Tag: #murkywatersofadolescence

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Beach Blankets, Bookstores, and Blog Posts

I’ve had a very hard time slowing lately. So semi-unintentionally ending up at the beach today is likely no accident. My love and I have the day off together, and the only thing I came across was to bring her to RJ Julia Independent Book Sellers in Madison, CT. Coincidentally, they also have a cafe. The Chardonnay Rosemary cupcake is particularly a delight. My weight watchers program is going fabulously thanks for asking šŸ˜‰ ha.

Hammonasset Beach is a delight for the senses. How is it that I have been so engrossed in the seemingly necessary non-magical aspects of life, that I have not taken more time for such things? Slow down Christina. “But how?”, she asks. I have not felt my toes in the sand for as long as I can remember. And even when I have, my mind scurries like Beatles scattering in a beam of light, to the next, and the next great indulgence. I’m beginning ten more things just as I’ve opened the cover of one.

I began to write a blog post last Sunday. My family and I attended the Pride Festival in Northampton, Massachusetts. I felt inspired to share some pieces of my journey with being a lesbian, and why we march. But that got lost in the abyss of motherhood and “wifery”, and the pure presence I am trying so hard to bestow my loved ones with. I am finding with how I am wired this is not the easiest task.

Last night I came home from a day of seeing clients. My son seemed a bit frustrated with a response I gave him, likely something to do with finances. When overwhelmed (which happens easily and often for me) my first instinct seems to be to pull my turtle head into its shell and disappear. Don’t get me wrong from inside the shell I am still orchestrating the events that are vital to the running of our lives, but I wouldn’t say that you could view my investment from this angle. Particularly if your young eyes are not yet engineered to see in that fashion yet.

Anyway what has stayed with me the most since our conversation is the improvement in our interaction this time, and how rare a gift it is to even be able to recognize this. In the past I would have taken him saying that I am not listening and involved in things that are important to him, as a personal arrow imbedded straight through the heart. What this looks like in action is the tried and true mother’s sonnet about how much they sacrifice for their children, and essentially invalidating the young lads every feeling. My more fragile ego has not been immune to creating such havoc in my younger days. Ok let’s be real probably last year even.

My heart whispered to my ego to pull back and wait, that it’s services were not quite needed yet, and to stay to find out the deeper cause. When listening ears wrapped his words tenderly in their arms, what rose to the surface was only pain. All anger had been stripped away, and the tears fell. The arrow was still embedded in the heart, but as I extracted it, feeling every tear… this time I thought, “we can fix this, we are all in this time, and we can fix this.” And then I summoned all the fragmented parts of my self for a great meeting and said, “let’s get started, we have a lot of work to do!”

This morning even amidst my determination to write and be present for date day, I leaned over to pick up my phone and send him a text.

“I wanted to tell you thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I think we both did a good job. Could have gone not so well in the past right ?! I love you! Youā€™re right, I get so focused on one area, all or nothing, that if others are running themselves, I take a deep sigh of relief and keep focusing. Iā€™m sorry. And I am quite sure if it isnā€™t something you didnā€™t bring to my attention that would be a huge regret when that time has passed. Someday you will be busy with your own life and Iā€™ll be wishing you would call or I could hear about ā€œschoolā€…

Iā€™m sorry and I love you. Iā€™ll work on it and you may have to help me because of how my brain seems to work.”

This blog post is somewhat unfinished. I got caught up in a writing course I am taking and being fully present for myself in all her forms. I chose me. Sometimes I cannot simultaneously show me and save me…. I chose to save her this time, and to have faith I could show her whenever I am ready, in whatever way feels the best for me. To do the deed in joy versus obligation: this is what I am working on.

Write on writer’s, carry on gentle hearts….

the sun is shining….

Waiting to bless you with it’s sweet kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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They need us to rise…

Ask people what they need and how we can love them better!

