Freetoend the Fear and Anxiety in Parenting

Yeah, I am calling for a moratorium, a huge death to transpire and for myself the most, because I know myself and no one else the best.  I can fix my own thoughts the most and not as much the thoughts of others.  I can influence, but I must have strategy in doing so.  I will learn, I have learned, I am learning.  I have lived in fear for too long in my parenting.  I have six kids in which I want to love and influence, but yet again, the desire is to do so with some serious strategical forethought.  And these thoughts I extend to you.  

And the truth unabashedly, but embarrassingly is that I am afraid that my kids are going to grow up and get messed up or be messed up.   I worry.  I have anxiety.  I want to control everything they do, where they go and what they say and how they live.  I know I don't give myself enough credit because I have in a lot of ways overcome some of that type of control.  I now understand that I must help protect, teach and guide my kids instead of being bent on controlling them.  I know those aspects of parenting should never stop ever or some of my kids will be messed up I think.  Well, I think I know that to be true, given what I have seen with my own eyes, not yours, but mine.  But there it is.  The truth.  I am oh, so worried and I watch too much news and those two ingredients don't mix well.

My biggest misunderstanding in life is that if my kids witness evil, what evil is, what evil people do, the evil that may be in certain elements of life, then they will become evil.  And the reality is that kids are born needing to obtain knowledge on all levels which as they age should become wisdom, or knowledge with a passionate brain attached to it.  In classical education we call this thought process the grammar phase(obtaining loads of rote information or knowledge) passing over into the logic and rhetoric phase of thinking, the stage where knowledge and critical thinking collide.  So, kids need to obtain knowledge, and guess what?  They are obtaining knowledge every day in all sorts of ways from all sorts of people.  I am simply amazed at the conversations my kids can remember that I have had with other people...good and also damning conversations alike much to my chagrin.  I am also quite amazed at their recollection of the things that other people say and do.  It's all going into the portal of their brains.  It's all knowledge...good, bad, actions or words, well, just anything that contributes to their input process.  It's all going in. 

We can control what's going in their heads and that's good on certain levels.  I don't want my five year old seeing anyone's head getting chopped off on television and I don't want my thirteen year old son to see people having sex.  We as parents should set up healthy boundaries for our kids, but that I don't think that is enough or that it will ever be enough.  Making rules, laws and regulations for kids alone will never mean much to them if the process of obtaining and receiving knowledge never translates into honest, passionate critical thinking on their own part and for themselves and I mean before they are forced into that position when they leave home. 

I'll never understand parents who rule their kids with the rod of iron expecting them never to question their authority, expecting their kids as they grow through life to never become their own person or critically think on their own.  They keep themselves at a frightening distance from their kids in the interconnected world of knowledge and critical thinking.   

In a lot of ways I was one of these kids, handed a bunch of rules and regulations that I was to never question and made to obey them and never taught how to critically think for myself.  I'll tell you, that has made me a follower in the past to almost anything people would say and do in my family's circle and the damage is still to this day ongoing and needing to be purged.  It really is flat out dangerous to extend knowledge to your kids without eventually handing out the ability and understanding to pursue passionate, honest rhetoric and logic.  We are simply setting ourselves up for a lifetime of sadness with our kids as parents when we wake up and our kids walk away from half or more or all of the knowledge we ever gave them.  And it doesn't matter how helpful, common sense or good anything we ever taught them, the likelihood is high that they will walk away from it if we do not teach them to walk through the honest process of making those thoughts their very own.  And when they honestly walk through those things we imparted to them, and they then honestly do not adopt them, then we as parents have but one thing to do.  Accept.  Accept and live how you are led to live yourself and love...love...love your kids.

Love, grace, understanding and acceptance out poured to our children during the passing from the knowledge phase to the critical thinking phase means the world in this process of raising our kids.

You want to pass on your faith in God and Jesus Christ and you want them to come to a place of honest acceptance?  Offer your thoughts, offer your desires, offer your knowledge, offer your passion, offer your heart on the matter, then sit back and let the kids ask questions, tell them what you DON'T know.  Listen and listen and listen some more and talk and talk about anything they want to and never ever deter honest emotion, thought or question from your kids...absolutely NEVER.  Let them hash it out.  Let them hash out anything they need to. 

