I have resisted starting this blog. It seems that everybody is blogging, tweeting and facebooking. A blog sounded like one more thing in my life requiring a babysitter. Its not just the blog itself, but my resistance to writing. I've had a love/hate relationship with writing my whole life. Do you keep a journal? Sure! Do you know where it is? I think so. The thing is, I've been learning soooo much in such a short period of time that I've found it necessary to get it down in writing so it doesn't slip away.
It's funny how we get so stuck in our own paradigms. I was so sure I hated writing, and yet, a few years ago I took a writing class at BYU and discovered that I actually enjoyed it. Even with that, I kept resisting the impulse to write. This kind of stuck attitude reminds me of meatloaf. A lot of people didn't care for their mother's meatloaf growing up. This is true in our family. Now that I'm in charge, I make meatloaf how I like it, and it so happens that the rest of my family also likes it. Yet, when they ask, "what's for dinner" and I say "Meatloaf", the response is an automatic eeewww!. I have to remind them that they actually like MY meatloaf, and of course they gobble it up as usual.
We resist all kinds of things - out of habit. New ideas are all around us, stuff that would make us more aware, happier, and more joyful, but we remain stuck in a box. How do we break out of the box? Many times it takes something dramatic, like a serious injury, or a life changing event. Just think how cool it would be to just start poking holes in the box. If you poke enough holes, pretty soon the light comes in and we start calling out to anyone out there with a hatchet! There is wisdom in doing this slowly, however. Like a bird hatching from it's egg, we need to experience the breaking out. We build our strength by our struggle, but we can peek out of the holes and receive wisdom, comfort and advice. There are lots of special souls already out of their boxes. They're all around us. However, they can't give us help until we ask for it, if they tried it would scare the crap out of us!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
My Mother's Gifts
My mother drives me crazy, I said. She’s always complaining and is sooo negative!
How ironic is that? Isn’t it crazy that we’re the last to see what is as plain as Christmas in November?
I’ve been reading. A lot. Boy, if you ever want to see your own weaknesses, pick up a few books, like The Dark Side of the Light Chasers, ponder and pray, and your issues will be presented to you one at a time on a silver platter.
My most recent awakening has been about how everyone we come in contact with is a part of us. When we make judgments of them, we’re criticizing ourselves. Just like a dang reflection. It’s not a pleasant realization, but wow. Now I can scan my past and find a plethora of bits and pieces that need to be gathered, sorted and accepted. This isn’t as bad as it sounds. That stuff has always been inside us, we’ve just never owned it. Now I can proudly claim parentage of all of me. Ok, so I’m a martyr, a complainer, etc…… Now what?
Once we own those pieces of ourselves that we’ve locked in the dungeons of our psyches for all this time, we can bring them into the light of day and get a good look at ‘em. Why do that? Well, for starters, the stuff our subconscious has been hiding from us can’t stand the light! When you take something scary out from under the bed and stick it in the window, it becomes a Halloween decoration instead of a monster.
The next step is to find the “gift” in that nasty bugger. Well, perhaps the giant leap you made onto the bed after turning out the light prepared your mind for the idea of trying out for Track and Field! The gifts are entirely individual. Sometimes you may be stumped, and that’s ok. It’s fine to set it aside and go on to the next one. In my case, this epiphany has blown me out of the water. Its one thing to go around and be non-judgmental of all the strangers at Harmon’s, quite another to realize that all the characteristic that drove me NUTS about my mother were MINE.
This stuff doesn’t go away by itself. Ever. My mom’s been dead for more than 2 years and I’m STILL complaining about her. Ouch. My whole life I purposely took a different path then she did. She was elegant, I’m a tomboy. She kept excellent records for EVERYTHING, I wing it. She was really gifted at keeping up her correspondence, I’m abysmal. These weren’t the irritants though, I considered her an affectionate porcupine because she wanted so much to be close, and yet she had these nasty spikes. Which I'll have to sort through. I haven’t yet categorized all my reflected faults, but slowly I’ll begin to recognize them like abandoned children.
I have thought of an excellent way to translate what I saw in my mother. Each of her annoying traits was like a grain of sand. My mother's greatest gift to me was to help me see that I'm an oyster! Now this can be a beautiful creative process instead of an annoyance. Once I clear all the charge from these negative qualities I'll be able to finally see my mother as she truly was, a beautiful, loving, misunderstood woman who never wanted anything for me but love and happiness.
How ironic is that? Isn’t it crazy that we’re the last to see what is as plain as Christmas in November?
I’ve been reading. A lot. Boy, if you ever want to see your own weaknesses, pick up a few books, like The Dark Side of the Light Chasers, ponder and pray, and your issues will be presented to you one at a time on a silver platter.
My most recent awakening has been about how everyone we come in contact with is a part of us. When we make judgments of them, we’re criticizing ourselves. Just like a dang reflection. It’s not a pleasant realization, but wow. Now I can scan my past and find a plethora of bits and pieces that need to be gathered, sorted and accepted. This isn’t as bad as it sounds. That stuff has always been inside us, we’ve just never owned it. Now I can proudly claim parentage of all of me. Ok, so I’m a martyr, a complainer, etc…… Now what?
Once we own those pieces of ourselves that we’ve locked in the dungeons of our psyches for all this time, we can bring them into the light of day and get a good look at ‘em. Why do that? Well, for starters, the stuff our subconscious has been hiding from us can’t stand the light! When you take something scary out from under the bed and stick it in the window, it becomes a Halloween decoration instead of a monster.
The next step is to find the “gift” in that nasty bugger. Well, perhaps the giant leap you made onto the bed after turning out the light prepared your mind for the idea of trying out for Track and Field! The gifts are entirely individual. Sometimes you may be stumped, and that’s ok. It’s fine to set it aside and go on to the next one. In my case, this epiphany has blown me out of the water. Its one thing to go around and be non-judgmental of all the strangers at Harmon’s, quite another to realize that all the characteristic that drove me NUTS about my mother were MINE.
This stuff doesn’t go away by itself. Ever. My mom’s been dead for more than 2 years and I’m STILL complaining about her. Ouch. My whole life I purposely took a different path then she did. She was elegant, I’m a tomboy. She kept excellent records for EVERYTHING, I wing it. She was really gifted at keeping up her correspondence, I’m abysmal. These weren’t the irritants though, I considered her an affectionate porcupine because she wanted so much to be close, and yet she had these nasty spikes. Which I'll have to sort through. I haven’t yet categorized all my reflected faults, but slowly I’ll begin to recognize them like abandoned children.
I have thought of an excellent way to translate what I saw in my mother. Each of her annoying traits was like a grain of sand. My mother's greatest gift to me was to help me see that I'm an oyster! Now this can be a beautiful creative process instead of an annoyance. Once I clear all the charge from these negative qualities I'll be able to finally see my mother as she truly was, a beautiful, loving, misunderstood woman who never wanted anything for me but love and happiness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)