I am having an inspired morning and want to share a couple of things. A realization I had just this morning is that we need to learn how to love one another beyond loving in just the ways we know how. What I knew about love for a long time left me not behaving very well. I didn’t create space or have room to let love grow. I had deep and crushing insecurities and at the drop of a hat (or more appropriately the pull of a trigger), they would explode like shrapnel tearing apart my relationships and then my life. I would have to rebuild again, and I did this under the weight of crushing shame. I had friends even stop hanging out with me, because I had a new partner, they didn’t like that change. Did they think I did? Did they think that my relationships didn’t work because I didn’t desperately want them to? We need to stop shaming others people. We need to learn how, and when, and why we do this so we can stop.

I had to learn my way out of this space and way of existing, and the cost of that learning has not been cheap. I’ve lived bathed in anxiety. I have a chronic illness now, whether you say it’s genetics or extreme stress most of my life has been exhausting. Lots caused by my thinking as much as my circumstances. This is why we need to be educated on these matters, and the time and encouragement to fully explore our own thoughts and minds without being called selfish, or crazy, or somehow wrong! Without being told how to live and love based on one perspective.

Parents tell their children how to live all the time, and don’t realize they are showing them by modeling, not with their words. We are sometimes accidentally angry with our children for not being who we want them to be, even when they may be being courageous. We can accidentally crush their tiny spirits with all of our fear of failure as parents, and we need to be aware of this.

It isn’t just natural knowing how to live we need to be taught, and these days we are taught by the extreme opposite of thinking about who we are and what we want of life and how we want to be loved, and if we are loving others well. These days our teachers are YouTube videos and scrolling Instagram, and my kids are left alone on those platforms as well, while I’m busy. Now I’ve given out some great recommendations to clients and friends about fantastic YouTube videos, it isn’t all bad. But when kids are just left to learn from whatever they come across with little guidance or presence because it has been replaced, then we are heading to a scary place.

Do you know that our children are scared to death right now? They are in my office all the time. All they hear about is that the sea is rising, and that you can be shot while in class, and that they won’t have any financial future. Where is the hope? We have to teach them how they can rise to any occasion, because it’s what humanity is famous for. Someone will rise and they will lead, and it can’t all be bad. Our children are stressed, and anxious, and depressed, and lonely. They need us to rise. THEY NEED US TO RISE.

This means we are the teachers of compassion, empathy, understanding, and hope. The teachers of how small changes can make a difference, rather than doing nothing because of overwhelm. This has been one of my biggest battles. As an HSP I feel so much I become crushed under the weight, leading to my main focus being how to comfort myself. I’ve had to learn my way out of this cycle. We need to make the change from bogged down hopeLESS to hopeFULL.

Our children watch every action we make and every word we say. So spend some time thinking what they are seeing you do, because ultimately that is the cycle they will repeat until they resolve their personal tasks. We can make that an easier or a more difficult process for them. The number one thing they want is to see you interested in who they are as a person, not who you wish they would be. We must see our children, and our lovers, and our friends and neighbors, and the stranger on the corner through generous eyes.

We must do this whether or not it is deserved in a moment. We must do this because of who we are, and not because of any inauthentic reason. Because a person who is believed in and encouraged is a thousand times more likely to be successful at becoming who they are.

This does not mean we allow ourselves to be treated badly by subjecting ourselves to poor treatment. That isn’t what I’m suggesting. Always exercise and be aware of your personal boundaries, that is loving of self. When you’re confident in your boundaries it becomes easier to love with your whole self and heart, that healing variety of love, because you’ll trust in your ability to know where your energy is productive and where it isn’t.

Our children need us people… WE MUST RISE. We must educate and love harder and with more of a depth to our understanding. So kids have permission to understand themselves and to grow. So kids have permission to expand, and we aren’t unintentionally asking them to shrink to fit our expectations.

Even good intentions must be examined, because many things we do are not conscious.

 

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ā€œNot enoughā€ is a filthy liar …

I’ve been lost in the trenches lately. The high of finally finding a healthy love has waned into the realities of blending a family, and helping teens navigate the murky waters of adolescence. And that is ok, it’s part of the process. Wouldn’t we like to stay in the good feelings forever? Why must we also wait and feel through the hard times? For perspective of course. To wake us up to all that becomes invisible in the rush.