You want your kids to never take drugs or whatever...you fill in the bazillion blanks?  Share your knowledge and your raw personal experience.  YOUR RAW OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCE being shared is absolutely vital.  My kids have perked up often and listened to me when I said...I did this, I said this, I experienced this myself when this happened.  They not only think it's great (meaning...mom, I can RELATE to you, you are SO relatable instead being unapproachable and untouchable) that I seriously messed up in life, these are the times when they really listen to me. 

So we all need to relax a bit, I need to relax.  Because the reality is...stuff happens.  Lot's of stuff.  And for me as a kid growing up with all the rules I had in my house and despite having the ability to critically think for myself because we NEVER just talked about stuff, we never could ask questions on the level a kid needs to ask questions...I still overcame a lot of things, I still am overcoming things and will continue to overcome things because I am learning and not afraid at this point to learn from anyone or anything that I can learn from. 

And it's not over for me because I now see that I am freetothink.  It's not over for you if you see that you, too, are able to pursue truth and error and the wide world over with honesty, passion and logical forethought.  And it's not over for your kids.  But it could be.  It could be over for all of us if we don't learn to use our brains for ourselves no matter how many rules we think we are keeping to make others think that we've got it all together.  It will never be enough.  Never. 

On the Street Where You Live

I have to start somewhere when writing a blog post.  I really don't follow the rules when it comes to writing.  Everything I have ever been taught about writing I'm not sure I comply with closely.  I just know that when I want to say something...I say it.  When I want to write something I write it. 

So here we go...

I am not ignorant.  I realize I live in a world where good is called bad and bad is called good...at certain times and with certain people.  *Yes, I will clarify my partially blank statement.*  Notice the word certain. I realize that grown young men can walk into a school building and in cold blood kill 20 first graders.  I realize that in places of the world children are used as sex slaves and there may be no one to intervene for them...ever.  I realize that the world we live in has some absolutely dark places that need light shined on its dwelling place.

And in my dwelling place there are lives being lived, plans being made, prayers being prayed, mistakes being made, forgiveness given and taken, honesty pushed for being spoken, truth wanting to be known, and on and on I could go. I live in a country, on a street, that houses other children.  Mine are housed here on this street, my kids, that is.  And here's the reality...

There are absolutely no guarantees in life.  I really do know that, but sometimes I forget.  

I'm here in this house with my six kids and my desire is to raise kids that are different.  Different good, be just who they are different and what I call...Jesus-different.  For now, in a lot of ways my kids are just kids...they do kid things, like most other children.  They lose tempers, fight with each other, they disrespect their parents at times and flat out do some crazy things...things you will not want to expect.  I try to keep my high hopes that I have for them in check with reality.  But hey, I am not settling for anything less than what I hope for in certain areas of their life.  Notice the word certain.  Clarity.  Clarification. 

For one...I want my kids to be kind to others.  I can't stand bullies and I don't want to be one.  Whether or not I was one in the past is debatable and whether or not I could be a person like that in the future is debatable, but, nevertheless...I absolutely can not stand bullies and bullying itself.  This is one of many areas of life I strive to guide my children through with reckless abandon. 

The point is that I am constantly teaching my children...and the lesson for this week is mercy.  Yeah, the word mercy, and actually the lesson is for me, on this street where I live.  And yes, in my neighborhood there's something that has happened that would cause me quite a stir.  While we were out of town, two of the neighborhood boys decided to let themselves in our home and partake of the internet in every unsavory way possible.  One boy is a like a son to me and the other boy comes around occasionally.  We always track our history to keep our kids safe on the internet and make sure where they have been and in doing so we noticed that on the days we where gone there was so many disturbing links clicked on, it was a list to drop your jaw to the floor to be sure.  Sad and scary.  Scary and sad.

My first reaction was obviously anger.  But after a couple of days I thought hard and long on the situation and realize much more now than I didn't at first glance.

These kids need to understand more than one thing...but the main thing I see that they need more than anything is the grace of Christ which leads to the power of Christ which leads to the fruit of Christ and what needs to come from my end of things is one word...mercy.

When Jesus died on the cross He was obviously mistreated in every possible way on His way to His own torment.  He was mocked, spit upon and insulted.  And His response to this unruly, cruel crowd?

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

And I have to argue with that prayer.  These grown people didn't know what they were doing and had no control over what they were doing and couldn't decide to do something different on that given day?

