Mom thing and it is up to me to set time aside.

 

To set aside time for all little girls to play, to put down the mother hat or ratty housedress and step into the space of play, in the land of dreams and wishes, of doing what you love, immersed in activities where you forget all the grown-up drudgery, careless of cleanliness and order, playing and experimenting with ideas, childlike.

 

My little girl inside is sighing a happy sigh, quite a worthy opponent for the mother lady. 

 

What a juxtaposition there is inside of me, a weary mother girl and the newly found excited ready to play girl! 

 

What do little girls do? What do they dream and wish, how do they relax and let go, dare to dance like no one is watching, sing loud and out of tune, dress in fashions that suit their fancy regardless of size or shape. How to escape the critical eye of a nonsensical mother?  How to slip away from jobs, duties and daily structure? 

 

Can we send the Mother on vacation, like an extended one?

Isn’t it time for her to runaway, like far far away?

 

What I feared the most has happened, the kids will take over this house!  My little girl may just be leading the charge.

 

As I look backwards from here, I can see my anxiousness for them to grow up so I could retire being a mom and commence with being alone and learning how to play and be me.  Now I can do both.  When I feel myself getting stressed, when I feel myself getting way uptight, we will send the old bat of vacation!

 

I am so overly thankful that I don’t have to be the mom all the time, its darkness was filling up my world, the weight alone was breaking my spirit!

 

The difference in being a mom with the spirit of little girl, compared to just being a Mother, is beyond what words can carry.

 

I am years and years behind in playing and way ahead on the responsibility scale, so it is time to balance things out, it is time to let me learn to play.

 

Learn to be like a child again.  Begin to dream and plant some wishes, try new things and seek new friends, go new places, the world is my playground, dare I play on it?

 

How fun to teach play instead of responsibility!  I think I have drilled that one to the death!

 

Let the Play begin!

 

 

I heard today on Sirius Radio, “The greater the selfishness, the bigger the hurt or wound.  When you are so injured that you can’t see beyond your injuries, it makes you very self-centered.”  It was on the Dr. Robin Smith’s show.

 

It gave me a greater understanding of myself. 

 

I can now see where I am able to see others, to be with others, to focus on not only my needs but theirs as well, that I can even consider the other person is a huge miracle.

 

What is even more amazing is that the more hurt we are the less we focus on the actual wound but instead look around and see others “not tending us”.

 

What had amazed me was my mother’s blindness, how in the greatest turmoil, it was always “what about me?”

 

What about me?  That seemed so childish, so selfish, so not being a grown mom.  Yet this not only explains her actions, but it also shows that she is a deeply injured woman. 

 

She tends not to see the damage of her children let alone herself. 

 

It is hard to see the damaged self, when that is the self you have always been.  It is like tearing apart yourself in hopes of mending yourself, to rip and then fix, it seems an insane thing to do.

 

Somehow I was able to see the wound, to look at it’s origin and how I lived my life as a wounded person, and now have had the chance to heal myself from the inside out.

 

Now that I know the reason for her behavior, it does make sense why it is she is the way she is doing what it is she does.

 

The advice Dr. Robin gave this man was that he had to deal with the relationship in the reality of what it was.  He had to decide to either have a relationship with a self- absorbed woman or begin to grieve for the woman he wanted her to be.

 

And it truly is a grieving process in my experience.  I am not sure if I can remember all the stages of grief or their order, but I know there is anger, bargaining, denial, acceptance and it seems there should be one more, that there were five total.

 

Without really understanding or knowing what I was actually doing I somehow walked through the stages of grief with my mother.  It is like she has passed on.

 

What is comforting for me to know is that I am in agreement with the psychologists.

 

She was just one of many that I had to grieve, that I had to let go of the ideal and grab on to the real and then to let that go. 

 

Two others I had to release in grief came back to town from away.  My husband bumped into one of them, they are in town for the weekend helping another brother with his addition on his home.  Time moves on for them, it is like having the ghost of yesterdays past arrive in live living color.

 

Will I see them, I will if it is in the cards. What will be our interaction? What will I say, what will they?

 

When you have already grieved the loss of who they can’t be, and see them as the injured souls they are, it leaves me in a space of don’t know.

 

I can’t pretend them to be someone they are not, nor can I pretend that are not who they are.  Confusing, I know, I am confused a lot.