I’ve been riddled with ADHD lately. I am really suffering with it. As I vibrate with an almost visceral certainty that my story will be written and shared with others, the closer I get, the further I feel. What an illusion! The Universe is a great trickster, and I’m taking the joke overly seriously all the time.

I seek something to fix this pain all the time. Chocolate, food, happy hours, snuggles…. some healthier than others. My frenzied mind that constantly is telling me I’m running out of time. Always miles ahead in awareness. I can’t even hide from existential truths long enough to allow more joy. One of my greatest tasks right now.

This morning I’m thinking back to a time when I worked 40 hours, had internship and full time school. When I didn’t breathe, and I somehow managed, and now I have way more time… and yet it seems always not enough. I’m thinking this not enough bs is a filthy filthy liar. Why are we like this? Is it an innate drive meant to help us survive ? Then why is it killing us in droves? It’s killing spirits and dividing families, and it’s simply not true. We are enough, we have enough. We are usually more than we realize, and have more than we realize.

I have relationships with Clients that are valuable and I have one fully present hour a week, and even later move to every 2 or 3 weeks as they fly out of the nest more often. These are meaningful relationships and they are just one piece of the puzzle. So why do I always see mine with my children as I can never connect or do enough? It’s deeply painful. Maybe that’s also why they feel it’s not enough? I’m afraid sometimes that my kids get even less than that one present hour weekly even. Often my love is shown to them in acts of service in between things. We can’t always see a transition as it’s happening, and after are left reeling to figure out how to adjust. That’s what I am going through right now.

I stumbled across a show the other night on Netflix. It’s called Atypical. One of the best things that ever happened. First, it’s depicts so wonderfully some of the challenges children and parents with autism experience. I love that! But the part I really identify with is how as the teens grow and face growing up, the parents are also facing who they are, and what their roles are now? They are up against feeling less needed, and being pushed away. I identify so much. My last tiny one who has begged and begged for time with me is now bristly and defiant. The breaking of my heart is audible. Mostly because I realize how many times she asked for just a moment of my presence, and I didn’t know the value. I had free front row seats to Hamilton for one of the best experiences in life, and I was lost in my head worrying about providing, and my health, and figuring out how to run a business. If I had just lifted up my head out of that fog a little more. What if I screwed up? And see even now I’m doing this thing…. because weren’t there still moments of beauty in between? But my hurried mind is always trying to skip ahead, it can’t settle down enough to just be in a moment. I know I am not alone in this.

It can never just be that I am meant to be this way. It always has to be what’s wrong with me, and how can I do better. One of those questions helps, and the other hurts. I work so hard to ask my mind to just take it one moment at a time, but it wants to bite off ten. It’s painful really. We have to work with what we have though, and find outlets, and places and people who understand our brand of crazy. And we have to work harder to see enough versus not enough. It’s our only choice.

So many hard working beautiful people suffer at the hands of perception and misunderstanding, and our own innate nature as human beings. One of my greatest missions is to be a part of alleviating this. One of the best ways to do this realistically and fairly with life’s demands is simply to realize: your story as is has tremendous value!!

Hopefully in an upcoming post I’ll be talking about how wounded people, wound people, and that there is hope for this. Listening and seeing when we hurt someone, being willing to look at our own part is the key to change. It’s messy work, but on the other side it’s so worthwhile.

My life’s work has been on healing fractured attachments. I had to begin with my own, understanding my own behavior and actions, and fight to make changes. On the other side … this space where I am healing I can see where I have been, and it makes me able to help understand when others have found themselves there. A wounded healer, and an earned secure. This work is not for the faint of heart, and it’s also not impossible. Are you ready for your life to feel better ?

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ā€œIā€™d do anything for Love…but I wonā€™t do that….ā€

Remember that song by Meatloaf? I used to really like it. In fact I really love the 80’s and 90’s genre of music in general.

