The Catch 22 of Strength and Resilience

There is something magical about powerful women. There is a primal, maternal nature that pushes through the most unfathomable circumstances, and often looking damn good doing it. Our intuition runs purposefully and intentionally like electricity through a power strip. We are antennae. When we tune in, we pick up other channels, the vibrations and energy of others, which puts us in a paradoxical place of being prepared to protect and defend, as well as hyper-vulnerable to danger, burnout and exhaustion.

Some of the best compliments of my life have been people saying that I am one of the strongest and most resilient women they know. Maybe they’ll say that they can’t imagine doing what I need to do or how they would juggle a life like mine. That’s nice, but it’s a way to set me apart. This both prevents them from getting the complicated mess of my life on them, making me an anomaly rather than the norm, which frees them from uncomfortable feelings they don’t want to face (maybe feelings of social responsibility or civic duty), and also keeps someone like me at arm’s length.

Powerful, strong, resilient, fighters don’t need anyone else right? Or any help? Or an opportunity to melt down and have a soft place to fall (as Dr.Phil would say)? Of course not! We aren’t super-human! We aren’t saints! We are just doing our best to get by like everyone else. Our cups get empty now and then. Sometimes we just need some hugs and some ice-cream and a quiet place to cry, and then we can dust off and get back up and take on the evils of the world and slay dragons again.

Being powerful is not the opposite of being vulnerable. Authentic vulnerability is a sign of the ultimate soul power. It’s an ability to connect and tap into the universal, cosmic channel that we are all programmed to find and tune into so we can be an inter-dependent, collective. We are pack animals requiring the relationship and understanding of others. That is a simple truth. Each and every soul is a piece to a greater puzzle, and the more we deny it and fight it, the harder life gets.

Energy changes in groups. We can all feel this when we walk into a room. What do you feel? Is it light or dark? Rejuvenating or depleting? What can you, only you, specifically you, do to make it better? Not later…not someday…but right now. How can you extend your light to ripple out and positively affect others? That’s the trick. That’s the lesson. We all just need to find a way to do what we are uniquely put here to do, but we cannot do it alone. We do not exist in a vacuum and our light is so much brighter as a kick ass super hero team. All of us…not just those we set apart as different…the freaks or the x-men, the avengers or the geek squad, the weirdos or the superstars…all of us have the ability and obligation to shine our light and reach out to those around us. We need everyone so we all don’t go down with this sinking ship.

Just because someone has survived and is strong doesn’t mean they don’t need you. All of us are not only capable of change and reaching the goal of being our highest vibrational selves, but we are required to do it. Once we have awareness, we are contracted to spread the light and goodness, the empathy and positive change around. Sometimes that’s just a smile, buying a stranger a coffee, or pitching in where you see a need. And sometimes the person who may be most impacted by what small gesture you offer is the one you thought was so strong and resilient that they had it all together in the first place.

Detoxing from Soul Suckers

There are some human black holes in the energy world.  Some soul suckers that hold you down, smothering you, often without you being fully aware that it is happening.  Their oppressive thoughts and inner negative dialogue of selfish, immature sabotage, effects those in their presence.  If those people have no interest in healing, health, enlightment, spirituality, evolution or really tough and painful growth to get better, then they my have to be cut loose, so they don’t hold you back from all that you could be.  That is toxic, and they will continue that elsewhere.  The common denominator is them though, not you.

I am currently experiencing the terrible pain of removing someone that I had such deep hope and love for from my heart, because his toxic energy was harming me.  He has stolen pieces of me that he didn’t deserve, and I call them all back.  I will not allow him to ruin me because he chooses to be unwell, disgustingly self indulgent in his distructiveness and make other terrible, damaging decisions.

You deserve wellness and so do I.  We deserve those that treasure and value us.  We deserve people in our lives who want to help build us up and grow and evolve in the light together.  We deserve integrity, devotion, honesty, greatness, hope, fidelity and love.  And also mutual respect.  When the respect is gone, that’s a good sign that the universe is telling you to toss the sticky, stinky, tar of their ill energy and run.

I am determined to be well….better than well. I am a positive force of nature and you can choose that too. I am committed to having the best life possible for me and my five children.  I’ve been knocked down enough so I chose to stand in my own power and rock this.  That’s the best revenge anyway.

Surreal

Last night, I had an experience that before hand, was just a shadow lurking in the back of my imagination. It was something I had played out before, kind of like when you thing of a smart and witty quip that you wished you would have thought of in the midst of some terrible argument or something. I never pictured that after all of these years, it would take place in reality, and under such mundane and inconsequential circumstances. It was like combining the rubbernecking of a terrible accident on the interstate that you can’t look away from with a morbid curiosity about some strange taboo and running into someone that you have pictured punching many times in your mind…the trilogy aligned as if three superpowers swirled in a cloud of primary colors over my head and left me without words…which is a rarity for me.