Yes, their physical bodies and their physical actions were known to themselves quite intimately and were chosen on purpose, but what Jesus is talking about when He prayed that prayer is different.  His point being made was based on their circumstances, on their Jewish culture of the time, on the lies being told about who Jesus was and what He did in that time frame.  These people where shouting..."Crucify Him!" because they believed that He was a false Christ and that the Messiah had not really come yet.  Yes, they really believed that Jesus was doing something bad.  Their hearts and minds were blind and in essence, did not understand what they were doing.  They were carrying out actions based on their circumstances and Jesus was not faulting them for that.  Wow, that is just like Him.  Only He could do such a thing on such a day in such circumstances and in you, through you, too on your days and in your circumstance.  

And knowing this instance in scripture I see the same thing with these boys.  They simply and seriously do not even begin to understand what will happen to their minds, their hearts, their souls, their bodies, their compulsions if they continue to follow the path they are on.  And so many, let's not be naive, kids are riding the internet wave of porn, and I mean the hardcore porn, violent videos and video games, and just flat out weird, creepy, demonic crud to boot.  This is what is considered normal, this among a long list of other things I am sure.

And I know.  I have lived that life before.  I am not immune to the darker parts of society.  I have seen my share of porn.  I have fed my mind with garbage and was allowed to feed my mind with garbage growing up.  Unfortunately.  And to my demise...those images have not left me.  The porn tape my neighborhood friend popped in the flashing box when I was eleven is sadly still with me.  And the way women where demeaned and used in the film is still with me.  But, hey, it was her dad's tape and it was to her, totally normal, good and fine.  And the bottle of vodka in the fridge was too.  And who knows what else.  She didn't "know" what she was doing either. 

So what keeps me from these things today or from desiring to do these things?  Lest I deceive you, it's been a battle.  There have been times I exposed myself to movies and other things that I should not have.  I haven't always been faithful to keeping my mind pure, but I will say that the mercy of Christ has overwhelmed my life.  His forgiveness and guidance has been my go to.  These boys don't see that need yet, or maybe they do and they just got caught in a trap on a given day and simply need some guidance of their own.  Guidance from their guardians. 

And who are their guardians?  One is listed as a sex predator with the State.  One tragically died when his son was five.  One is in and out of jail for whatever and has abandoned her rights to raise her son.

That says it all.  Me?  I pray for mercy, I pray for awareness in their souls, I pray for a voice in me that feels weak and is shuttering to think what I might say to these boys who are in, around and at my home almost every single day.  I want to make my life and my words count for something to these kids, but what, where do I begin?  I think I will begin with mercy.  Mercy, on the street where I live and I hope and pray that you will have mercy on the street where you live. 

     
   

indispensible people

I have been put to the test, folks.  Yes, again.  Tests are good, but I think I am failing this one pretty horribly.  Horribly pretty.  Yeah, tests are good.  They are great.  And maybe if I study a little harder I can pass this test somehow even though I have failed it a hundred times. 

How much junk is enough?  I mean, with people that is.  How much can someone put you through before you say, okay that is just enough?  No, I really want to know.  Anybody?  I don’t think I am a wimp when it comes to people.  I can take a lot.  I know it hasn’t always been that way for me.  I was quite a bit wimpy back when I was younger.  My feelings were hurt more easily, etc.  Now I really believe I try to see the good in people, try to keep long lists on others close to non-existent or others faults recalled for a short time.  

Speaking of short, it would be short sighted to play off this idea that I don’t create some of my own mess I deal with concerning all things people.  But what do you do when you feel as if you are doing nothing to little to offend or hurt or cause a reaction, etc. and are still getting slack, jazz, junk and down-right abuse from another?  

And I guess the real point in question would be how indispensable this person is in my life?  Is it a close friend, a family member, a casual acquaintance, or just a person in line at Wal-Mart?  I guess that would make a huge difference in whether or not I can or should take much more of this up and down, damned if I do and damned if I don’t stuff.  A twilight zone experience it is to be sure. 

And what do you do when this person is also pretty great, too?  When the reactions fly I know in a lot of ways it has nothing to do with me, but really and truly a concoction of all sorts of issues and emotions unrelated to me.  The good done by this person gets seriously clouded by the horrible moments.  I know that is life for all of us, but really, the same question remains for me…when is enough, enough?  I am willing to keep fighting, but this woman is getting tired.  

And in the middle of feeling this way, too, I realize that I may be “that person” for someone else…that person someone may be tired of dealing with.  So, if that is true and I am sure that is true for at least one person on the earth, then that takes me back to square one of trying to understand what to do in my circumstance besides just giving up or giving in.  Either way, the chips are certainly down, spread out and many fell on the floor of life, stuck in the mud to be forgotten.