I’ve spent the last several days in a tremendous amount of pain and it’s taken me on quite the emotional journey inside myself. It’s amazing the more we exercise our awareness and noticing muscles, the easier it becomes to clearly connect the dots on the why’s and how’s of our behavior. For example I notice how short I become when I am trying to manage pain (in this case physical) on my own without asking for understanding and stating my needs openly. When I try to be strong, but that model seems to fail. The “suffer in silence don’t scare your children one”. I want to create a more in depth post about chronic pain versus acute, and a story about some of my experiences with both.

But first what’s on my mind tonight.

I am learning to realize you can apply some of the same concepts of romantic partnership to parenting. That in fact the old school model of parents and adults very separate from kids has its flaws. Of course on the other end of the spectrum is too enmeshed, which has its own set of issues. So what I was thinking about when I drove home is getting a bouquet of flowers and splitting them amongst my kids/partner. It was a daydream of sorts and random, but when I considered it’s meaning I found not to forget the little ways to let someone know they are special. And I know how to do this so much better in adult love when it’s only one person to please. With 4 people it becomes so overwhelming financially and thought wise that I usually give up. I show my kids they matter in all the normal parent ways, my responsibilities. But do I show them how much joy they bring to my life and not burden? I fear this because it is my nasty core fear that I keep trying to feed, and because I speak so openly about my struggles at times.

So on the way home I was brainstorming the how’s of this all… and then now I am still thinking about it. I thought what common ground do we have? How can I show them without being unfair or being accused of that anyway regardless? So I came home and laid down with one of my daughters in her room. And just decided to sit down and not rush or expect anything, to just talk. Meanwhile the other one became very frustrated that her Star Wars movie she had been watching with my person (her person too;)) was on pause and kind of blew her top. Alls fair in love and parenting. You can’t please them all, and you can’t take personally when a tiny, over-tired, irrational dictator, finally lets go of all the feelings she has been holding tightly onto. But because I am a human being I did. I came to hide in the bath. This is 1/2 good. It’s a healthy coping mechanism. I wrote through my feelings and much more peaceful now. But not before I told her very sternly that she won’t get what she is looking for by speaking to me like that. I was very angry. She really blew up and kept going and going. You can’t please them all, especially your own children. You will need to find validation and gratification for all the hard work and sacrifice you have done for your kids elsewhere. You most likely won’t get it from them anytime soon. I’m 37 and still learning lots about perspective and gratitude.

Anyway I had an adult temper tantrum, internally this time thankfully, and came to soak it out. I came to commune with all the invisible parent spirits before me who have been down this road. In the quiet of my magical sanctuary I can do this. So I started to think about ways to relate and to do things together. Things that aren’t focused around money spending and extravagant gestures. Just authentic connection. But also trying to feed their interest and encourage growth in that way. Tall order ? I think so….

And of course the mall popped into my head…. and I could nearly picture Rian beam with joy at a new outfit and shopping date. And picturing that even almost made me go out and arrange it right away. “I could be a hero just for one day.” In a music artsy mood tonight. I could. But at what cost to them?! What would I be taking away in all the giving.? If we are to consider things in one direction, always for good measure I try to run the opposite scenario.

Do you know how many people (myself included), give in to make their lives feel easier, and to feel better by the immediate gratification of a child’s smile. The problem is when it empties as quickly as it spread because their mind is already onto the next moment they get what they want. So the mall would be the easy way, but only on the surface. I don’t wish to live on the surface…. not ever. So I must dig deeper in myself for ways to be close with my kids and connect that don’t involve stuff, or getting their way. It works folks.

