The Lost Children

by // // No Comments

The children of the broken home – the motherless or fatherless home, the loveless home. The children born and raised without the containment of home, of family, of culture.

The uprooted children. The children of no-where, of no-land. The wandering in the desert, cradle in a basket up the river children.

The children never initiated, never trained into maturity. The grown-up children. The “adulting is hard” children. The “parenting our parents” children. The “where do we belong?” children. The “is it safe to open up and grow here?” children. The children who will do anything for love. The children with no healthy relationship to authority.

The hurting, wanting, needing children, who can twist, and take, and take. The forever hungry children. The backed into a corner children.

The children who do not know how to conduct themselves in a circle, in a culture, in a family, in love.

The children who do not know their connection, their place, their belonging with all that is.

The children digging in, reaching out to reconnect with age old chains that were broken.

The children gathering loose ends and weaving them together.

Twisting bark, warm beer and conversations in the park.

Home.

by // // No Comments

So, I had this dream in February, 2018, and just found it again, now. It goes like this:

I wandered into some kind of gathering place, lots of people were already assembled. I was looking around for people I knew and noticed that there were people sitting on the branches of trees all around the people gathered on the ground. I spotted a few familiar people in different places, and I wondered where I should go.

There was a book of different themes, there were so many, I was looking through and really having a hard time deciding. I don’t really remember most of them, but I came to a page that said “Home” and I knew that was it. That was my focus. I was really sure of it.

But for some reason, before I had a chance to find the group related to that, everyone got into a formation and started walking away, like everyone was in their place in a line. I was walking alongside, feeling like I should move with them, anyway. And there was a man there who I felt was overseeing, I felt a bit apprehensive that he might notice that I was standing out. But he took my hand and walked along with me, speaking some kind of poetry to me. And it was good, I guess I was welcome wherever.

There is still time.

by // // No Comments

I’ve had a lot of fears about being left behind, missing opportunities, not living up to my potential. I’ve worried at times that I have already failed – that I could have, should have been further along. That for some reason or another, I wasn’t living the life I had been meant to, and I couldn’t reach it or get in touch with it anymore. Like I had lost something that was supposed to be mine, and couldn’t imagine what it was, or how to get it back.

I’ve built some excellent habits around digging. Digging into these worries, these discomforts. Looking for the roots, for the pearl inside of the rigid shell. I’ve learned a lot about what had me hanging back, resisting, avoiding taking action on my feelings and dreams. I was so afraid of abandonment, and so desperate for feelings of connection that I was afraid to say or do anything that might hurt my chances of having love and acceptance.

I’ve been working a lot on these parts of my psyche, and learning a lot about tuning into myself, being aware of and establishing my boundaries, and sharing and living my truth. I still have a lot of grief around this idea of “lost time” coming up.

But I’ve had some experiences lately that have turned me toward the idea that none of that time was lost. I can imagine ways that I could lived differently if I had not had this particular collection of fears and anxieties, but that is not what happened. And I see a lot of value in the time and effort spent discovering, healing and incorporating these lost, hurt, scared parts of myself.

It can be hard not to compare ourselves to others, or not to compare where we are to where we wish we could be, or where others seem to be. But there are so many paths, so many areas in need of attention and tending in the collective psyche. We each have our own roles in this great story to work through.

And it’s not some great failing on my part to have been working through things in my own time. All of the experiences and troubles I have had are still part of the great story we are all writing together. Especially the ones that have led to healing and reintegration of parts of myself. Even the ones that have not got to that point yet.

We can have such great expectations of ourselves, of each other, of our human family. I’d like to start giving us all more credit. I’m learning a different way of moving through the world, of being in it – with balance, stability and grace. With gratitude for the ways that disparate energies and circumstances can come together to create beautiful, earth-shaking, life-changing things. New life, a new world made from each choice made, each step taken. Each observation and intention spoken aloud.

I am really proud of all of us today! For how far we have come, for all the hopes of where we’d like to go, and all the motivation and inspiration we pull from the threads around us. Thank you! Keep walking your beautiful path, just as it opens up before you. I promise that I will do the same!