I can sit peacefully with my real reaction. I was calm, polite, friendly and neutral. I so easily could have allowed my protective and angry Mama bear to come out, lashing out at the devastating atrocities that this soul has left in the wake of her own horrendous choices, severe mental illness, and terrible addictions….we have lived with the permanent and unfortunate consequences of these choices…we have bared the scars, took the punishments, absorbed the trauma, cried out in agony to God for mercy and relief. My baby has paid, and will continue to do so….forever…and any decent mother would feel some difficult feelings related to that.

Yet there was also mercy there. Grace. I have been working hard, both professionally and personally to meet people with dignity and respect where they are in each moment, fighting off judgment…remaining neutral and rising about the more typical human responses and meeting people with love. This is so tough for me because I am fiery in nature….passionate…vocal. But I sat with peace, in this very rare and cosmic moment…universes colliding in my heart with so much emotion…and just quietly met another broken human…like me. This was another lost child of God, damaged, ill, pained…and our worlds intersected, stumbled into each other once again…fate….like they did so many years ago with one precious, gift….my child, my miraculous, complex, confusing, beautiful, ill and loved treasure.

That is likely the only brief interaction that their ever will be. She probably will never even realize who I was….just a woman who works in human services who knew people that she once knew…before the frightening voices started screaming in her head…before the meth…before the paranoia….before sickness defined her.

May God grant her some peace, as she has left a lot of disaster in her wake and many others carry her burdens around daily. I hope, that my God will be pleased, that although I have thought many times about telling her of the reality of tragedy that she caused…of making her see videos of the worse of moments…of telling her how shameful she was…that I took a breath, said that it was nice to meet her and wished her well instead…and meant it. This surreal experience is already tattooed in my memory….a burnt etching of a moment that played out so very differently than I had previously dreamt.

I like to imagine that her soul knows. Her soul recognized me. I am her offspring’s Mama. I honor the sacred relationship, although a part of me still wishes for one quick punch in the face…I did not allow myself to stoop to meet violence with more violence. I refused to participate in propitiating more harm. I did not chose to hate. God had a part in all of this, and I am open and aware of these lessons. I will chose to absorb what I must and apply it everywhere, if I am able.

Today

So my day went as follows….
5:00am- awake to my alarm in a NyQuil induced hangover
5:05am- on the treadmill, checking email, studying lines and browsing Facebook
5:50am- next alarm sounds…get off treadmill, get coffee, stretch, start to wake all 5 children
6:00am- get in the shower and brush teeth too, while Madilyn gets ready for school in the room with me (disadvantage of 1 and a half bathrooms)
6:15am- exit shower, dress quickly and dose medications for 2 kids. Madilyn’s now includes an antibiotic for her double ear infection and strep throat. Tyler takes his 3, and the morning battle of getting him ready begins.
6:30am- I eat something GF as quickly as I can and go down to remove laundry from the dryer, start a wash load (whites on hot) and head back up stairs. I make sure everyone gets breakfast and brushes their hair and teeth and ensure one cold lunch is packed.
6:45am- I hug and kiss Madilyn and Noah and send them out to the bus
6:50am- start the dishwasher and instruct Breanna on the events of the day, as she needs to pick Samuel up from school at 3:00.
7:00am- finish my make-up in the kitchen while fighting with 30 or more prompts to get Tyler to get dressed and ready for his bus to his behavioral program.
7:15am- make sure Samuel is packed for school, pack my work bag, put breakfast dishes in the sink, wipe the table.
7:20am- catch a few minutes of the Today show before I make sure Tyler’s point sheet is signed, insure him that I love him, not matter how frustrated he makes me, and have him get his jacket and shoes on…this takes far longer than it should, as he is distracted by everything he sees.
7:30am- send Tyler out to the bus, turn off lights and head out to take Samuel to school.
7:45am- arrive downtown to drop Samuel off when the parking police informs me that you can’t park where I am, even for school drop off(although I always have) even with my school parking sign and my handicapped plates…and tells me to park down the block. I walk Samuel to school, take him up to his floor and hug him and kiss him good-bye. I remind him that Breanna will pick him up.
8:00am- arrive at my day job where I will work until 4:30….it was a hard day, so I cried, a lot…luckily I work with some awesomely loving friends. I did get to have a delightful lunch with a friend, and I was grateful.
5:10pm-I arrive home, hug and kiss all of the kids, insure they have dinner and move the laundry around. I quickly change out of my work clothes so I can make it to my evening gig (acting….performance art, actually). I try to fix my make-up, as I have cried, and pack my bag to go.
5:25pm- my ride arrives. I know my dear friend will make sure the kids all get bathed and get their meds, get teeth brushed, etc.
5:45pm- we get to the location and do our make-up hair and get into costume.
6:30pm- we quickly run through the piece before the performance.
6:50pm- we head to the performance space and perform the teaser intro.
7:15pm- our performance begins….it was fun and different and I am now a sweaty mess.
7:45pm-we return to the original location, wash up and change and return to the reception.
8:00pm-9:15pm- we mingle with the crowd and have some wine. I get one of the dearest compliments of my life by someone who reads this blog…thank you deeply and greatly…that meant the world to me…I feel so honored.
9:20pm- we leave and grab a bite to eat for dinner on the way home at a cheap but tasty 24 hour Mexican place.
9:38pm- arrive at home, pick up, clean, tuck in the youngest two boys, visit a bit with the order kids and head to the shower.
10:15pm-get to my room to write this, watch recorded Dr. Phil…there is a knock at the door and Madilyn has lost her final baby tooth….she is excited that the tooth fairy will come tonight. Time to scrape up cash.
10:20-10:57pm- write this and start Dr. Phil. It’s about parents that are out of control and making their kid out of control crazy, which makes me feel like I am doing okay.
11:00pm- publish this so I can get in bed to watch tv until I know that Madilyn is asleep and assure that the tooth fairy does not fall asleep on the job.
12:00am- by then I hope to take a swig of NyQuil, as my cough is pretty awful, and get a little sleep.