I’ve watched my children be better people when they constantly are forced to remember how fortunate they already are. Perspective is everything…. perception is important to look at. We are the teachers and the students and it’s harrowing work with very little observable gratification. Long hours of overtime and very low wages. But at the end of the day would you change a thing. You have only to call upon a special vivid memory to recall why anyone would want this. It will be your most meaningful work. Meaningful and gratifying are two different things… I think in the end it will be both. But both require you to see further, to see past the end of your nose, to see below the surface of the dawn lake water glistening under the first peek of sunlight, to see the gifts that lie deeply beneath what the eye can see. Your children are gifts and they have gifts, unlocking that potential lies in how much we build them up and encourage, not in one thousand trips to the mall for a desired item. Don’t lose vision and perspective, especially when it gets tough, that’s when life is asking you to step up, to grow. Rise to the occasion, and you will light the way for them.

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Hog Heaven and a pit bull named Iceman

So we (Courtney, Rian (twin A), and myself) are sitting here waiting for Tyler to have a therapy session. We are trying out the fit on a new family therapist. She has some big shoes to fill, Fran was one of a kind. We were all reading, but then I had a moment of inspiration.

Recently we had to have our furnace replaced and last night Courtney and I walked up to the home of the neighbor who did the job. We were taking him the second half of a very large payment, ouch. Anyway I often think how lucky one is to be able to be in a profession that they can benefit by cutting the costs in their own lives. So for example: a plumber’s family never has to worry about that aspect of home ownership. And then there are those real handy people (typically in my experience men) who seem to be able to fix anything in the home. Those are the ones I admire the most. I am in fact so interested in trying to be more efficient financially I would almost trade in my true sexuality for such a man. Just kidding sweetie. But seriously it seems so unfair that I can’t fix all of the hurts and issues that currently plague our home. Why can’t we take advantage of low cost, free really… in home therapy?

I mean I am sure we benefit from all the “family meetings” that my kids adore so much. They probably wish they had those normal parents that do what they are supposed to, but are careful not to venture into unknown territory. Afraid to shake up the system by having difficult conversations. Folks difficult conversations are the cornerstones of growth.

Things have been hard in our home lately. Resentments have been built between my children and currently they are holding onto anger in their hearts, and forgetting the true value in one another. And all the family meetings in the world don’t seem to be fixing it, because since I am Mom (and when I’m a therapist it’s annoying;)) I am rendered useless except when it comes to rides and money. Oh and cooking and cleaning.

I worry a little extra when this happens. This is because my Mom and my Aunt never grew up. They never evolved and I have watched their lives unfold; it appears quite unhappy from the great distance of safety I keep between us. Across that great divide I see lonely and sad women who spent their life hating one another. They never gave in. Never relented in holding the other in the absolute worst regard possible. My Mom was “the welfare bitch” who got everything handed to her, for what… having a child out of wedlock and tarnishing the family? And my Aunt was “a lonely cat lady who nobody wanted”. Every Christmas was the worst affair you can imagine. It has taken me a long time to create my own magic to holidays and leave the past behind.

I remember my grandparents having to carefully select just the right amount of gifts at the same value for each so no trouble occurred and they would still find something to fight about. My Aunt actually stayed living with my grandparents until her late 30’s at least I believe as a statement that if my Mom was going to get support she deserved it too. Would a person really stunt their own life’s growth as a means to stick it to “whomever”, their parents I guess or each other? She stayed and fought for her equal right to a place in the support of her parents.

These two used to take me off the shelf like a porcelain doll, except nobody was gentle with me. Random memory: My grandma collected porcelain dolls, they were creepy. Anyway if my Mom wanted to play Mom for a day she would entice me with some event making it sound fun, but it was always in her interest, it was not about spending time with me. If my aunt wanted to take me out, she was lonely and looking for companionship. She seemed to mean well and did try to take me to do nice things, but usually not without a few comments about my Mother along the way. And also without considering anything about what’s appropriate for a child. On one particular outing she took to see Silence of the Lambs, I was eleven. I also was highly sensitive (way before I knew what that was), and slept on my grandmas floor for months. Still to this day would probably never be able to help someone broken down on the side of the road.

