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The familiar handwriting appeared on a card yesterday… my mother's.  

Inside….

"…I forgive you for not forgiving me.  Will always love you.  Sorry I wasn't the type of Mother you needed."

I don't really know what to do with these words; as familiar as her handwriting.

She feels my non-forgiveness…and yet I have forgiven her.

In the way I see forgiveness.

"Accepting that the past can be no different…"

I am not carrying negative energies about her. 

I am not wanting HER to be different than she is.

I have accepted who she is and the reality of her actions.

And, in doing so, I have chosen to end my relationship with her.

I am not sitting here holding onto grudges or wanting reality to be different or to have had a different past and even wanting a different "Type" of mother.

I am in complete and utter peace with who she is.

I have said good-bye to the illusion of a mother that opposes reality.

The forgiveness I have given her is to fully accept the truth of who she is.

To NOT want from her; that which she is incapable of giving.

In the process of healing myself or more accurately coming to grips with reality and leaving the illusion behind…I came face to face with the untruths about myself.

The illusional me and the reality me were worlds apart.

I had to earn my way back to being the kind of mother I needed as a child.

I didn't expect anyone to accept me at a lower self.

I expected me to rise to a higher Me.

I expected me to make tough choices.

To set up severe boundaries.

To have my actions match my words.

She is allowed to be any type of person she chooses to be.

I too, get the same freedom.

I am grateful she held the old pattern in place for me to see clearly what not to do.

She forgives Me for not forgiving her.

I wonder if I was the 'sin' that she couldn't forgive…

If my stance was unforgivable…but is something she worked to forgive.

My stance, my whole journey since our parting, has been to accept reality and its truth and to be authentically Me.

This to me is more of what she is forgiving me for.

For being my truth.

A sin, perhaps, in her eyes.

Maybe she is accepting me….for who I am.

An unforgiving daughter.

 

Interesting to note….I am the unforgiving daughter….the one who would not accept that the past could be any different.

In her eyes; If I could see the past differently….I would be forgiving.

Even for my mother.

I say No to your request

and, say Yes to Me.

The type of person I needed; I found within me.

 

 

The ladies of WIND sang last night. I loved that we are not 'singers' but we used our voices and fearlessly shared Christmas songs.   

We knew the general tunes and used phones to follow the lyrics.  

I love that it doesn't truly matter how you sing; but that you sing.  

What we gave was our voices…

Our hearts

And, it was so very well received.

We added a festive tone…and transported them.

Singing gave me energy and filled me with song.

One woman used her hands to play along on an invisible piano.

Priceless

Another said…."Thank you, Thank you…Thank you."

Joy to the world….

Women of WIND continue to expand, explore and evolve…I so love our connections;

with each other and those who we engage with.

I look forward to another year….but mostly our next event.

Merry Christmas my favorite ladies of WIND!

There are well meaning phrases we take for granted and do not pause to think about their unintended burden.

"What a Joy, she has brought to your life…." is one.

The bringer of Joy, can have negative consequences on so many levels…for the "one who brings Joy".

Of course I am speaking of my delightful happy granddaughter, and the energy she  innately spills forth, just being her.

She is Joy personified.

But so are we all. 

Maybe a better phrase is "She has brought MORE joy"… to an already joyful bunch of humans. 

I would hate to assign her the task of making me happy, or happier, or anything.

I am responsible for my state of being; always.

She will learn, that she too is in charge of hers.

 

 

I am deeply sensitive to the idea of codependent feelings. Of being the bringer of peace, of love and of joy.  I was schooled to believe that it was my job to keep others in a positive state of being.  And, it was a huge burden to bear.

I want my legacy to be one where we are all independent and the keeper of our own peace, love, and joy.

That we learn to say yes to the things that fulfill us and no to the things that don't.

I want my granddaughter to always have the freedom to be and do exactly as she feels is her soul's delight.

I LOVE that she delights in Me, and Much as I delight in her.

We are crazy for each other….

We are two people in joy meeting!

While I know most are not intending anything malice or hurtful when the simply state, "What joy she brings to your life…" I am aware of the underlying agenda the old consciousness meant by this.

In the old system, we were not independent… but codependent, and relied on each other to hold our emotions.

