My Little One

My youngest daughter, who is moving 8 hours away soon, cried SO MUCH in her first 6 months. I don’t know why. I guess she wasn’t happy to come to this dimension. We loved her and held her and I breastfed her. I was with her pretty much always. She was my 3rd child, and I loved being a mom. But this baby was inconsolable.

Perhaps she was aware on some level that her father had not wanted the responsibility of a 3rd child. Of course he eventually fell in love with her. She was pure delight, a loving being, fun and funny. She actually carries his creative nature. Like him, she is also a lover of children and dogs.

I tried to return to work cleaning houses with my crew when she was a 2 or 3 months old. After 2 weeks of part time day care, my friend said to me when I came to pick my baby up up that she wasn’t going to continue caring for her. My daughter was too unhappy and needed her mother. She just cried all day long. I had never heard that this could happen, but I am grateful to this woman for telling me that she thought I should find a way to stay home with her. I did find a way to put off returning to work.

When she was 6 months old, I REALLY needed to get out and go to the YMCA for some exercise. I went for an hour – and came home to a screaming child, her father holding her.

I got exercise videos.

She also strongly preferred to be home. When we went to a friend’s house, the lake, a hike, a playground, she cried after about 30 minutes. That was enough adventure for her.

By the time she was one, we had tried daycare again and it went well.

But travel wasn’t her favorite thing. Ever. When she was 7, we took a family cross country trip for a month; she was homesick for her dog after a couple weeks. When she went on a trip to Mexico with her senior class, she spent the week sick.

She has always had a flair for the dramatic, so it’s hard to tell what’s really at play, but she missed the big hike to the butterfly migration sanctuary in Mexico.

When she went to Italy with her traveling dad, she wanted to come home.

She decided to go to NYC for her first semester of college. Hated it. She got her degree at a combination of a local college and online.

For the past couple years, she has been traveling a lot for her job – from Knoxville to Texas to LA, etc. It has grown to about 50% travel. She doesn’t love it, but has come to terms with it.

Now she is required to be at a “hub” – a city where there is a headquarters of the company she works for. She managed to put it off for a while, but she is moving in 2 weeks. I believe this limits her need to travel, which is a positive. And she will be sharing a home with her new husband, her brother, and her longtime childhood friend. She loves and trusts all of these men.

I feel a bit of trepidation on her behalf. She has talked of having some biological children. (Her 18 year old son was her first husband’s biological child who she adopted.) These 3 men she loves and will be living with enjoy boating, golfing, going out to the club. I hope it works out for her, between moving so far away and wanting to have kids.

She will miss her son, and he her. but he has a car, and an open invitation.

Oh – they also have 5 dogs between them, and she often finds herself the primary caretaker. And nobody likes cooking from what I can see. She seems to do it for the most part.

They are all devoted to her as well as she to them. They all have good hearts.

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Resentment

I just came across a post on Resentment. (content below)

This word brings back a memory of resenting my oldest daughter. Ugh. Not a good memory.

She was my sister’s biological child. I loved her and do love her. She is one of the strongest, most loving and most present people in my life. I could say so much about her. My stance toward her is gratitude.

43 years ago, my sister vanished and her boyfriend delivered their child to my mother. She was 3 months old. My mom, who was physically challenged, cared for her for 10 months while I organized my life so I could become her guardian and eventually adopt her. I spent alternate weekends at my mom’s and they visited me the other weekends. During the week I studied computer programming so I could support a child.

My boyfriend and I had not gotten around to wanting to build a family. (Would we have?) We were 26 and 27. I had been working at my dream job – managing a food cooperative, which didn’t pay a lot. My boyfriend was a musician, which paid less.

I left the job and my dad paid for me to learn programming.

For my dad, it was not an option for his only grandchild to be raised by anyone other than a family member. For this I am eternally grateful, but I didn’t understand his insistence at the time. At a family meeting, he said he would raise her, if nobody else would. This didn’t seem ideal to me. He was fun when I was younger, but not a caretaker …and short on patience. I was the oldest (of 5), and everyone looked to me. I felt trapped. I went with the flow and agreed to save the day.

Fast forward 4 years from the time of this decision and the 3 of us had moved to renting a larger living space. I was working in a nearby city. We had married and had adopted our delightful daughter who had turned us into parents. My husband was advancing in his musical career and was away often – learning the ropes in NYC, and sometimes overseas. Although he was a good daddy, our daughter was my family’s child and I had made the decision to raise her – whether or not our relationship survived. I was glad it had, and I carried the responsibility for her well-being.

I was on duty – getting my daughter and myself up, fed, dressed, and to daycare and myself off to work, cooking, shopping, laundromat duty, playing, mothering. I liked it all – even the programming work, but I was tapped out, exhausted – and I remember returning home with resentment at this time. The corporate world was not the best for my spirit – in an office with a computer all day. There was no rejuvenation for me. I was like the Eveready Bunny – go go go.