 

They are the ghosts of yesterday, the walking dead, the dead relationships in a live body, impossible to interact with?

 

Death usually is the death of the body and then the relationship dies as well, this is a backwards.

 

What we grieve for then is not the loss of the body, for I see bodies but suffer the loss of relationships that were housed in those bodies.

 

It isn’t the bodies of my siblings and parents I miss, I miss being part of their relationships.  The healthy adult me knows that it is for the best to be separate, the little girl, the dreamer, hopeful and wishful still pops up within me.  If only….

 

For now I must quiet the little girl’s voice and over power it with one of wisdom and understanding.  Their wounds are not mine to heal.

 

I must skip on, heading in the direction that will honor me and my pathway, I can only glance but fleetingly at those I lost along the way, it is not good for me to stare too long.

 

As I turn and walk away, I know again what I am leaving behind.  A soul lost in the sea of darkness with a wound screaming for attention, but it is not my attention it needs, it is theirs.  I want them to turn inwards, go deeply within to find their peace, love and joy, it isn’t mine to give, it is theirs to find.

 

“Finders keepers losers weepers!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are on a teeter-totter, when someone’s up the other is down.  Up and down, down and up!

 

Is it a fallacy that parents and children can be on the same page, to think alike and move alike and be one?  Where did I get that from and is it even possible?

 

Just the mechanics of getting along in the space is a task that requires skills in people and attitudes, knowing when to say when and when to remain silent, to forgo present moment happiness and instead focus on a long-term goal. 

 

I wonder in the ‘old days’ how this worked with many generations all living in one house?  Who was the master of that house?  The oldest?  How did it work or was there so much work, they all were too busy working to sit and wonder!

 

The home is the woman’s domain it is her castle, the place where she defines her space by who she is.  How am I defining my space, what is the energy of my castle?

 

What is the ultimate goal that I have?

 

A mother’s work is done when the space is empty.  It is my goal to get them all to leave!  Some how in my mind that made me a bad mother to want them all to leave, like a reluctant hostess eager for the last parting guest to clear the door!

 

It is not because I do not like them, I do, it is not because I do not love them, I do, it is because this is the job of a woman who has to complete her job of being a mom.

 

No wonder they feel that I am pressuring them, I am.  No wonder they feel that I will only be happy when they are all gone, and I will.  That segment of mothering 101 will be done.   My responsibility is over when they are on their own and living a separate life. No wonder there is separation anxiety, there should be.  I will be their mom but we have separate houses!

 

It can twist you up inside.  When a huge part of you is pushing while another part is pulling.  It seems that I cannot relax and make this space comfortable for them for then I fail as a mom, and they will take over my nest!

 

No wonder I am in such a state of flux, I either lose my nest or my kids.  And it seems so heartless to want the nest over the kid’s happiness, their peace and their joy.  Ultimately at the end my life’s mission is to have them in a nest of their own.

 

My love will follow them wherever it is they go, it is because I love them so, I make them go, not because I don’t.

 

With love in my heart, the long-term goal in my sights, I see once again a clear road ahead.

 

The empty nest, an empty nest but for the couple who started this all, my husband and I, alone at last!

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be attentive, involved and inspiring without being overbearing, directive and threatening, how to navigate the tender waters of your children’s lives?  

 

Slipping in with a question can cause tidal waves of distress or just stress and confusion, asking it seems is enough to stir up currents in peaceful waters.  

They are still like calm lazy rivers flowing slowly in a direction unknown to all, steadily moving along in inches, small tiny little inches in a month!

 

My task it seems is to move the river along, yet is it?  My mothering buttons seem to engage as I watch the non-action.  I see no movement and I wonder out loud.  My asking seems to disrupt the peaceful river, like a cannon ball onto the glass surface!

 

The river is indignant, and it splashes on to me!  In the end the river settles back down to its unmoving silent water.  I sit near its banks in total befuddlement!  

Is it possible that there are rapids up ahead to this river, is there something around the bend that I am unaware of?  What is my role here and how can I approach the river that is beneficial for both of us?  

 

Do I stand silently in patience?  Patience, yikes that is so hard for me, silence is another, and non- directing I way fail at.  Be like a large weeping willow tree hanging over the lazy river.

 

What moves the river, what tells the river to go quickly and to make that bend?  Is the Universe using the parents to help move the river?  