This doesn’t mean I don’t have good memories of them, and this is the most confusing part. But for any nice or fun thing they did, their behavior along the way was so uncomfortable, and the way they treated each other so frustrating, the costs outweighed the benefits by far. I was a puppy begging to be loved, rambunctious and wild. I was outspoken and as soon as I found my own voice and stood up for myself, they didn’t like spending time with me much anymore. But not before my childhood was filled with uncertainty and chaos.

I lived above a bar called Hog Heaven once. The owner’s name was Paul, and he had a white pit bull named ice man. As a side note: I believe that relationship ended by her kicking him in the balls and throwing his engagement ring out into the grass (I’ve heard tell he’s still looking for it). They brought me Shirley temples and beef jerky for dinner. I thought it was great for a day or two, then I begged to be back in the safety of my grandparents arms. I was a novelty item, that nobody could quite figure out. But everyone was willing to lean on if I was willing to bare the brunt, and I usually am. I have always been strong. Sometimes I think it’s the best thing I know how to do, and some of the other important things like being soft and gentle, they don’t come as easily. Thankfully my partner now compliments me quite well in that way. And also I have learned we are not meant to be everything to everyone. We are a piece to fit together with other pieces to make the whole. Or at least with regard to taking on a gigantic task like parenting.

So here I sit in humble waiting in the therapist office as a woman we have just met replaces some of the nurturing parts for him that I couldn’t yet find in my youth, perhaps I never will. But the good news is I have found a way for that to be ok. As this woman helps my son know he no longer needs to be worried about his mother because I have travelled worlds away from whence I came. And because I heal daily alongside the other wounded and searching, and that is the best decision I ever made. My career constantly grows me and holds me accountable.

Journey on warriors, you never know what is around the next bend. There are always moments to appreciate, even when there is also much struggle. I still remember those delicious virgin drinks from “Hog Heaven” and Paul and iceman, and the way it felt to ride in my mom’s 84 Pontiac Firebird listening to loud rock music, the wind in our hair. A far cry from the grandparents church hymns. My mother was a mad woman, but to that little girl at that time she looked exciting and full of life. My childhood was eclectic and it carried lots and lots of lessons. I’m hoping to turn them into stories and to re-experience it in a new way as I do. I can write about it now because it no longer haunts me how it used to.

Anyway the hour is up, his therapy, and mine (writing) as well. Our reward is Bella Napoli Pizza and some much needed family relax time. Minus twin B who is studiously working on a project this evening and will be greatly missed.

Enjoy the little things…. every little thing…

P.s believe it or not these are not the twins! They look more like twins though šŸ˜‰

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Donā€™t turn away….PTSD hurts, and finding what heals….

I had a difficult night last night. My son is having a hard time as a highly sensitive person in an overstimulating world. As a family system when this is hard on one, because we love each other so much, it’s hard on all. And the most readily accessible emotion is anger. It’s the most seductive, the most comforting. We had expectations about the way our day would go. After all we were cutting down our first Christmas tree together as this whole family. I myself have never cut down a tree for Christmas before. This event went differently than planned in every sense of the word. I always say “you can plan a pretty picnic but you can’t predict the weather”…. that isn’t original in fact I am pretty sure a Ludacris song lyric gets the original credit, but I’ve made it an important lesson in counseling over the years šŸ˜‰ I also got a terrible stomach just at the moment we were cutting with no bathroom in sight and had been fighting a migraine all day. The stress and guilt and frustration at thinking I wouldn’t make it, to the outhouse blech, threw the migraine into full force. The anger thoughts are so tempting…. the why me’s, the I deserve’s….. the it’s not fairs of it all. I needed comfort and warmth, but instead was forced to be strong for my family. I wanted to show up. I always want to show up.

Strong seems to yield hard on self and others for me. So when my teenage son wouldn’t participate in photos I was anything but patient. He having just come off of being distressed the night before because his sisters were fighting over ice cream. The true result of the ice cream was hurt feelings. One feeling the other didn’t believe the best about her and being shamed etc. Hurt all around. He absorbed and internalized and it stayed with him that next day. And heaven forbid my dreams of a peaceful day be interrupted in such a manner. I wasn’t as patient as I would have liked.