I am not sure how this started but I do know the consequences of being somebody's joy.  They then own you and your voice and your choice.  For you are then, never allowed to do anything that will take "JOY" from their worlds.

You will lose your life to be their joy.

When I broke away from the codependent lifestyle, it upset many who I used to cater to.   

I would love for my granddaughter to never know what codependent feels like.  She will at least get that from me.  I want for her, what again, delights her soul!  Just as I want for me and everyone, what delights ours.  

If each of us become joy, love and peace personified….our planet will be joy full!

 

She chose her guest list carefully.  She paid attention to the smallest of details, she listened to what brought her peace, and what she loved….what felt happy and fun for her; and when tied all together….it was incredible.

It is hard to articulate how this is a metaphor for life; that by what we allow or don't allow, what we say yes to or no to… Matters.

Each small detail weaves itself into the tapestry of moments.

Creating you and your moments.  The milestones and just normal routines are all created in your choices. How you vote each item in or out.

This Wedding reflected my daughter and her husband.  Their joy with games allowed us all the opportunity to play and be a kid again.

Perhaps it was the playfulness, and the familiarity to close friends and family, that created the energy of the day.  It was wedding picnic…

It was an authentically HER day.  She didn't have to do that which she didn't want to; what made her feel uncomfortable or out of sorts.  She moved around her day with ease….being herself.

This allowed the rest of us to be ourselves too. We didn't have to put on a social face, just be ourselves in fancy clothes.

And, even swim in fancy clothes.  OH MY God, this was the best way to end the long day of fun…cooling off and washing off our fancy clothes!

Her friends have become my friends. My daughters…my friends.  I LOVE this the most!

Right before the plunge!  Or after…

A wedding day that was all about being you!  About sharing your special day with friends, with those who you feel connected to.  Those who will celebrate you and your love.

Her wedding was a complete reflection of the beautiful, playful, quiet, loving, detail oriented…her.

We all felt honored to be chosen to be part of her day.

As the mother of the bride, I felt affirmed in all the tough choices I have had to make over the past many years.  For in doing so, she too, could make her own choices…it has given her the power to empower herself.

I feel that by being a strong woman…she had a model…to be totally herself!

As I rolled thoughts about secrets around and around, as well as my feelings of being duped, it came to me that there are markers of abuse tagged into the secrets.

Or for sure living a double life.

It just didn't make sense that I was so invested in whether there be full disclosure in someone's personal life or not.

I couldn't jive the PTSD feelings and sense of betrayal that comes when we are made aware of this second life.

As soon as I acknowledged my feelings of PTSD, or the over-reaction to new information, it made sense.

How would I not be wary of 'keeping secrets' or knowing that a person has a double life?  This dance is where my anxiety come from and even my desire to control.

I want to make sure that what I see is what I get….I don't want surprise characters popping up.

And, rightly so.

Comfort for me lies in knowing a person will grow and change, but in positive ways. That the surprises in getting to know someone don't include parts of them that need to be hidden away.

That was my father.  

Parts and interactions that didn't see the light of day; to be done in secret…

Without OTHERS knowing.

So, anytime there are secrets, unless for a surprise party….I am beyond wary and will exit from that party.   I couldn't when I was a child; but I can today.

I feel better knowing that I am not over-reacting, but it is normal coming from whence I came.

The reason so many children believe that the abuse is their fault or carry the blame is that they agree to carry its secrets.  Agree to mask their feelings and act like all is well. That the relationship 'hasn't change' due to the abuse.

I know that in my friendships, they are not asking me to hide abuse.

They are only asking me to be okay with their secret lives.

I fail horribly with this.

I don't know who they are now, and my trust plummets.

I can understand why they don't want to disclose; but I don't know why they themselves are okay hiding.

The dance between what we see and what we are not supposed to see is so similar to my childhood, it is no wonder I have issues with this.  

It isn't as personal to them as I thought.  It is much more about what I now seek….in people I am friends with.

I approach all my friendships with the same things I had as a child.  

I bring love, trust and friendship.

However, unlike my childhood.  I will back away when you try and engage me in the dark part of your world.  

In my innocence, as a child, I went along with the secrets….and saw only the father. In the end; I didn't get the father minus the secrets.