And what makes another person in your life indispensable?

Ask a question and you’ll get a million answers.

My answer is honesty, kindness, raw and real…this is what I really want to see in a person and long for in myself.  A failure, a redeemed soul driven towards reality and finding truth in every corner of life, these are more indispensable traits.  

Expectations.  I have them and so do you…and maybe they are quite unrealistic at times.  Maybe they are not.  And maybe I am answering my own question. 

 

But what drew us to the people in our lives in the first place?

Something we fell in love with…something, many indispensable things.  And that is what we might want to be willing to see in that person again when the clouds of reaction and unkindness and loveless emotion come.   I am willing, but feel so unable.  How do I become willing and able at the same time?  Simultaneous willingness and ability when you could choose between hell and high water, the devil and the deep blue sea?  Where does that magical mix of willingness and ability even come from?  I mean, I am really at the bottom of the barrel, folks.  The absolute bottom. 

 

It is hard, very, very hard, and is it worth it?  I hope so.

*alert* this is a freetothink blog...use your brain and think for yourself at will, my thoughts are merely my own.

  

All the Pretty Little People

When I attended college, I majored in music and was in a ladies choir.  One semester we sang a song about horses in a recital we were giving...all the pretty, little horses, in fact.  The lyrics went on to list the horses colors and talked of the love of these pretty horses one stanza to the next.  Sounds dumb, but it was actually a beautiful song, almost like a lullaby.  This song provoked a thought...

What about all the ugly, sweet horses?  Or even the ugly, stubborn horses?  What about the poor horses, the hungry horses?  The old horses, the sick horses?  No, the song was all about the pretty, little horses.  

Don't laugh.  I began to spiral into my freethinking once again. 

I was watching my favorite shows last night and I looked up at the full moon shining through my dingy window and I began to recall the day's events in my mind which included running into one of my neighbors at the grocery store.  My oldest ran in to get the groceries and I sat in the car with my littlest one to wait.  My neighbor seemed more frail than he used to be, greyer and more introverted than he had been.  I rolled my window down and said hello and how are you.  It had been a really long time since we talked.  We always kept in touch, but the last year had been very quiet between us, ever since his wife passed away and a few other things had happened. 

He looked sad when we spoke in front of the store.  Back at home his car is always in the driveway, meaning he never goes anywhere unless he has to.  I told him to take a peek at the baby.  He said he didn't even know that I was having a baby.  He looked at the baby for a second literally and said nothing and then said he better go into the store and get his things.  My.  It was totally unlike him to be that disconnected with me, but I guess we were slowly becoming strangers to one another.

And the reality is he's not so pretty.  He's not really exciting and he certainly doesn't ever have a lot to say.  He doesn't have a fancy home, go to glittering, holiday parties and does not have a lot of money.  There's no charisma, nothing to attract the average person, but my neighbor's eyes spoke volumes to me in that moment.  We used to visit, we used to talk often and I allowed him to drift off into his loneliness with my silence.  He used to have a joyful tone in his voice, but things had changed and time, circumstance and age had taken a heavy effect on this man.  And busyness and my "own" life, my "own" circle had taken over and I had forgotten about my neighbor.   

And lately I have been dealing with my own post partum emotional roller coaster ride.  Having a baby doesn't depress me, it causes me a great deal of raw contemplation, examination and introspection.  It's been almost three weeks since I came home from the hospital and I have been forced to stay home and not be around and speak with other people unless they come to me or if I receive a phone call.  I have had a few brief visitors, but not enough to keep me from feeling so lonely it hurts.  Sounds silly to feel that way when you are in a house filled with your own family, but I felt desperately lonely, dying to break out of the confines of these walls and be with anyone.  Really.  I identify with being with people way more than I care to admit and maybe that is not a fault but a virtue.  It's a huge part of who I am and maybe I am supposed to be that way.

There definitely is a hub of those people I "prefer" to be with and really, they are typically so busy they can't fit me into their schedule.  Between church, work, family, friends, children, etc., well, you know the deal.  I think I attract those who already have way too many friends, things and people on their plate, etc.  I wonder why that is.  I may be one of those considered having, "too many friends", when really, I just know a lot of people.  Yeah, I know, if friends can't make time for you then they really aren't your friends some may say.  I don't necessarily believe that per se.  The reality is and the real question is for me personally...why do I need a "hub" of people I prefer being with?  All the pretty, little people?  Pretty, witty, funny, all together people who lack nothing, who think like I do when it comes to what we agree with spiritually.  Nothing against them...they have done nothing wrong at all.  But what am I doing?   