A Gentler Eye

I recently saw a beautiful and touching article on Facebook that was a series of photographs of real life moms’ bodies that were untouched, exquisite and genuine. I found them stunningly gorgeous. The sags and stretch marks, flaws and scars are there, but as a forgiving and gentle eye from the outside as an observer, it was purely and simply lovely. An old friend of mine saw the piece when I reposted it and commented that it was the first time that she actually saw a body that resembled her own. I thought about how that lack of community makes us feel freakish and excluded or ashamed to shine in all of our unique and flawed glory. Our own eyes are not as gentle when we are looking upon ourselves. We decide to examine the pieces instead of seeing the whole, the way someone else would.

I struggle with this like so many do. I am getting older, I am worn, I am scarred and stretched and sagging. I am wrinkled and marked and heavier than I would like to be, but many of my marks tell my story and are signs that life came through my body and they were nurtured and fed from me. I am certainly not the young, unblemished girl I may have been, but I am learning to grow into myself and accept that this is me and be grateful for all I have. I am strong and passionate and unusual. I am more sure of who I am or at least who I am working toward being. I have a working body and I am still here. I have 5 of the best children one could ever wish for, with their flaws, diagnoses and all, and I have a deep capacity to love. I see them as whole, intact people and they have unique beauty that is easy for me to see and believe in.

I want other moms to know that you are not the only one that feels this way, you are not the only one with scars and marks left behind from your travels into Motherhood, and you are still whole, attractive and beautiful. I challenge us all to look in the mirror with gentler eyes. Maybe this is what is required to truly embrace all types of forgiveness and acceptance.

There Is No Unringing the Bell

Sometimes we make decisions that we know we really don’t mean deep in our souls. We know we shouldn’t stand by the choice but pride or fear takes over and we stand firm, unwilling to cave and try to make it right.

There are some of those choices that can’t ever be made right. As they ripple out and effect others, they create change, and that change leads to more change and the change becomes permanent. Feelings are involved and feelings are fragile. They are like a rare, priceless vase. If there is a tiny fissure it can be glued. You might still see the damage, but it has character and it is perfectly usable and the abnormality makes it distinctly your own. If we allow the crack to go unattended and continue to use it like nothing is wrong, then the small crack spreads, it becomes bigger, it splits off into new fissures…they create new weak spots. Eventually the vase collapses, never to be repaired again. There isn’t even potential for returning it to anything close to its original state. It’s now a pile of dust….garbage….waste. It’s over. The bell cannot be unrung. It’s done.

I am making an effort to make sure that my moves, choices and words are authentic and represent me…even when they aren’t warm, fuzzy feelings. I need to live peacefully with my choices in my world of chaos. When I ring a bell, you’ll know it….and I will stand behind the shatter.

Being Right

It is really hard when someone tells you that you are not good enough, or wrong. It is up to you though, to believe it or not. I am trying to teach this to my babies. I am trying to teach this to myself too. Kids, you don’t have to believe anything anyone else says, including me, if your heart and soul tell you that it isn’t so. Also, being “right” isn’t always the goal. Sometimes fighting to be right leaves you horribly lonely, bitter and miserable. I want a happy life, not a life where I win above all else. I want goodness over rightness.

As Dr. Phil would say, “Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” or, “No matter how thin you make a pancake, there are still two sides.” Experience and perspective need to be weighed into judging someone else’s view point. In my experience, for special needs kids, and especially for Autistic Spectrum people, this is tricky, if not nearly impossible. To those folks, there is only one perspective and they are “right”, but it is never that simple. I want them to gain a grasp of shades of gray.

Yes, sometimes things are black and white, but more often there are many varying shades of gray, and that is a complicated lesson to teach someone with developmental issues. I remember a time when I was teaching Noah a social skills lesson and there was a picture of a person returning a purse to an officer at a lost and found desk. Noah was supposed to determine if the person was doing the right thing or the wrong thing. Noah insisted it was the wrong thing. I was totally confused until he explained his thinking. He said that he knew that the missing purse did not belong to the officer, and therefore it was the wrong choice. I never would have understood how he was seeing the assignment if I didn’t allow for his perspective to be clarified.

I want my children to broadly define goodness, rightness and success. I want them to see that being an ethical, honest person is of as much or more value than making a decent living. I want them to value people, even when beliefs, lifestyles and convictions differ. I want them to be happy, and if they succeed at that, I truly don’t care if someone thinks they are wrong. Oh well….