In fact, what was hidden, was what touched me the most, and affected my life.

It wasn't that I didn't love enough or wasn't a good secret keeper that wrecked that relationship.   

It was wasn't me…

No matter what I would have done; he decided his character, not I.

When the secrets spilled out, A loving father didn't appear.  

It wasn't about me at all.

I love that I am okay, not keeping your secrets. That I require friendships that can be lived out loud in the light of day.

I get nervous when I catch the hint that something needs to be hidden.

And, that doesn't make me a bad friend.

When my son was little and he had to duck down behind the seat of the bus to play with a Lighter, my husband said to him.  "If you have to hide behind a bus seat….(You know, it isn't something you should be doing.)"

If part of your life is lived hiding behind the bus seat….you may want to ask yourself why?

 

 

 

In the past few days, I have had conversations….well maybe the past few weeks, about friends with secrets.  Or maybe just things we are silent about.  Not silent with friends; but expecting friends then to be silent about it.  To give information and for it to be held by that person.  

Like we become a container for their truth.

Isn't it odd that we want to keep the truth hidden.  What does that say then, about their lives?  If the truth isn't shown, than what is?  And, are we then keepers of the truth or actively hiding it and participating in the building of the fake life?

What are good friends for?

Are they to help you live out loud… your truth, or to decorate your fake life?

If it isn't our place to share your truth…than are you making us partners in keeping silent, your secret life?

I find as I am older or maybe more transparent, that I don't like playing dress up with lives.

It actually makes it seem like you have a fake friend and then a real one.  

Which friend would be most upset by the truth being revealed?

I don't believe it would be the truthful one?

There has to be benefits or payoffs or something to the fake identity, the one who lives minus the truth.

What is it?

How would it be more beneficial to live a fake life…one where you know the truth; but you don't live it.

Or is to to have the best of two worlds?

Is it possible to live two different happy lives?

What happens to us friends who know there are two lives going on?

How can it be possible to be supportive of two very different lives?  And why are we the bad guys for getting tired of the game of hide the life?

And, who is the real friend? 

Who are we really friends with?

The mask or the person behind the mask?

Do we have to don a mask too in order to be your friend?

One that is compliant and an accomplice in creating a whole life for the mask?

While behind the mask sits the person who is unable to live mask-less.

Are we not agreeing, by our silence, that the truth is shameful and too ugly to see the light of day?

But isn't the truth who you are…no matter what mask you put on in your social world?

And, does the mask really hide anything for your actions speak louder than our silence?

I am confused when asked to participate in this.  I lose energy or enthusiasm for wanting to spend time there.  It seems pointless to help create a life that isn't based on the truth.  I don't want to wear a mask myself and I am surely not interested in painting over the truth for someone else.

Even if the mask will make them happy and feel loved.

Read that again.

Wearing a mask will make them happy and feel loved.

Wow.

When who I want to be with is the one behind the mask.

It takes courage to be a life that wears no mask.

"Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage."  Maya Angelou

I don't know what to do with people who are asking me to be friends with their mask…too.

It is like there is a third wheel in our friendship…one that is eroding the soul and distancing them from their truth.  

The less interested I am in the mask….and the more they need the mask, the bigger the space between us grows.  Until the gap is so big, our friendship will be a cordial way and hello.

And in the end, who will be at fault when the friendship fails?

Will it be the one wearing the mask or the one who despises the mask?

Is it the one with the secrets or the one who doesn't want to keep silent?

And, can you be authentic and non-transparent?

Like a closet transparent person?

My ability to make friends with masks and trust them and grow with them is an ability I lost.

When I was a mask….I was friends with masks.

When mine was ripped off….so went the power to believe in the mask.

I often feel like a failure when I can't just be okay with the mask. That why do I need to get beneath it?  Why do I have to always seek the truth in others?

And, on the other hand, I feel used when others ask me to engage in their mask.

Like I am not worthy of a relationship with truth.

Secrets…to me is where the real person lives.

I lived for 46 years under a mask.

And, for 10 years, striving to remain mask free.

If you build a friendship/relationship that begins with a mask or needs one to continue…will it not be one where the truth isn't welcome?  And, if the truth isn't welcome…is it a true friend?