Why do I need only these...or desire the company of only these?

The reality is...the world is full of people.  Needy, hungry, lonely, hurting, ugly people.  People that if they just received a hello and a smile it would fill a desperate void in their soul like a black hole swallows up the light of all the stars in its wake. 

Another neighbor came knocking on our door the other day.  He claimed the neighbor nearest him saw two boys messing with his spotlight that shines on his broken-down, antique car(that doesn't run anymore, mind you).  They supposedly cut the cord to the light and vandalized the area.  My neighbor is an alcoholic and he was drunk when he came by to quiz us.  My husband mentioned it to our boys and they insisted they did not do anything.  They are on the road in front of his home often, and wave and speak to our neighbor.  I told him that he knew our boys and what they were like, that I didn't think they had done it and assured him that if there was proof they did indeed vandalize his property that they would be in big trouble.  He smiled and said he knew it wouldn't be our boys, but he thought he'd ask anyway.  

Sure enough, a few hours later I saw the spotlight shining as bright as ever on his old, broken-down antique car that doesn't run anymore.  If the light was broken, the cord cut, etc., it only took him a few hours to fix the damage.  

The boys were irritated that they were accused and said he was just drunk and crazy, etc. 

Greasy hair, smelly breath living in a hoarder's home, jobless, and seemingly friendless.  He has children, I have never seen them or anyone else for that matter come to visit him. 

Sad.  Very sad.  And I see a person of value buried inside the exterior frail shell of a man my neighbor has become with time, age and circumstance or just foolish choice alone, but rarely do I think any human being picks this kind of life for himself on purpose.  A loner drunk on my doorstep, babbling crazy accusations and it isn't the first time. 

Does it matter that I or anyone else sees the value of this man hidden within?  There are so many of these kinds of men, women, people in this world like this.  It is dizzying.  It is overwhelming.  And the truth of who they are could be mine.  It could be yours.  Secretly now.  Or one day part of your own journey in life publicly. 

And really, these people used to be children and before that, pretty, little babies.  Pretty, precious, little babies.  Each and every one of them.      


 

Christmas Reflections

The reality is I almost died.  Twelve days before this Christmas day I think I almost died, I truly don’t fully know.  I couldn’t speak.  It was hard to breath.  The ability to rouse just wasn’t there.  It was the scariest feeling in the world.  I could hear, but couldn’t respond and my breath was being choked out of my body as if I were drowning in my own air.  My lungs which had been so faithful to do their duty before became lazy with my blood loss in surgery and my internal bleed they were now figuring out that I had.    

Well, maybe saying that I almost died is just an exaggeration, a need for attention someone joked.  No, it’s a place of perspective I’d like to entertain.  It’s a place we should all entertain from time to time, regardless.  I felt like I was dying.  A reality, well, maybe, maybe not.  The lights in my mind were dimming and my breathing was beginning to stop and it took many people to bring me back to a place of stability.  They did a good job, because here I am tip tapping away once again.

What an opportunity.  Each word.  Each day we are allowed to partake in.  Empty chairs and empty tables sadly linger on in many homes, but thankfully not here at our house, yet.  We do not boast, but we are thankful.  But heaven is more thankful, is it not?  Isn’t it as glorious as God says it is?  Would there be another mother for my children?  I think there would be and a good one, if God chose to take me.  That or another answer.  Only God knows.  It would have been perfect.  His ways are higher than ours.  I believe, yes, I believe.

And, yes, altogether this year has been one roller coaster ride of the unexpected failure and breakdown of people and things and circumstances.  Murphy’s law of gravity in all areas concerning life had taken their heavy effect and my near death was just a cherry on the tip top of this proverbial cake, sundae, pie, uh, I don’t know.  Whatever you call it.

Call it reflection.  Call it complaining.  It sounds ugly after attempting to be thankful.  But truth be told, this year has been the absolute worst in so many ways.  No, I’m not lying or exaggerating.  If I told you the truth of this year you would commiserate with me, but really I am gearing more toward reflection and examination as we close out yet another year.  I won’t plead for your sympathy like a poor, beggarly dog.  I think I am better than that, at least in this moment.  