And I felt resentful. I remember that feeling of arriving home after a long day and picking my daughter up from daycare. She had needs which included attention, eating, bathing, and settling down so sleep …and I was operating from exhaustion on a daily basis.

I remember feeling resentful …towards her. I wonder now how it impacted her, and what she carries as a result of that time when I felt resentfulness toward her.

I have moved way past it, had 2 more children, came to love parenting above all other work – I was eventually freed from working away from home; I was laid off, built a business, and eventually found a way to work at home AND homeschool my children. I am so grateful for that – and for my time as a mom, and later a grandmother too.

My oldest daughter is now a scientist and the mother of two strong and loving young men.

I realize as I consider all this, that my resentment was transferred to my first husband. That marriage lasted a long time – about 25 years. But it was tainted by my resentment. My ex-husband and I are now on good terms after many years of distance. We meet up at holidays and graduations, etc. and are glad to see each other. He is a good man. My favorite thing about him is that he loves our children as much as I do.

I will have to mention to him that I have released all resentment.

I hope he can release any harm it may have caused him.

I want to check in with my daughter as well. We spoke last night, and I decided not to bring it up. Abandonment/adoption takes a big toll on one’s inner well being, and she was feeling hurt by her dad and disappointed by one of her siblings.

I’m not sure whether sharing my past resentment would land well now – or ever.

I generally find it helpful to speak the truth, but sometimes her heart is so tender. I will have to feel it out as time unfolds.

I want her to know that she was, and is, a blessing to me. For now, I sense that’s all that needs to be said.

POST FROM Daily OM Inspiration (dailyom.com)

When anger has no outlet, it can morph into resentment and has the potential to cause us great turmoil.

Anger, when channeled into the pursuit of change, can be a useful tool in our emotional palette. Anger is experienced by most people — some more than others. It is when anger has no outlet and morphs into resentment that it carries with it the potential to cause us great turmoil. Allowing us to assign blame for the pain we are feeling often eases it, but it creates resentment, which tends to smolder relentlessly below the surface of our awareness, eroding our peace of mind. The target of our resentment grows ever more wicked in our minds, and we rue the day we first encountered them. But resentment is merely another hue on the emotional palette, and therefore, it is within the realm of our conscious control. We can choose to let go of our resentment and move on with our lives, no matter how painful the event that incited it.

Hanging onto resentment in our hearts does not serve us in any way. Successfully divesting ourselves of resentful feelings can be difficult, however, because doing so forces us to mentally and emotionally confront the original source of anger. When we cease assigning blame, we realize that our need to hold someone or something responsible for our feelings has harmed us. We thought we were coping with our hurt, when in fact, we were holding onto that hurt with a vice grip. To release resentment, we must shift our attention from those we resent back toward ourselves by thinking of our own needs. Performing a short ceremony can help you quell resentful feelings by giving tangible form to your emotions. You may want to write down your feelings and then burn the paper and close your ceremony by wishing them well. When you can find compassion in your heart, you know you are on your way to healing.

Free of resentment, we have much more energy and attention to devote to our personal development. We can fill the spaces it left behind with unconditional acceptance and joy. And, as a result of our subsequent freedom from resentment, blessings can once again enter our lives as the walls we built to contain our anger have been demolished.

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My Daughter is Moving Away

Finally, I am writing these words.

She is 34 years old, has just recently married her beloved husband, and they are excited about moving to the DC area, to live with her brother and a very dear friend they both consider a brother. (I’ll be missing this young man as well. I was his guardian for a couple years when he was in high school and we have gotten closer in the past year.)

This move has been planned for more than a year, and now it’s happening in a few weeks.

My youngest child has lived within an hour of me for more than 15 years, since she left home.

I have taken her presence for granted.

Her brother left the area right after high school, barely showing up for parts of summers when he was in college a couple hours away. I feel fortunate that he is not farther away. He visits often – mostly because he is so close to his sister.

We are also close, but mothers are different, partly because I worry about him and perhaps I’ve been a little clingy toward him. Also because I married a man who is not his father.

He only needs to keep in touch by phone or text and the occasional journey north. I haven’t been to visit his home for a couple years, but that is about to change. They do plan to be up here for Thanksgiving, and I plan to head south in the Spring for a visit.

This is a big change for my heart. My daughter and I visit once or twice a month and often just for an hour or so – for tea or a meal. She is an important part of my landscape.

My older daughter, 43, has been calling me weekly for the past couple of years. We have a long talk – an hour or two – about everything under the sun …our gardens, her 2 sons, our challenges, our excitements, our feelings, our beliefs, our concerns, our heartbreaks. I also visit her and her partner and my grandsons – 3 hours away – 3 times/year.