This flower blooms from a sticker bush…amidst all the pokey prickly things…

I believe real love and friendships blossom where masks are not welcome or needed.  Where we encourage and support a life that is mask free.  

Regardless of the pains and things that hurt…beauty blooms from the truth.

It took great courage for me to expose and own all my secrets and my family secrets.  But, I love who I am exposed…far more than I ever even liked the old me.

And, I have great admiration, love and interest, in what lies behind the mask.

Please don't ask me to be friends with your mask…or carry your secrets.

Instead ask me to be there as you walk mask less.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While kayaking Sunday morning with a friend, we noticed something really strange that went against what we had been taught, "to go with the flow".

When we were going with the waves, we had a terrible time steering the kayak, we kept getting turned in a direction we didn't want to go in.

We had to be very vigilant to keep us heading correctly, and we felt out of control.

Yet, when we headed into the waves, we could keep our kayaks heading straight.

We were both amazed at how it contradicted the sentiments of "going with the flow".

A thought came to me this morning, that when we tried to steer our boat as we flowed, it didn't work.  However, if we gave up and went with the flow….we flowed where it took us, but not where we wanted to go.

If you look at this as a metaphor for life, you can see the similarities.

Often the easy route is to let the flow take you.  

You may go easily where it leads but you yourself are not in control; you are at the mercy of its waves.

Going against the easy flow way, you will have control and set your destination…it is harder but you will go where you want.

What happened when we were in the flow….and out of control, we lost our concentration and the meditation of our rhythm…for we were bumping into each other and drifting oddly.  

However, when we both were in control and heading into the path of most resistance, we were steady.  Our conversation and paddling were not disrupted by the odd twists and turns.

In the controlled paddle, we could forget the undercurrents and be with ourselves.

I know this echoes in real life.

The false sense of ease, keeps you out of control with your own goal or destination; you are at the mercy of others.   You don't have to do anything, but you don't control anything either.  You just bobble around on life's surface.

I love how nature teaches us about our own nature.

This living experience and the feelings I had while going with the waves or against will stay with me.

To be in control, you have to go against the flow.

 

The impact of being taught not to judge leaves us living a life without boundaries.

If you can't disconnect in a relationship due to bad behavior, when would you disconnect?

The crux of my incredulousness, has to be this vein of thought; that judging is wrong and who are you to judge?  

It is a direct shot at your own self-esteem, worth, and value.

Not only is the focus deflected off of the person who is acting poorly; but the victim's self worth is now in question.  

It is highly suggested, that only the folks who have lived a sin free life can judge…the rest have no right to separate themselves from the riff raff of society.

Only the perfect can set boundaries…but they will tell you, there is no perfect human being, so no one on the human plane has the right to judge another…leaving only God to judge.  

This leaves us with no choice but to remain civil, kind and loving, no matter how we are treated.

It is a mindset that keeps the good folks feeling less than….and unable to stand against those who harm them.  

A society where we are all equal; but in a lesser degree.

To lower the common denominator to the value of the abuser/sinner/wrongdoer.

This to me IS what makes a dysfunctional family dysfunctional.  We are all brought down to the lowest level in the home.

How can a family end abuse, when there is no self-worth or self-esteem?  And, how can you get it when you don't have the right to set up boundaries; due to their low value of you?

I know, that I am seen as insane, mental, cold hearted, judging, etc, etc, etc.  Just for the simple fact, that I set up boundaries.  I didn't abuse anyone…but, I did set up boundaries.  This is the ultimate of bad behavior in the eyes of many.

The ill behavior, okay criminal behavior of my father wasn't as egregious as mine.

My daring to actually, and reasonably conclude a new opinion was the ultimate breech in many relationships.  I could no longer be trusted to not see and blindly get along.

This unruly behavior of my judging, was not accepted.

Who did I think I was, to judge someone and set up boundaries?

It has never been about what my father did to me, but my value as a human being.

I wasn't seen as someone of value, to protect or treat kindly.

It wasn't that the sin was of great value; but that I wasn't.

Our worth has to be great in their eyes in order to not hurt or protect….and in their eyes, I wasn't.  It isn't about the sin or crime, but about our value.  Somehow I was equal to my father's crime, in value.  Worthy of abuse.