I could have possibly died trying to have my sixth child.  Call me stupid or completely irresponsible to have another child considering my bodily circumstances.  Well, in all honesty, she wasn’t totally planned, but I suppose God had her planned.  He’s pretty smart, well, perfect, actually, but He gave me a brain, too, right?  He does expect me to use my brain.  I was told how bad my uterus was the last time I had a child via c-section.  Maybe I should have listened?  But if I listened, then…then…then…

This beautiful breath of heaven would’ve, could not have joined our family…my life would be worth the risk of having this fresh heart and soul entrusted to my hands and maybe not, depending on who you ask.  I don’t want to die and basically desert my children, but really, is there a God or is there not a God who orders the steps of man?  The steps of His, this child, each step is purposeful and listed with its spiritual fate.  Is it that simple?  Maybe not.  

Our minds and His will may be coupled.  He allows for that or maybe even demands such logical and spiritual collide.  I always wanted to have a lot of children.  Call me crazy.  I am sad even now that there will be no more children for us.  No, we know it’s too risky.  People say you have six, you have enough, you should be happy.  Don’t say that to me.  It’s the one thing I don’t want to hear, really.

May I tell you that children are not knick knacks for us.  They are not ornaments on a glowing Christmas tree.  They are souls meant to be in existence breathed forth by God Himself, souls we invest in for the rest of our lives, lives that have meaning, and purpose and souls meant to carry out the will of God we pray and pray.  We Hope and leave our hearts in God’s ultimate hand.  To follow Christ, love God, love our neighbor and do good on the earth when so many have fallen away in sin and do not care who they harm.  And many doing the most harm pervade the religious world, trusting in themselves and how many rules they can keep rather than in an all merciful, gracious and loving God compelling them onward into the depths of the world around them sharing the good news of love and Hope.   

And in the hospital I heard of the horrible news of these dear little children at their school, tiny children, not adults, not older children…now the little children are being shot and killed execution style and may I say sin has definitely taken hold and it is nothing new.  We are shocked, but really, people have been sacrificing children, babies on alters long before this and sin made its mark then, as well, as it continues to do so now.  

And the day when children were blessings are long since past in many homes and merchandise rules our minds in the place of making real connections with the ones we love and with people we were intended to improve upon with that love connection we experienced ourselves.  The guy who killed these kids…maybe he wasn’t crazy, but another neglected child who was shoved in front of the television or gaming machine endlessly.  A latch key kid who came home to no one, a kid no one spoke much to unless to order around.  A child more than likely criticized endlessly, unchampioned by his parents ever.  I know it’s more complex than that for some children, but I can see it.  I see how things are.  I am not blind, death or dumb.

Even though in that hour in the hospital I was blind and dumb for a moment after giving birth, I would do it all over again.  If I get a hysterectomy, a tubal, if my husband gets a vasectomy, and God chose for me to be pregnant again anyway…I’d do it all over again.  I’d almost die.  Yes, it would almost be impossible, but if God chose it somehow, I would accept what I have been given and then take the time to examine why and then accept it again.  

Yes, I’d sign up all over again if it meant I had the chance to pour myself and my love for God into the very heart of that child, then, yes, I would.  And my Hope would be that whatever good, spiritual thing I put into the souls of my children, or pray into the souls of my children would be absorbed and in turn flung into the out stretch of this world.  Oh, that good would overcome evil in the power of Jesus Christ His precious Son flowing through the lives of all of my dear children and through yours.

No, I would not trade this opportunity for anything, Olivia HOPE.     

Validating Becomes Valid

How many times has a friend or someone come to us and told us in whatever tone what is going on in their own life...usually bad stuff? 

As the world turns, people hurt, stuff breaks, we break, we receive the wounds others attempt to give us, they achieve, and on it goes.  And the need for mankind to release their own pain in words is relevant, aye?  Listening ears, the release, the real human emotion that goes with this process, it is so needed. 

Well, I broke down yesterday afternoon.  Blame it on the rain, blame it on a whole host of things going wrong right now.  Blame it on whatever.  I cried and cried and cried and felt as if I could not go on another minute.  I went to bed and stayed there, but before that happened my kids, all of my kids, did something so amazing.  Yeah, they are pretty amazing.  Shut up critics in my head, yeah, shut the heck up that would try to convince me otherwise.  Yeah, they're in there yelling, those dang critics, in my head almost daily. 