Clear the Waters

by // // No Comments

“Never trust a woman with a really clean house,” my mom likes to say, and we joke about how angry someone would have to be to scrub every inch so thoroughly.

I do like to clean up my space when I am feeling frustrated, confused, overwhelmed. Clear up my surroundings to help clear up my insides – as without, so within!

And it is easy for me to throw myself into cleaning and organizing, purging and rearranging, when I am angry. It feels almost frantic, like I need to regain control of something, I need something to be in order – and as quickly as possible.

I feel I am a mess right now. I’ve been through a lot of changes, a lot of challenge lately (many stories for many other times, probably). A lot of it is very positive! A lot of things I have worried about have been coming together. I have many things to feel good about, many things to feel very thankful for, usually I am walking around with a full heart. Overflowing, even.

But one person can only handle so much. Perhaps I have burst open a bit. Perhaps it’s hard to keep growing and evolving, to keep creating and keep moving when I am adjusting to working, having so many new demands on my time and energy.

So I’ve felt strained and distracted, easily frustrated. And my kids, too, have seemed to be stressed and a lot less patient and cooperative. My house feels like it is exploding with half finished projects and half tidied messes. Energy so scattered, so distracting, so disturbing.

I’ve been struggling with my desire to reach out almost as a way to detach. I want to give myself some grace, some reprieve, some rest – but I can’t just turn away from what has become a burning pile all around me.

I’ve decided to follow my compulsion to do some deep cleaning and decluttering, and then I plan to cleanse the energy around here with some dried herbs I was gifted by a lovely friend.

I started going through the kids’ toys the other day, with a donate box and a garbage bag, expecting that I was going to ruthlessly cut a chunk out of their abundant bits and pieces that spill out all over the house.

I did do some cleaning, find a few things to go, got some of it organized and put away, but it had very little effect. I get stuck on their toys, now. I have decluttered them so very many times. There are so many playsets that they actually use and appreciate.

In the end, I stashed a bit more things away. We happen to have a crawl space that I can hide things in, in previous houses I would stack boxes up in closets. At least, not having all their things accessible at once limits the amount of mess that can happen at once time.

I have stuck away more toys three times in the last few months, now I do feel like I can see the difference. Whether it will change the amount of mess, only time will tell.

I’m reminding myself that clearing space takes time. I am following through with this urge, though, and honoring Imbolc in this way – I am spring cleaning! Snow be damned! I am clearing space so we can grow!

As a gesture of self care, I have cleaned under my fridge and my stove today. I spent a fair amount of time this afternoon putting things back in place, and wiping some areas I don’t usually get to.

I still feel on edge a bit more than I would like.

I still feel some uncertainty about what I need most from myself right now, and how I can accomplish more regular maintenance on myself than crisis management when I burn out.

But, I have taken a step! I am doing what I can, taking more responsibility for my space and working on getting my kids to take more responsibility for themselves, as well.

I will update again as things progress!

Thanks all, please feel free to share your own adventures in deep cleaning and/or stress release!

Hey, Thanks.

by // // No Comments

This life is so full. This life that I could not quite imagine before, come true. The home, all the comforts, companionship, love, the support, the insight, the inspiration, the energy to carry it all forward.

I don’t always know how to take it all in.

The cold grip of winter came, but then receded. Fall is not done, yet, there are things left to prune. There is collecting and storing left to do.

And we look upon death approaching. We see the coming freeze, we know that soon we will stand still.

I look at how I have been filled.

In the chaos and wonder of this time of our transitions, there has been so much to do. So much time to run through. So many items were touched, sorted, stored carefully, now unwrapped and finding spaces in our new home.

Life taken apart and put back together.

We’ve started school drop offs and pickups. The older two have been fighting a lot more than I would have expected. I’ve been losing my cool a lot more than I would have hoped.