 

It seems that the line gets fuzzy as the children turn into young adults the landscape changes, expectations shift, space gets crowded in their lives.  

 

Or is it crowded in mine?  Do I feel the weight of their inner tubes riding along on my back?  I am the lazy river?  Oh I see, I can be the lazy river and let them ride, or I can be the rapids or the waterfalls that kicks them off the tube!

 

I love that I am the river I am the one that I am waiting for again.  It is me, I do have the right to ask how long are you planning on floating along?

 

There is peace in having them all here under our roof, enjoyment in seeing them daily, to hear their laughter as they re-connect, like a prolonged family reunion.

It has been a month long vacation for some, a nice respite from college studies, but for the rest of us this is life.

 

Life as a Mother, it is me that allows them to be as they are, it is me that is the common denominator of how much they contribute or don’t, it is up to me as to how many floating inner tubes I allow on my surface.

  

I am hanging on, when I should be letting go!  Or I let them hang on when they are unsure of where it is that they should go.

  

It seems as parents we are always the ones that have to let go, to stop being the training wheels, the hands that forever hold on to the bike.  

Let go and kick them out of the nest.

 

I remember watching on Planet Earth, the video of teeny little birds floating down many yards and flopping on the ground, some didn’t even survive the fall, being amazed at nature!  That was what was required to learn how to fly!  The nest way up there and in order to get back they had to learn to use their wings.

In order for them to use the wings, they have to leave the nest!

 

Letting go is harder than holding on!

 

Letting go frees both sides!  A successful mother lets go, drops her hands and lets the child steer the bike!  We know that there may be falls mixed in with successful minutes of staying on, and in the end with practice the child learns how to balance on its own! 

 

Learns to be independent and knows self-confidence.

Ironically we teach them to leave us, to set forth on their own.

 

Letting go as a child to become an adult.

 

We were all shaky at first until we learned balance and with practice before long we get the lesson, we successfully navigate a new stage in life.  As long as we are willing to get back on the bike called life!

 

Where this bike will take us, what roads will we travel down, what bumps with toss us off, what sights will thrill us, that is all unknown, what we have to do is just be willing to shove off and balance the best we can!

 

Let go! 

 

Our family watched a movie the other night, “The Boy in the Stripped Pajama’s.”

About two boys during the war in Germany, one boy lived in the work/death camp and the other’s father was a high-ranking soldier in charge of the camp.

Both boys lived in their own worlds following along behind adults and their rules. 

The soldier’s son saw the ‘farm’ out his bedroom window and wondered why all the farmers wore pajamas.  He thought the fence was to keep animals in not people, that they were playing a game with the numbers on their pajamas.

Imagine what life looks like without history and stories.  How much we tell kids in advance to prepare them to know others from our points of view.

Explaining war and religion have to be one of the hardest things to make clear to children.  History of past people and events are dragged into the here and now covering all generations from that moment forward. 

I have my experiences with my family and I have my history with actions felt on both sides.  But my children and husband are in a different place I allowed them their own point of view.

They have my words of my experience, but in the end it is their own experience that matters to them, not mine. And it seems that they are able to continue some social interactions where I am not able.

A psychologist that I had seen a few times in the first year suggested for me to learn how to meet them on a very social level.  To now treat your brothers, sisters and parents like strangers almost, or a person you pass in the grocery store, a person without history and certainly no future hopes.

There seemed to be only two choices, either fight like cats and dogs, or remain aloof with social niceties, neither worked me. 

Our stories of our lives are our lives or so it seems, without the story, we literally are people moving around either standing, sitting or lying down….and as Eckhart Tolle says, there are three states of being, Enthusiasm, Enjoyment or Acceptance.

To accept past behaviors and remain adult about it, to get to the place where you let old dogs lie, is a lofty goal.

Accepting what is and seeing who is in front of you without a past story being narrated in your head is a feat that leaves you breathless.  To stand in the now, speaking of only now, and seeing only now is near impossible.  How do you act like you just met, again? 

Mostly it is your inner expectation.  You have to expect nothing, or no preconceived agenda you just arrive in this moment and then leave that moment behind.  No future and no past.

Deepak Chopra uses dogs as examples of not holding grudges or living in the state of revenge.  If you harm a dog, the dog doesn’t forget, but he doesn’t live in the state of unhappiness until he sees you again. 

