Avoiding the process

Quicksand_warning

This morning I was preparing to take an online quiz from my Human Sexuality class which had a due date of 9/13/15. Being the conscientious student that I am, I double-checked last night to make sure I was correct with the date. After planning my weekend, I chose to wait until 9/13/15, to complete the quiz. I opened up the blackboard page today and noticed a “no assignments due” for today.  I opened the quiz  tab and there was “no content to display”. I obviously misinterpreted the deadline of the twenty point quiz, as it was now closed. Why didn’t I just take it the first day it opened up, or the second and third day? I wasn’t in the quiz-taking mood, I had plans with my grandchildren over the weekend, or I just plain avoided it until the last minute.

I am frustrated.

I am annoyed at myself.

I missed out on a possible, easy A in the class.

I am raising the question to myself, “how often does avoidance come up in your life?”

I have spent the last four years recovering from a traumatic life experience and am happy to say I am not where I was four years ago or even six months ago. Through the support of a loving community and my Higher Power, I am taking each day as it comes and doing the work I need to do to get healthy. That sounds so cliche’ and yet it works. My most recent task in recovery was given to me in May and I committed to complete it over the summer because, having a deadline motivates me to finish. My deadline has now passed. I am frustrated, annoyed and possibly missing out on the healing that will springboard me to the next step of freedom. So why am I avoiding it?

I have come to the conclusion, unlike a twenty point quiz, my task involves revisiting several years of life, where I became overwhelmed with terror, grief, and immense pain that I do not want to experience again. I just want to walk away and forget all of it. It’s in front of me like a dark pit of quicksand where I could drown and get lost. Willing myself to engage with this darkness, that could suck the life out of me is simply ridiculous. I am stuck. The deadline has passed. I feel alone.

Ernest Hemingway says, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” I love this quote as it reminds me that I am not alone. Everyone is broken and has walked in the dark. Life flows like that. All of us are faced with the harshness of life and deal with the aftermath of a sunami. This is unavoidable. The most helpful advice I can give myself or anyone is to “be present” to this moment, this day. Life is often turned upside down and is so uncertain and yet there is an organic flow that takes over and helps to bring grounding and to build trust in the process.

The process of healing is slow. There is an ebb and flow of light and darkness. Waves of grief come crashing into me like a sunami, often followed by the warmth of hope and love that renews my strength. The most difficult part is riding the wave. I don’t like water. I cannot swim. I am much more comfortable laying on the beach, under an umbrella with a picnic and good company. I am learning how to allow the waves and the pain that accompanies it without panicking because I know now that the sunshine from God is around the corner.

Avoiding it is one response to the harshness of loss and pain, but  if I am totally honest with myself, I know the deadline is today. One day at a time. Today I can put a toe into the dark, murky place. Today I can check in with myself and choose to step into the task at hand and step out as well. Today I can choose to trust and hope in my Higher Power and the resources that have carried me through yesterday. I can choose to avoid the quicksand today. I will make mistakes. I will miss deadlines. I will take one day at a time, loving myself and others and take the next step.

The Little Boy

lonely-boy

A little boy played with army men, anthills and hot wheels,

Lost his father to mental illness and mother to trauma.

A little boy was forced to become a man at a young age,

experiencing abuse and violence

within the safety of his home and mind.

In a closet he found peace, Alone.

Locking away the part of him that bore the pain,

smiling and joking his way into adulthood.

A little boy grew and let the pain disappear,

and experienced love, babies, a career and sacrifices.

The man carried himself through life, alone in the closet.

As he grew older, the boy demanded to be heard,

he was angry, sad, lonely, abused, traumatized, unseen….

he would not remain locked away.

The man soothed him and allowed no one inside this protective room.

The isolation felt familiar, but like a moth drawn to a light he was allured by its warmth,

loneliness and detachment,

Until one day he could not manage the little boy,

even though he walked toward the familiar soothing of the “light” hoping for relief,

he found instead he was swallowed up by it.

The little boy with all his suffering and pain, disappeared.

 

 

 

 

Letting Go

Open palms,

seeing dimly and taking a step into darkness.

Letting go of invisibility

And listening to the flow of Spirit,

And my voice.

Letting go of religion,

To sit at the feet of Life,

And my desires.

Letting go of fear

To allow the Present as a Teacher.

Letting go of judgement

And jumping into the depths of Love.

Open palms,

Seeing dimly and taking a step into darkness.

I Remember

Long walks with boys and dog in tow,

Headstones indicating eternity.

Celebrations,

spent with loved ones.

Christmas tree and so many gifts of Love.

Epilepsy.

Laughter, swimming pools, hiding Easter eggs,

play group and good friends.

Cancer.

A longing to know the Divine.

Altars built along the way,

remembering sacred places.

The sun 365 days a year and waves visited, sea lions, whales, and seagulls.

Lunch, kids, kindred spirits,

Babies growing up and walking down the aisle.

Love, Joy, Peace.

Life

Sailing,

Wind blowing gently

Sun shining with brilliance

reflection on the water.

My heart at rest.

Flowing in the rhythm of the waves,

uncharted water.

Seagulls and blue sky,

companions on the way.

Little girl,

play.

Little girl,

love.

Little girl,

run.

Little girl,

sing.

LIttle girl,

smell.

Little girl,

breathe.

Little girl,

hope.

Little girl,

choose life.

Pleasure

Greetings after being gone all day by a cold nose and wagging tail.

Coffee.

Lightning bugs filling up the yard.

Grandchildren.

Writing.

Girlfriends.

Seeing grown children fly high.

Trees!

Margaritas.

Silence.

Community.

Birds.

Kindness.

Hearing the Divine.

Nature.

A good book.

Superhero movies.

Creating a gift for someone.

My bed.

Laughing until I can’t breathe.

Comforting others.

Acts of service.

Mexican food.

Playing.

Being Present.

The ocean.

Family.

Grandsons

My heart skips a beat.

Eyes so bright,

truth-telling unashamedly,

blankets, big doggies, scooters, Octonauts and superheroes.

Boys are silly, crazy, cuddly and fun.

Nana breathes in the joy, life and laughter in moments of sleepovers.

“Let’s build a fort!”

“You are too big!”

Plastic tacos, books, and lots of movies.

How could I have known that being a Nana would be the greatest pleasure in life?

I play, read, snuggle,

I’m exhausted, sore and need rest.

In the middle of this I leave seeds of a legacy unforgotten,

They leave buckets of warmth and love that carry me to the next sleepover.

My life is fuller because of the stories they tell, the slides that are conquered and Saturday morning awakenings.

“Good morning Nana!”
Off we run,
To the next adventure.