All I can think here is that we need to help each other with this hurt. Shaming does not work. Blaming does not work. Anger does not work. Disconnecting does not work. Warm, open, gentle, understanding, kindness, effort, dialogue, patience…. these things work. If we don’t first give it to ourselves we cannot show others how to do the same. The model where we put ourselves to the side in an effort to give all to someone else doesn’t work either, because our unmet needs turn into anger and frustration that must find a way out somewhere.

If I did not feel so guilty for leaving during an important moment, due to something I couldn’t control, perhaps I would have been more patient. If I said to myself it’s ok Christina they all understand, maybe I could have been more understanding for my son. And then later would have been less likely to have an adult temper tantrum when I was afraid, and instead of showing up in warmth …. I froze in terror. I let my teenage son feel like he was responsible for ruining our day, with some words I allowed myself to say out loud.

The truth, my truth is that when it comes to observing intense suffering especially with my children (unthinkable) I freeze in terror. I have felt not nurturing because of this. I have felt like some important part is missing in me. I have had such a difficult time understanding why I can show up so well as a Counselor, but this aspect of motherhood always held places of deep fear for me. This is what PTSD does, it grips and holds and freezes.

As a Counselor I care deeply for my Clients, however the relationship has boundaries and I am an onlooker to their lives. I can stay and be present, and offer support and I mean it genuinely. In my relationship with my children it’s an entirely different ballgame. But I do sit and try and sort through these things. I believe that PTSD changes your wiring. And that you need to learn to work around your unique self. The self that matches your WHOLE story, not the parts that are more palatable. That you need to embrace and work with the parts that have been hurt, versus rejecting them. And that is the most difficult thing because who wants the injured parts? We want to rid ourselves. When you choose a puppy you choose the lively one that is energetic and happy, you don’t choose the sad one in the corner who looks as if it may be ill. But probably most of the time you give that puppy what it needs and it will likely perk right up and thrive like the rest. But if needs go unmet it will continue to suffer.

I had an interesting morning. I decided after a very draining experience last night in my family to rally and continue forward. I wrote an email and I called the school counselor, and I got up and helped my son wake up and I cared for him in the best ways I know how. I helped him get to school and drove him. He usually takes the bus. I pulled up and saw a woman sitting on a bench outside the school breaking down into tears. I looked once and thought you know what I don’t want to butt in, what if I make her more uncomfortable. What if it isn’t my place? So I went to leave…. something stopped me and I thought I can’t let that woman sit on that bench crying and not do a thing, when I know I can do something. Also the part of me that connected to my own pain thought, oh thank goodness I’m not alone, let me try and connect. I needed her as much as she needed me.

I approached gently and asked if I could sit with her. She stated she had just been fired from her job, and that her son who has behavior troubles was about to be arrested, he wouldn’t get out of her car so she was sitting on that bench. We realized that our children know one another in a significant way and I embraced her and sat with her. The school managed to help and her son went to school and she later told me her boss listened and let her keep her job. There’s still a lot that she needs, but this morning neither of us had to face the things on our plate alone.

If you see someone or something that has a need and you get that inclination to reach out…. turn toward it. Don’t turn away. You never know who you may be affecting, but you can guarantee that you will be impacted as well. It takes a village and we all need to be connected to each other.

If you have found love…. spread it as much as you can šŸ’œšŸ’œšŸ’œ

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Blogger revealed: parenting struggles and vulnerability

One of my greatest struggles with making a blog is what to include and what not to include. How personal to get when I know that clients especially can read my blog. The stance I think I will always take with this is that if I cannot show someone how to be a raw and real human being, in the number one way that we all teach (by example), then what am I really doing here anyway.