What I know of myself is that something inside of me changed, something inside of me moves away from them, something inside me knows to steer me clear and even leaves me without words. 

There is not a war planned nor revenge in the works, there is just me learning how to navigate this new relationship. My children and husband to are learning what to do as well without rules. 

Perhaps it is in allowing others the freedom of choice, we make this world a better place, yet part of me worries that they are interacting with folks who hurt me.  Is the next generation one who can heal old wounds, are they at a new level.

I have no answers.  It seems harboring past ills is not a way forward, social niceties leave out realness, maybe we all just learn to focus on our own behaviors and our inner guiding system, honor our pathway.

I can truly see how wars are started, how wars are fought, how adults pass on our beliefs and injustices to the next generation.  And I can see that we must somehow begin anew again.

“Be the change you want to see in the world.”  Ghandi.

Yet I believe it wasn’t me that made the choice for change, it was made for me, I simply followed along. I am being led through this transformation of self, going from darkness into Light.

“All war belongs on paper” is what Byron Katie says.

The war I fought was brought to paper and each and every time when in doubt I wrote it out and each and every time we both were set free.

They were allowed to do as they did, and I was given the choice to now choose again.  I was given free will each and every time, and it allowed them the same.

War would have ensued if we had to be the same.

Peace is finding your own way.

Trusting in your inner voice, your gut instincts and inner knowing. 

War must be trying to control another’s thinking and actions, well their lives.

Freedom comes when we can allow another point of view.

Peace comes when you see that we are all on separate journeys doing the best we can with where we started from and where it is we are going.  To see each person as one who is here for a specific reason and it is not up to us to decide.

“Let it be, there will be an answer, let it be”.  I gave up trying to be God and when things were going in a way I didn’t understand, that song came to mind!

Let it be.

Trying is Failing with honor, is a quote that my brother often said, I am unsure of its origin.

 

What does that mean?  Trying is failing with honor. Are we succeeding at not doing something?

 

Trying is a simple word that is very powerful and it is a lie about our actions. 

 

I am trying to diet, but if I am eating everything that is not conducive to dieting is that dieting or lying to myself?

 

I am trying to be fit, but if I am not doing things that are fitness am I lying to myself? 

 

I am trying not to holler, but each and every time I holler I fail, but I don’t see that as honorable, I just see the failure to succeed at not hollering.

 

What would be better than trying and even failing?  What if instead we were to speak the truth?  I holler, I overeat, I sit and I am unfit! What if we just met ourselves with understanding?

 

I understand that if I eat this I will not lose weight.  I understand that if I don’t move I will not be limber, strong and have a healthy body.  I understand that I holler when I am frustrated.

 

If we first of all find out the truth, then perhaps we can work on finding out a better solution.

 

Trying over and over and failing with honor isn’t helpful it seems.

 

Finding the truth in an action can lead us to the why?  Why are we just sitting and not moving, why don’t we feel in the mood?  Why do we holler, what gives us the right? 

 

Why is probably more important to look at than the trying or lying. Why are we lying and trying and failing?

 

By seeing ourselves in the state of failing we can find out why that is?  Where did that action come from, what is it we are trying to do?  Can we find a new way, is there other options, can we look at things differently.

 

“A man convinced against his will, is of the same opinion still.”  That is a quote I read years ago, and I forget its origin too….but this is one that has given me much freedom.

 

It is not up to me to change the will of another, and even the other sometimes can’t change its own will.

 

What I know for sure is that an inner will has to be one with the changes you are trying to make.  If you your insides are not on board you will continue to try and fail with honor.

 

And the Einstein quote, “you have to be willing to let go of who you are in order to become who you want to be.”  Tells us that in order to change you have to be willing to let that part of yourself die.

 

There seems to be a part of ourselves that remains hidden, but that is driving these actions we are trying to change.

 

A will of iron and steel, one that is firmly set in stone, a way of life that has been going on for it seems life times!

 

Who controls our will?  God gave us free will?  Is that true? “Let thy will be done.”  Is that God’s will or ours?

Are we together on the will? Is my will and God’s will the same?

 

What will be done today, whose will will win, what wills you to change or not change, what will be?

 

Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.  So both wills agree?

 

Perhaps we are TRYING to change the will of God.

Is that true? 