She was a challenging teen, left home early, would not come to the Catskills when we moved there, then had her sons at a young age and moved to be near us. I had the blessings of her and her sons 20 minutes away for several years and then she was drawn back to her home town, where she still lives.

We have been at odds more than once, but I had an accident a few years ago that scared her and brought her closer to me.

My youngest child is a mother too, and she is one of the most loving people I have ever known. She is more private. She is also steadfast. She adopted her first husband’s son and is present for him in every way possible. He has in the past year or so recognized his good fortune; their closeness is lovely to see.

This daughter also rescues dogs and she is present for her close friends, her parents, and her brother and sister in a deep and profound way – especially her brother.

I don’t pretend to understand the closeness between my two youngest children. They were born 2 years apart and were almost inseparable in their childhood. I remember his big smile at her birth. (The beauty of homebirth. He saw her arrive! With a loved one as his support person just in case.)

She had her girlfriends and he had his close buddy and soccer, but I remember them roller skating down the street holding hands when they were 8 + 10. They inhabited a circle of love. Aside from a couple of years in adolescence, they have been the closest of allies.

[Not that they are always in harmony. They speak the most difficult truths to each other with profound ease. Each is extremely strong within themselves. It’s truly amazing to witness them. I had the pleasure of being present as she put him in his place last week on his visit north; he smiled and laughed – loving it.]

One of my favorite memories is her, at the age of 3, advising her 5 year old brother who was arguing with me …”Just let her talk, then do what you want.” She had my number back then – and after hearing that, I had hers. Luckily, she was my third and I was a seasoned mother – or we would have clashed a great deal.

[My youngest daughter applied lipstick well at this age of 3. I would NOT have allowed that with her sister. She was, and is, one of a kind. Olivia Newton John in Grease was her role model for some time in childhood. She was a girly girl, but she also played in mud puddles and climbed trees.]

Anyway – its really no surprise that she is moving to share this house with her brother. He has had a couple of tough years recently, especially the loss of his marriage. In this respect I suppose I am glad. I do worry about him.

I find myself crying often in the past week.

And now I am crying again. I don’t tell her this. She would feel guilty.

In my opinion crying is good – it’s a release.

My daughter is packed – I brought boxes last month …and her oven has been cleaned. (She is generally immaculate, unlike her mother.) Her house is rented to a friend of hers, and she has whipped the yard into shape over the past months. (It was already in good form – a few new plants have taken root, and some additional weeding this week.)

She is such a treasure in my life, in all our lives.

She is thinking about having children far away, and this I cannot fathom. Because children are my people. I loved being a mom of all 3 when they were young, I drove a school bus for 7 years, I loved being a grandma, and now I’m going to have to travel way more than I want to – if grandchildren show up.

She didn’t sell her house, so maybe they will return.

Her brother left his job this week – corporate downsizing, and he chose not to take another position offered.

I have this tiny hope that she won’t really go, but I know she will. That would be that last choice she would be likely to make – to abandon their plans in the face of his challenge

Maybe that they will ALL tire of the big city life and come back at some point in the not-too-distant future.

Hope springs eternal.

I have no idea what the future will hold.

My heart is full of love and gratitude for all my children.

I have no desire to hold them back.

I thank God for all 3 of them on a regular basis. I do not have a need to play favorites.

I am triply blessed.

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A New Healing Process

I recently chose to engage with a healing process that consists mainly of a series of meditations. The meditations are from the angelic realm and I have found them to be deeply impactful and helpful, way beyond anything I have encountered in the past.

Angels are also present in my life at this time in a way I never knew possible; they hold one in love during the healing process. This is part of the package.

I have never before engaged with the angelic realm, but I’ve known others who have,

The healing process is called Soul Convergence. (There’s a link at the bottom of this page if you want to learn more.)

I have been listening to the channeled messages of Anne Tucker (messages from the angelic realm) for several months. In the past several weeks, the messages have the added influence of the Mother of Creation. I have found these messages to be especially healing and in alignment with my soul’s purpose.

What is my soul’s purpose? I was born for this time of great Earth change that I perceive to be coming soon. I am here to assist others in their healing, and also to help in re-establishing life …as we will be living it in the future.

What does that mean? We shall see. It is my impression that we will be living more present, loving, joyful and rich lives.

And no, I don’t know exactly what “soon” means. I’ve found other realms and dimensions to be vague in the time-accuracy of their predictions. I feel strongly that the next few years will bring significant change.

I have been working with the Soul Convergence process for the past 3 weeks. The depth of the experience is stunning. The guided meditations call forth an understanding of and navigation of secrets I have kept from myself that include fear, shame, anger, protection, suppression, personal wounds, blessings, and a deep connection to Spirit/God.

The process is gentle and persistent. It engages past lives as well as our present incarnation. Deep healing as well as profound realization and illumination have resulted at each juncture.