I don’t think that my style will ever be well polished articles (though I usually dream of being like “those other people”, whoever they are ;)), because those fail to show the process of becoming. My life has been a process of becoming, and I have so much that I could share with the world about this. The number one thing that possibly prevents this is the light speed at which I move onto the next adventure and onto the next. I move in my life at a dizzying pace. This alone is terrifying to most I feel, and difficult to understand. And the most important aspect (you’re not supposed to begin a sentence with and are you? I so need to brush up on my grammar etc, but again it keeps me away from my point and my truths, and I refuse to let anything do that) that has been affected in my life by this is my children. Due to the fact that I am propelled foward by an almost alien drive, that even I do not understand at times, I drag my children through life at my pace. I am sitting here this morning as I bask in some of the consequences of this and reflecting.

I have hit a point with one of my 13 year old twin girls where we are very disconnected. This has been the number one thing on my mind. It short circuits all other processes. I cannot just be out in the world experiencing adventures and writing about them if one of my most core connections is suffering. I have felt as if I am banging my head against a wall trying to untangle “the answers” to this puzzle. How much space is the right amount? It is normal for children to branch off into privacy (in fancy therapy speak, individuation). But then also how do we keep them safe in this day of age when technology makes everything beyond their maturity level available.

Trying to crack this code on “the right way to parent” is like trying to decode Mandarin. There is a truth in here that is important. There is not one right way to parent (or do anything for that matter), there is only what works for an individual, taking into consideration their unique path and wiring. This is what we most often do not do. With all of the should’s, templates, and everyone’s well meaning advice on a life well lived. I think some of the truths about this are revealed in the letter I wrote to her. I think I will share it later, when I am not trying to squeeze this in during this magical window of inspiration. Which means I am forgoing getting ready for my day full of clients and will as usual look “comfortable” today šŸ˜‰

So this morning I woke with my mind so abuzz that the only thing I knew how to do, the one thing I have always been able to do, is to write. I ended up writing her a 7 page letter in long hand. The words poured as if from my soul straight to the page, my most satisfying brand of writing. A brand that once you experience, you become almost unwilling to accept any other kind. This is so rare in my life though. The stars aligned this morning. Which basically means in my world that the dogs after their morning walk chose to nap quietly this am rather than play and make all sorts of noise. It means that the rest of the house was still asleep. I spent a good two hours this morning writing my daughter. I am sitting in here in some self-judgment about that. Thoughts like: “if anyone were to read this they would think it’s way too advanced for the understanding of a 13 year old”, and “why can’t I just be normal”. I said this to my partner the other day. “Why can’t I just be one of those parents who bake the fondant cakes and decorate for every holiday, and their entire focus is their children.” I so badly want to be “those parents”. The ones who do all the external supposed to’s that make their children feel treasured and loved. I am ever envious of those parents. The fact that I am not naturally made this way makes me constantly have my parenting in question. Not that I already didn’t…..

The space I seem to need to keep landing with this is that everyone’s path is uniquely their’s. There is good and bad in everything and we all have choices. One of the toughest is to see our mistakes as they are unfolding and be willing to face them. I look at my mistakes. I used to be so hard on myself that I couldn’t bear to see a mistake, which means that I couldn’t work on anything. I was fragile in my make-up. Since then I have cultivated some Velveteen Rabbit esque values that have helped me to learn to sit in discomfort and own my story, especially with it’s flaws and failures. Flaws and failures are an essential part of our personal map, so why do we do anything to avoid them? Woven within my writing will probably be lots on this.

I guess in this blog you will watch my process of becoming a writer who is able to clearly lay out her truths, the gems she has found in life. I am not there yet. You are going to see poor writing, and grammar mistakes. You are going to have to sift through the confusion and the disjoint for magical nuggets of truth. However I do believe they will be within here, and that you may learn something in the process of reading. I believe this because it is my greatest passion. Sharing knowledge with others. Staying connected in a land of a great disconnect. Looking at our unique types of suffering and finding what alleviates it. The whole process is so beautiful.

As always I wish I could have gotten onto the page more eloquently this rush of inspiration from this morning. As I said I think I will share the letter later, if nothing else so you can see an example of raw vulnerability in it’s process state. One of my favorite things.

Warmly,

Christina