 

If we are as we are, in the place we are, in the size we are, perhaps  what is being asked of us to accept ourselves as we are.  Instead of trying to will ourselves to be different than the plan of God.

 

Willing ourselves to be different than what God has made us!

Can you change the will of God?

No wonder the struggle is so hard?

You are trying to be different than what it is you already are!

 

The ultimate battle of reality, going against that which God made you to be!  The long journey you have been on to become perfectly who you are today!

 

I will be me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Self worth, what is self worth and how do we decide what makes us valuable?  Is there a scale we step upon and find out if we are worthy or not?  Who decides if we have hit the mark, or maybe better who decides if we haven’t?

 

Self-worth, self-realization, self-esteem, self-actualization, the common denominator in all those words is self.

 

How is it possible that the self is the one beating the self up, berating, hating, wishing and dreaming for another self?

 

Does that then mean we have a self, and then we have an idealized self?

 

Somehow we were taught not to be ok with how we are right now, but to strive to always look beyond the here and now, beyond who we are today into a future of dreams and wishes.

 

What if we stopped searching and seeking to become something we aren’t and instead sought to look instead to the right here and the right now, to look inward instead of outward, to feel our bodies operating, to see all that we have today.  What if we focused on now?

 

Can we start right here and right now, starting with who you are now, not who you want to be, or where you want to go, or what you want to wear, to what car you want to drive? And again, who is the You that will ride in the car, wear the clothes and move?

 

Who are you?  Who are you without the labels, the roles you play, the actions and words of each day?  Who are you when you are in neutral?

 

Who are you before you think I need a better car? 

 

Is it possible to meet the person you?  Or is that person hidden behind a million conditions, buried under the weight of wanting something different than what is?  Where is the person of your birth, the little girl, where is she gone and what is lying upon her?

 

I was blessed to have my whole world come crashing down, for it left me in neutral, in a state of don’t know.

 

I didn’t know who I was or what I would eventually become, it seemed my whole world was stripped away and I lay naked, bruised and confused. 

 

The job of covering up or looking away from the whole mess was too big, it seemed easier to bring it all in, to define myself from that point.  I didn’t have another choice.  I was a woman whose whole past was a mess, it was my starting point, if I had an idealized self, it was one that wouldn’t be defined only by the mess, but rather of one who went beyond.

 

I went beyond and learned about myself.

 

I now know myself and simply understand that I am who I am because of where I came from, what I was taught, the experiences of my youth, the life I led, and I simply had to realize that, to own it, to embrace my life fully and wholly, and not one part did I leave out.

 

Self- realization or actualization or worth, is the total of who you are today standing here in your full glory.

 

The good the bad and the ugly, with the past that can’t be changed, or wished differently, begin here.

 

Begin to see yourself here.  “You are here” just like in the maze at a Mall.  You are here.  Imagine being here and wanting to be somewhere else, or someone else, and the spot moves where you move.  You are here!

 

As you stand as the spot called here, look at you, look and see where you are, who you are with, what you are? 

 

The spot of here moves where you move and it never stops.

The spot of here is the present moment and it never leaves you.  In the spot of present moment is the real you, that too never leaves the spot.

 

The real you travels along on the spot of here and it is only in our heads, our dreaming heads that want or wish for something else, but we are really on the spot of here, being who we are right now, the real you is the you today.

 

My self worth is the me that has gathered together 50 years of experience on this planet, the lessons I have learned, the sorrows I have suffered, the happiness and joyful memories, the friendships I have gained, the ones I have lost, all make up me!  How can I be worthless? 

 

 

Maybe self-realization is to realize your worth, for you to see you, to hear you, to hold on to the you of today on this spot of time called now.

 

Be here now.

Is it one grand dream and a gazillion views and dialogues about what is actually happening?  Do we each as individuals see it from our own perspective with a story that we have come to know as our lives? 

 

When we die, is it only our view that dies?  The stage or backdrop or perhaps tapestry like one author described it, stays as is.  We were born onto a certain place on the tapestry and we travel and live there, but in the end, we drop off and the tapestry remains.

 

Just a person with one view of the bigger dream, a speck on the tapestry called Earth.

 

Now what is the purpose of the tapestry?  Do we come here to make the tapestry a prettier one? Do we come here for a set purpose?  Do we choose what it is we are going to learn prior to arrival?  Who were we before the tapestry and after we leave it?

