Thank You

I don't think people know how much they mean to me. I should tell them, but just thinking about it my nose is tingling and my eyes are welling up. Any little thing is likely to bring me up short.

Why?

Because I have a hard time believing I am worthy of thought, consideration, affection. The significant people in my life have gone to great pains to teach me that. My kids though...they are everything a wounded heart needs. But I still tell myself, children love their most awful parents. I loved my mom. She was not good for any of us kids.

So, I am trying to get through this feeling of being undeserving. I look at the words and actions of my kind friends and know, if I could just bypass myself, reaching out to them means they reach back.

Every little thing is so significant I feel as though I owe my life for the kindness shared with me. It is really, truly and deeply felt by me. Appreciated even if I don't have the words or ability to express it to you.

An Afternoon with my Wounded Child

I cautiously approached my wounded child today. She looked up at me through unkempt hair, clothes grubby and face streaked with dirt and tears. She was wearing an iron-on shirt with a little girl playing baseball and the words "Girls can Do Anything Boys can Do" across the top. It, like her flared cords looked like they needed a wash. On her feet were the brown bobos I had always detested and been embarrassed to wear.

Her look to me had the merest moment of hope, but that was quickly covered by a stoic expression. Oh how it hurt to see that on the outside on a face that young! I glared at the faded outlines of teachers, librarians, neighbors that surrounded her and never said anything. There she was, reaching for the book she always had ready beside her. I knew what would happen, she'd fall into that book, withdrawing from the world and walking next to the characters, their lives almost more real than her own.

I reached for her hand before she could open it and pulled her into my lap. "It's okay. I'm here and I'll always be here." She sat stiffly on my lap for a moment, but as I stroked her hair, she slowly melted into me, sobbing. I didn't have to ask why she was crying. I knew. I knew she felt like her mother didn't love her, her father abandoned her. I knew she felt she was unworthy of love and tried desperately to make up for that by being good, but her good was never enough to earn the love she craved. She only saw a future of more of the same, and that was true in a way. Dad would still rely on his wife to know the parenting, only this time it would be a stepmom who had her own wounded child inside. Even this girl-child's marriage, that started out so promising and so full of love would fail her longing to be loved just because she IS.

I whispered in her ear about hope, about faith, about love. "There is One who Loves you," I told her, "He loves you now and will always love you. It is through Him that you will find your peace and your love on earth."

I also told her something that was very hard for someone my age to understand, let alone a small child.

"You are loved. But because of who you are, your perception might not always be the truth. Sometimes you live in your fantasy as reality and try to make your reality a fantasy. It is hard to see things with clear eyes when they are full of tears, but you can. You can see how your friends and family love you- in their way. They too have their own way of looking at things, their own bruises from their past. But they are just as capable of love as you are, they might show it differently."

When the sobs faded to deep breaths, I held her awhile longer, our hearts beating as one. For that time, we were both at peace. When she awoke, I gave her a bath and watched the grime of the past slide off and shimmer on the surface of the water. Clean, dressed and feeling more peaceful, I led her to a sunlit park. I knew she had bruises deep inside that would take more time to heal, but for now she had started the process.

I introduced her to the two people in the world that I knew loved her in the way her childish heart wanted. Unconditional and with the giving joy kids have, my children ran to her and held her hands. As they tumbled in the grass together, laughing, I knew that we would all be fine. The child inside me could help me love my children in the way they needed, and their love could be part of her healing.

The nature of God?

A good friend recently remarked to me that she was surprised to hear me speaking so much from the Christian perspective (and I have lately). She thought of me as more the pagan-mother-earth-goddess type (M- correct me if I put this wrong ;) ).

I am surprised too, to be honest. I have long felt that there's a definite feminine spirit out there, and I can totally believe in spirits within trees and the forest and just breathing in and out the life around us.

But what has worked for me, always, at my worst was turning to God. Most recently, learning to let go. I suppose it could all be an illusion, but it's working and that's what matters. If my faith turns out to be an illusion, well, more benign things have hurt me worse that the feeling of peace through prayer.

I've been reading more theology lately, and I read somewhere (probably in CS Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, but don't quote me on this) that we often think we 'know' who and what God is. We don't. We are mere humans, we have limited knowledge and words. We can only imagine what we know. Everything we imagine is based off of something that's already been there.

So perhaps God is more than even the Bible says. Perhaps there is a feminine form to God that history has erased. Perhaps the spirit pulsing through the world around us is of one being, but one being of so many shades of colors, depths and complexities that to look upon it and to know it fully would be our undoing. Perhaps we need to compartmentalize what can't be.

I do know that, for right now, I need to have faith in God. So it's there. I need to believe that I am lovable, so I believe that Jesus died, even for me; so how am I to denigrate that sacrifice? But I can also believe that I, as a mere human, can never know the true nature of God, so I withhold my judgments on which faith is right or wrong. It is not to me to choose for God.

The Moon

So, last night we spent time as a family looking at the moon. I noticed something. With the naked eye, there is a huge contrast. There are definite shadows and areas of light. Through the telescope, you see more. You see the trenches and the craters and the gouges, marks of events that changed the landscape of the moon. But you don't see the dark and the light.