When an individual has no value within a family unit….abuse is not only common, but the norm.

In homes where the child and individual are valued, there will be no abuse….whether it be physical, emotional, or sexual.  

Abuse can't happen when self value is present.

When you feel worthy…you see worth.

When you feel value….you value others.

The only reason abuse can flourish IS when there is no sense of self worth for self and others.

When you feel the right to judge, you have value.

And, when you feel valuable, you will no longer stay in relationships that lower who you are.

I love myself enough….to Judge!

I value myself enough to Judge.

I love that I am worthy to judge!

This pattern of self-worth is what changes a home from dysfunctional to love.

In my home we now have value.

Each individual is priceless!

 

 

 

 

In listening to, "Silent Sister" by Diane Chamberlin….she had a line…."Anxiety entered the car, like a third passenger."

I loved this description. 

It shows the hugeness of what we carry.

Mine would read, "Denial entered the car like a third person.

It truly lives with us like a siamese twin.

An unwanted passenger that speaks for us and makes choices based up its needs. It truly is a passenger in our lives that has the drivers seat.

Another part in this fictional book, she talks about healing the Mind and the Soul, as two very different things.

I wonder about this.

Did I have to heal my mind and then also heal my soul?  I would even say, my heart.

That it wasn't enough to just correct the definitions in my mind, but I had to allow my neglected soul to live…and my broken heart to mend.

The mind is where my thoughts about reality were corrected.

My soul had to speak its truth and live by it.

My heart had to separate itself from those whose love hurt.

I love how authors can write simple but deeply profound sentences.

Art of words.

I spent some time at the Beach House yesterday afternoon and evening, the one that is For Sale…and it wasn't until I was mowing the grass that waves of emotion overcame me.

First I was overcome by her neglect or the lack of tender grooming.  It felt to me like I was taking care of a long forgotten friend as I mowed.

A friend who took such great care of me when I needed it the most.

I recalled the days and nights I spent there, when the inside of me was a complete mess.  I was soothed by her porch, view, sunrises, and the total space for me to just be in a place of rest.

And, rest I did.

On her rocky shore, refreshing waters, cool breezes.  

The sound of waves rocking me to sleep.

Her value to me is far beyond market value; she carries years of memories, of laughter and tears.  Of little voices and toddler swimsuits, of friends enjoying hot afternoons. Children deep into their imaginations creating wonderfully.  Of star filled skies at night, as we camped on her generous porch.

Family gathered enjoying the water, card games and solitude of books.  

She was disconnected from the outside, no phones, no TV, no computer hook up….we were transported to the "Be Here Now" space.

More moments than I can count I thanked her, with tears of gratitude and heart felt sighs as I wearily rested on her shores.  Trying to find my footing; again.

As I mowed her tangled overgrown lawn, I felt that I was preparing her for her adoption. That soon another person will be receiving her gifts.

And I wondered if they will look at her many faults or just accept her like we did.

She wasn't the bright and shining perfect beach cottage with everything pristine, she was completely imperfectly perfect.  Her charms lie what you see and do along her shoreline.  

I didn't own her.  She wasn't mine to care for and yet I did.  At least in the many summers we spent weeks there.  In the past few years, I spent less and less time there.  Life changed or lives changed and I guess I believed when I had time again, she would be waiting.  

It was to prepare a special friend for our parting.  How do you say Good Bye?

She will always be remembered with great reverence and love.   

Our memories we take.

I had sent wishes that she will be adopted by loving folks who will do as we did…

Step into her space and be soothed by the loving nature that is her.

She is a huge part of our summer memories.  Her porch awaits more laughter, colorful towels, grilling smells, running feet and giggles.

Her shoreline, swimming, golf ball chasing, dog fetching sticks, mermaid rock diving, sun soaking, inner tube floating, boat building, kayaking….fun.

My life and my children's lives all have been better because we had the luxury of enjoying our summers at the Beach House.  Due to the lack of outside communication we connected with nature and ourselves.

 

Beauty abounds everywhere… just paddles along her shore.

I can't imagine our lives without her.

And, I am so grateful to have had her this long.

It truly is like saying good bye to an old friend.