Posts Tagged ‘reality’

 

Flashcard Meditation … Part 2

Monday, September 26th, 2011

I’m still listening to Gloria Gaynor … and smiling … and tapping my feet … and getting ready to kick off my shoes and dance on the bed. But first I need to finish this.

The diva is the new guru. And this particular one seems to have totally distracted me from my task … the one given to me by my healer who has insisted I follow on with all the contrasts I have been quoting. She looked at my ‘homework’ of a couple of months ago – the flashcards of negatives – and said, “OK, now you need to come up with a matching pair for each of these; something positive that counters each of the negatives.” I sighed and agreed, while crossing my fingers behind my back.

Thing is the concept, for me, is flawed. It would be like planting weeds where the flowers used to grow. Yes, for me and the purpose of this exercise, the weeds are the positives – they are the ones that grow unabated. The idea with the positive flashcards was, for her, so I could plant more flowers amongst the weeds, but she had forgotten that my balance comes in reverse and staring at the flowers too long caused the problems in the first place. The flowers provide the hope of beauty while the weeds provide the reality of imperfection … and excellent compost. Sometimes the best place for the flowers is in a vase.

Gardening analogies and divas … a contrast too far? Perhaps. The point is I’ve licked my wounds. It’s enough now. I’ve explored. I’ve delved. I’ve dug my hands deep into my grey matter. I’ve planted. I’ve pruned. I’ve watered the garden with my tears. I have become the river that flows through the garden … sometimes a trickle, sometimes a torrent but always fluid … watering both the flowers and the weeds, neglectful of neither, valuing each in its ability to provide balance and perspective – compost and beauty. I am moving through this.

The garden may never be done … but what’s the point of a big bed if you can’t jump on it. When I see my healer tomorrow, I will be sure to tell her that Gloria ate my homework.

Untethered

Sunday, August 14th, 2011

“I wanted to go to him, but I felt like I was tied to the chair. Some part of me was holding me back, knew I’d reached my limit. And just like that, I united myself from Mr. Big. I was free, but there was nothing exquisite about it.”
- Carrie (Sex & the City)

No, nothing remotely exquisite about it! It still feels raw, like an entire layer of skin has been peeled off my body. But, just like recovery from that sweet pain of addiction, I have been through the cold turkey, felt like dying … and now my head is clear. The cravings have become easier and my resolve gets stronger each day. I went from one hard drug to the next and ended up living my life in limbo … angsty, unsettled, unfocused, not knowing where the next fix would take me. Entirely at its mercy. And totally blindsided.

Carrie eventually got her Mr. Big when she was forty … after waiting ten years. Now that kind of drug abuse could kill anyone, and it’s just like Hollywood to turn it into a marriage instead of rehab.

I have two camps of friends: the one that supports my romance – you’re destined to be together so of course he’ll come back for you – and the one that supports my reality – if he lied to his wife, he was lying to you too. And there comes a time when romance always gives way to reality.

I am breaking my addiction to Romance. I am totally aware that Once an Addict, Always an Addict. But I am equally aware that a Habit is not a Need. What’s Needed is a firm grip on Reality.

But that won’t stop me from continuing to walk through life with my palms facing the sky.

Who’s the best?

Saturday, April 10th, 2010

They say mum is the best. They say no matter what happens in your relationship, children must be with their mum. They will be fine as long as they are with the mum. I can’t help but wonder, is there ever a time when mum isn’t the best there is? Does mum just get too much credit sometimes because she is the female parent and grew the child from scratch? What if mum was the type to don a wig and tote a plastic gun and hold up convenience stores … would she still be considered the only person who can make her child’s life complete and safe?
Some children get lucky, I suppose. Some children get the type of mum who makes their world safe. Others get the totally fucked up variety that just adds to their baggage and ruins a previously perfectly good package. They come out so pure and full of light and joy. We don’t make them into who they are – that’s born with them – but we meld their perspective. We define their attitudes to life. So is it better to tear apart their reality and say it’s fine because they have their mum with them. Or do we play martyr mum; one who suffers for the sake of their happiness. It seems to me the latter would be the equivalent of taking their true mum away from them. But then I’m no expert.