I feel like the moon sometimes. When I am right with myself and letting God in, moment by moment, I can see the gouges and craters that have made me. I can appreciate them for what they are, even see a small shadow here and there. But there's not the huge demarcation between light and dark. I've been feeling that evenness for almost two months now. I've been amazed at how much of a change there has been. I have also, frankly, been on the verge of terrified that my old self will come back. Knowing that it is likely is why I have been putting my support network into place. The pieces are lined up, but the slowness of life during the holiday season has dictated that they aren't actually in place yet.

So the contrast came back Friday night. I kept trying to hold onto the areas of light, but the shadows kept creeping up. I began feeling like I hated myself. I began to feel a hurt so bad it was physical. At one point, I scratched my arm to try and distract myself. Usually there's a sting and a dull ache after that. It went away too quickly. By the next morning there was no evidence, until I took a shower and the dull sting was there when the water hit. I was relieved to be reminded, but more relieved that while the pain had been just as intense in my heart, my reaction had diminished. I focused on the whole of my landscape, not just my shadows. I went there and managed to come back, maybe not unscathed, but certainly not battle scarred as was so often the case before. My fear had been realized and I moved through it. I walked it out. And that will give me strength the next time. The shadows will always be there, it is just in how I see them and respond.

For a smile, here's a pic P. took of the moon last night through the telescope- it's not great, camera phone pics never are. But the moon shines brightly. Today during church, I noticed during a song that so often the pictures that represent God are of the sun and sunlight. I started thinking the male and female perspective, old traditions, Apollo, the Goddess as represented by the phases of the moon...and I know that for now, to me, God is seen through the moon. The light and dark, the push and pull. The reflection of the sunlight.

What's the Flip Side?

So, there's a lot of stress going on in my life right now. The totally amazing part to me is that I am not falling apart like I usually do. Oh, I have my moments. But they are not as low as my lows used to be. I am in total amazement and it honestly feels like a little miracle to me. Where are all the self recriminations? the tangible pain inside?

For instance, yesterday was a low day. Sad thoughts followed me around like a cloud of annoying gnats. They annoyed me, there was some small pain, but they weren't the hornets they would have usually been. after awhile, I realized how those thoughts were affecting my attitude, I was getting short with the kids and not doing the chores that needed to be done. So I said a short prayer and took a deep breath, acknowledging that I needed to let go. And I did. The effect was almost immediate. I was smiling and joking with the kids.

Guys, this feels so good. It's like when I have a migraine and it finally goes away. The non-pain I used to take for granted is such a blessed relief. I can't go back to before. I want to hold onto this forever. I am amazed at the miracle that has taken place in me and intend to hold onto it.

what i am doing right

With all my negativity lately, I thought maybe I should think about the good things.

I have been allowing myself more creative outlets. Writing more, even if most of it is for this blog.

I have been keeping the house orderly, although every surface could use a good wipedown.

I'm accomplishing more and making less excuses for what I don't do. I allow myself lazy time without guilt.

I am recognizing in my head (if not my heart) that I deserve to be loved. That I deserve time to myself. That I deserve to be an individual.

I am letting go of some resentments, some slower than others, but still, it's an accomplishment.

I am going out and doing things of my own accord; over the years, moreso in the past two, I have made myself a shut-in off and on. Doing things that don't have to be done is a big step.

I suppose, what is most hard to hold onto, is looking forward to a better future than my past (I have always lived under the assumption that things would get worse- woah- I'm a pessimist- who knew!) Even though the past is hard, there is the chance of a brighter future as long as I don't let anyone, especially myself, stand in the way.

saying goodbye

One more post for the day (on a roll, huh?)

Recently I left a group I have been in for years. I got to the point that seeing interactions/non-interactions was a negative experience to me. Let me emphasize: to me. It's all about my perception and what I could handle. Individually, they are fantastic women. Even as a group, just wonderful. But the particular dynamics weren't something I could handle in my life at this point.

I didn't want to leave in a huff of drama, like I have seen others leave email loops. The melodramatic good-bye posts are often really a ploy to get others to beg them to stay. So I just quietly left, figuring nobody would notice/comment for awhile.

What was there to say? No matter how I say it, it would seem like an accusation. Ya'll aren't meeting my needs at this point and I would like to move on instead of trying to live in the past and recapture the golden years. But that reads wrong, since (as the old break-up line says) its not you (all), it's me. It's my lack of the social ins and outs that other women seem to have. It's my fear of asking for help while intensily longing to have very close connections. I don't expect anybody else to meet my needs as I often don't even know what my needs are.

I just wanted to leave while leaving was a strength for me. While I was doing it for the right reasons, to decrease the negative feelings I have. The only problem, is because I have seperated myself so quietly, and I already have a habit of not reaching out, I fear that I have cut myself out of their lives completely rather than just this aspect of it. And par for the course, I don't know how to fix it.

Gotta Love Dove!

http://www.boardsmag.com/screeningroom/commercials/3421/

There are more and more "the man behind the curtain" sites these days, but I think this video from Dove really makes it real, esp. for the younger crowd. What got me is the photo editing of an already beautiful woman.

I shudder to think that my daughter will grow up in a world that compares her to these hybrid cyber-models. I can only hope the pendulum is swinging the other way- and soon.

Other before/after sites:
http://www.fluideffect.com/ (Select potfolio and then before and after)
http://homepage.mac.com/gapodaca/digital/bikini/bikini1.html
http://demo.fb.se/e/girlpower/