So, in the midst of my horrid boo hooing, these precious ones overwhelmed me inside a cloud of validation.  How did they know how to do that?  I think kids know how to validate honest emotion, hardship and feelings absolutely more than anyone, well, until someone teaches or hurts them out of their innocence and ability to validate.  It's a gift from God methinks.

"Mom, can I help you?"  "Mom, you and dad need to go on a date.  I'll make dinner and you can go be with dad alone and talk."  "Oh, mom, don't cry.  I'll make it better."

And on and on they went.  And the validating words went on and on, mercifully and I just was in awe and I felt loved so well. 

There is time for truth and maybe I was overreacting yesterday and needed a big whack of truth, like snap out of it lady, but my kids didn't jar or hammer me with truth in my moment of weakness.  You think they would say snap out of it, mom, like so many others would say.  They know me better than anyone on earth...they know my crap and they can smell rats from ten miles away.  They know when I need to knock it off.  But they didn't do it, make me feel as if...yeah, as if. 

I hate it when others and I hate it when I have done it...glossing over someone's pain, there is a release, and we go on a diatribe of invalidation, attempting to undo the pain in seconds what took days, months, years or even decades to create.  Fixing, really unfixing, things by making someone feel as if it's not that bad or that these feelings are useless is really unhelpful.

Validation is one of the most loving gifts you can allow yourself to give to others.  Love grows cold without it.  

Writer's Blog

What is it with blogs?  Everyone I have ever started I have abandoned.  I really had a good start with this one and now I don't know.  I know whine, whine.  Life gets busy or my real intention for being completely transparent has been lost here somehow and that irritates the mess out of me.  I want to help people the best way I know how by sharing my failures, by letting them see past the shadow of a smiling woman who is dying on the inside in some ways and totally shaped by religion...bad, not-good-for-you religion, shaped by the past.  I guess that is not what I have totally ended up doing here, but I want to get back to authenticity.  And then on the other hand it's hard to be completely authentic when you don't know who your authentic self is.  You think I would have figured it out by now at the age of 35.  Maybe many people don't figure this stuff out until later in life.  Yeah, I guess.  Or we just spend our lives trying to be someone else, fill the shoes of someone we don't know or want to be or were never meant to be.  Huh.  Thoughts.  There is also that aspect of hiding your true self from others because it might somehow be appalling.  And why?  Well... 

So here I am at three-thirty in the morning, six months pregnant, the other six in the house snoozing, and I'm wondering.  I was sitting in my favorite chair that doesn't match the rest of my living and staring at the television.  It wasn't on, but I was staring, in the dark and thinking.  There are a couple of games shoved underneath the t.v. and one ironically read, The Game of Life.  Wow, is life really a game I thought.  Maybe it is, I thought.  What if it was all just a game?  Just a random set of cold dice in which we roll and take our chances or is most of life one big, long session, phasing in and out of real intentional choice.  Do we decide to wake up?  Do we decide to love?  Do we decide to roll up our sleeves and deal with the crap we've been dealt with courage?  Do we decide to forgive?  Do we make choices on all levels every day?  Yeah, mostly I think.  Some of life is oddly coincidental or in-coincidental.  Stuff happens miraculously and without your help and that's good to know.  Like the mechanic who forgot to put my motor fan back in after he changed out the water pump.  I drove around town like a champ wondering why my car kept over heating and then finally blew up in clouds of steam.  Well, the mechanic towed and fixed almost every broken thing in my car.  He even fixed my broken AC at no charge.  Talk about miraculous.  And in this Floridian heat that is doubly miraculously.  And for me lately, for something to go right is triply miraculous. 

Some things are just that.  But really and mostly I have to steer my life down the path that it should go and there is a lot I want to accomplish in this life.  I received a huge boost of confidence in my mind as I heard a guy on the radio talk about how it is never too late to accomplish your goals.  He gave examples of famous artists who painted most of their best works after the age of 100.  He talked about Colonel Sanders who began KFC chains and how it all began when he was a mere, sprightly 67 years old.  I thought, really?  Wow. 

I want to write and there hasn't been time or I didn't intentionally carve out time for this love of mine.  I'd like to write books about a myriad of topics, real topics.  I would like to find solutions to so many problems in this world and offer them up for others.  I guess it's not too late for my writer's block to hit the road, is it? 

Well, now, it's never too late to do anything.