 

Perhaps there are many views on this as well. 

 

In my life alone I have had many different views of this tapestry.  So then it may depend upon your level of awareness or being conscious.  It seems the more you know the kinder the tapestry becomes and the more you see your self as a multifaceted individual living a life upon a grand and wonderful stage, being directed it seems by the Universe.

 

As I sit here today and look around, I see it as a neutral place, a silent carpet free of all words.  It is when you bring a thinking believing human upon the space that it then has meaning.

 

Imagine a room without a person in it.  Does it have a certain meaning?  Imagine a dress that is just silently draped over the back of a chair, neither are fighting, both just in harmony, but there is no mind with words discussing who is better who needs to leave, why are you that color, do you have to hang on me?

 

As we travel along on the tapestry called life, what are we bringing to it, what is our inner energies, our inner thoughts and beliefs about it, about all the rest of the folks traveling along, and what is going on inside of them, their heads, their thoughts and even what is coming out of them. 

 

It is like a magic carpet ride, we don’t know where it is we are going, how long we will stay on it and who we will travel with and what it is we will share.

 

As we travel along on this magical carpet ride, it seems we just have to do what it is we love doing, to listen to the whispers of our souls and head in that direction, to sometimes even go along with things that seem a little off the mark, and sure enough, that detour led us to the exact thing we needed. 

 

What I am trying not to do is drag my feet in hopes of stopping the carpet, instead I am holding on tight, with my face facing forward, wind in my hair, eagerly awaiting to see just which way it is we are going?  “Are we there yet?”

 

Are we where?  Where is it that we are going?  Is the destination our focus or is it the ride?  Who is asking?

Who needs to know? 

 

What will happen today, who will come and sit by me on this magical carpet ride, what will I say, what is my greeting, what will they say, and who is going to bring something to me? 

 

In this magical land, all things are possible you just have to believe!  Believe that everything is a miracle or nothing is, as Einstein said.

 

I believe in miracles.

 

 

My sister’s Birthday is today, I think it is her 40^th.  I have not seen this sister in about 8 years or so, and I have not spoken to her in close to five years.

 

It is a weird and I am not sure most would understand my view, my stance, but there is a huge hole in our relationship.

 

The hole can be defined as denial, or it could be defined as rebelling. I rebelled against the family where she stood to keep the family at all costs, by deny another side of her father.

 

There are two sides and I can’t see a middle ground, although often it is said that we can agree to disagree and then move forward.  To me those rules don’t seem to apply here or perhaps what holds us back is the middle ground.

 

Middle ground, where is it?  How can you find a place for two sisters to be sisters in this? 

 

It was from her home he was arrested and to her home he returned after the trial.  She sees a dad.  I see a man who tried to be a dad, but failed so horribly.  Failed at just being a dad.  Just a dad!

 

When she stood by the man she loved, she stood away from the little girl who was molested. 

 

Is there a middle ground, perhaps if you did nothing, stood by no one, ceased to move.  Is that possible, for it seems immediately two sides were open, there didn’t seem to be a third choice?

 

Was the third choice to move on learning from the past, seeing yourself as victim, but not staying there.

 

Is that the middle ground?  If so, she is not here yet.

 

I know where she stands, how she stands and why?  I know.  I understand her walk, her talk, and her actions all are supporting a life that is not in full reality. 

 

Being in partial reality is to be seeing only what you want to see and disregard the rest.  What if the rest is the hurtful part? 

 

To bring in the whole reality is to lose the father of your past, you lose more than you gain, or so it seems.

 

Do I really wish for all to see what I seen, to walk where I walked, to have to lose so much in order to gain your self?

 

It is the road that is less traveled for sure, a road that leads away from hurt and into healing. 

 

On this day, your Birthday, I do wish you to see what I see, to be where I am, even if it hurts like hell to get here.  I want for you what I want for myself, self-love.

 

If I could I would give to you the innocence of your birth, the playfulness of youth, the freedom of being just a little girl, in a place of pureness.  I would give back to you what you lost in our childhood home.

 

But that is not mine to give, it is what you already have, you just have lost your way.  Lost in the sea of dysfunction, tossed around in confusion, alone against the world of madness, unable to even remember yourself being the precious little girl!  I can see a little girl lost. 

 

My brother has a line in his blog….”I will wait for you until forever.”  Sister, I will wait for you until forever.