Loving, honoring, understanding and empowering ourselves is the goal. We are to step into the highest version of ourselves.

I’m hoping to find a way to share these meditations with others.

I believe it’s time for us to move into the highest version of ourselves that we are able to inhabit. As we travel from our heads to our hearts, we transform old patterns …and our world.

Gratitude to Anne Tucker and to the angels.

Let us open ourselves to all the blessings that are coming our way.

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My Daughter got Married on Thursday

My youngest daughter and her sweetheart got married Thursday at a justice of the peace as she wanted, with just her son and his girlfriend present. After that, they had a simple photo taken and went golfing with her son, his girlfriend and her brother. (I believe she and the girlfriend drove the cart and ate french fries.).

They returned home to casual dinner party with close friends. The party was to celebrate my new son-in-law’s birthday, which was also yesterday. I had the pleasure of attending, and brought champagne for a toast to their marriage which was from both me and her dad.

They are moving to DC to a house with my son and another close friend next month. I’ve made peace with it and I trust it’s for the best. 

They plan to have a formal wedding gathering back up north next year, as the groom wants.

My daughter and her new husband are the best of friends, have lived together for several years, and they know how to sort things out and let each other be. 

Everyone loves this gentle smiling man – from her son to her brother to her older sister and her nephews, her dad and …and especially the bride.

This was not her first marriage. She was very young before and it was a rough road to recover from.

My soul is delighted at this sweet alliance.

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Pilgrimage to the Ocean

Last week I felt compelled to go visit the ocean, as if there was a call from Mother Ocean to my soul.

It had been too long since I was there. I had been to the Ocean last May in North Carolina, and walked along it in Massachusetts last September, but I now felt a call to a specific place where family and friends had gathered for years. In this place it feels as if the ocean knows me.

Nobody else felt the call, or had time to join me, so I took off by myself, driving most of the night with a couple of sleep stops. It’s about a 6 hour drive.

I arrived in the morning at low tide and I walked out on the beach.

I sat down a few feet from the water and started to cry – just a brief release. I was deeply grateful to find myself in this place – to smell it’s fragrance, to hear and see the waves, to walk on the sand and kick off my shoes.

I realized that this might be my last visit here, and I’m ok with than. I’m approaching 70, and the family no longer gathers here. These types of plans are generally in the hands of the next generation, and gatherings tend to be at someone’s home; nobody wants to camp out as we did near this slice of beach.

I had been thinking, as I planned and drove East, about the fact that the 4 main lineages of my ancestors all crossed this water to arrive at this coast – both to Canada, and to this shore.

So I thanked the Ocean for bringing us here safely, where my parents and their parents and their parents met.

Then I thanked this living body of water for her presence and connection with my family.

Then I sang a song to the spirits of the ocean that I always sing, whenever and wherever we meet. My son and daughter used to sing harmony when they were very young, and that was lovely.

After a while I decided to anoint myself and walked a couple steps into the gentle waves, reaching over from my waist to touch the water. I somehow lost my balance and fell back on my butt just as a wave was crashing in! It felt playful!

This was the first time I felt as if the Ocean had a consciousness, and this feeling sustained as my time there passed. I walked a ways down the beach, in and out of the water, then returned to my spot and immersed myself fully. (I had brought a bathing suit, but I was already wet.)

After a couple of dips, I sat down in the shallow water where the waved came higher and higher for about 20 minutes. Every wave was a delight and an embrace, as well as a playful connection. The waved moved up and finally one splashed my face and I decided it was time to go. I picked up my things, then took a moment and a last deep breath.

I changed into dry clothes and headed home – deeply grateful.

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Gender of the Divine?

I grew up with images of the white father God with a long white beard in his throne in the clouds .

I learned that he punished nonbelievers with eternal fire, for their lack of belief that his son, Jesus, died for our sins.

Even if non-Christians had never learned of Jesus, they would spend eternity in pain and suffering.

None of this made ANY sense to me.

And so God and I parted ways for many years – from my early teens until my late 20s. Or so I thought. Actually, that which I now know by many names still resided within me. I now know that my inherent discomfort with a harsh and judgmental force was in alignment with Source/Spirit.

For a long long time I did not use the word God; it made me extremely uncomfortable, even on the written page.

I learned about the Goddess, the Great Mother, Gaia, and individual goddesses that brought forth understanding of the feminine divine. My favorites were Kuan Yin, goddess of love and compassion, and Kali, goddess of transformation.

For many years, I aligned with and called upon the feminine divine.

I also became familiar with Creator and Wakan Tanka.

At some point I became comfortable with the concept that the divine has no specific form or sex, and this is where I live today.

I am comfortable with any word that intentionally names “The Powers that Be” in a sacred manner which honors the positive nature of Source, Spirit, Creator, God and so on.

I also know now that we are all children of God. Not just Jesus, although he was/is certainly a revered being.

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