How can there be so much new life, so much joyful expansion, joyful celebration and so much discord, so much discomfort, so much striking out at the same time?

I feel we are stretching, growing past what we knew before. It’s lovely, but it is not always pretty.

We’ve been sick in rounds. The third seems to be starting now, I haven’t felt like we’ve completely mended since the first.

And I find myself wondering why one child is lashing out, seemingly out of control yet starving for acceptance and play.

Wondering why another collapses so often at the slightest discomfort or challenge at times.

And I think I do get it. I start to understand.

For as much as we have shifted, there is a lot to be settled into, now. And for as much as I have wanted a break myself, I know I could be giving these kids more of my own grounding, my own awareness, my own care and time than I have been allowing.

I get embarrassed when I start to crack, when I yell, when I can’t seem to cope. I feel guilty.

But I get that, too. I get that sometimes I need to be clued into myself, too…

So we slow down. We watch the shifting winds bring each leaf to the ground. Each in their own time, none putting up much of a fight, then.

I don’t see the whole picture of how we come to be through this chapter. I think that’s okay.

It’s strange starting something new in the season of endings. But we know that there’s beginning in the endings anyway.

Now we’re setting up and cozying into our new space, just in time to watch the winter blow in.

I’ve been counting my blessings, I guess I am counting my strains among them now, too. It’s all good, it really is. Eventually.

Many thanks for all of you, I hope you have a lot of thanks to give, too.

The Value of Inner-Child Work

by // // No Comments

As I have been a mother to my children,

I’ve been mothering myself.

As they grow and change and change again,

I’m changing shape as well.

 

There have been times that I’ve resisted,

That I’ve fought against the flow.

There were times that I could not hang on,

Times that I could not let go…

 

Through all of this exploring,

And the challenges and growth,

I’ve felt I was missing something

To help with keeping me afloat.

 

As I have found my inner child

And all the fears she keeps

I’ve done my best to tend to her

Healing whatever I could reach.

 

But even making space for her,

And trying to bridge that gap

Left me feeling a little stuck,

Like I was still holding something back.

 

And I guess that the time must have been right,

Maybe I could not have done it before,

But something has clicked into place

And now I see what I’ve been yearning for.

 

It is well and good to help that child

Living deep inside of me,

But to my surprise I’ve found, instead,

It is she who is saving me!

 

For as I became an adult,

And as I had my own kids too,

I left behind something important,

That’s kept me from living my truth.

 

All the striving to comfort and soothe myself,

And to be the best parent I can,

I had forgotten how to play! Have fun!

To be wild, full of wonder, joy in hand!

 

Now I see the secret ingredient here

To the mix that I’ve struggled to brew

I need to remember to do what I love

And to love what I have to do, too.

 

All the roles that I play these days,

All the different aspects I can be,

They all jumble together in a beautiful mess

When I remember to be wild, and playful and me.

Understand

by // // No Comments

I think at some point, everyone in the world will have that feeling –

Wondering why everyone else can’t just be more like them. Why they can’t just get it, just do it, just see what we see or feel what we feel.

Because it’s so obvious to us. We see the world so clearly in our own way. At times the picture might be a little blurry, things may change, but what we make of the world is so clear to us.

And sometimes it’s easy to wonder why others don’t see it that way, too. That even among like minded folk, we can feel misunderstood, we can feel like we must have it all wrong, or that we are the only ones that have it right.

But no one else can really understand. Not really. No one can make themselves into someone else, and we can imagine – we can open our minds, open our hearts. We can empathise, we can listen, we can reason. But we can’t see the world quite the way anyone else does, we will never draw the same conclusions.

We find different problems. Even among those who see the same problems, we’ll see different causes and different solutions.

What you are doing is really great. It is so important, and I am so glad that you do all the things you do. I’m so glad that you are making those plans, I’m so glad that you are focusing where you are. I am so glad for your talents, your passion, for the direction in which you flex your will.

And I’m glad for my focus, for my plans, for my own kind of magic. I’m glad for everything that I do, too.

And that is exactly how I fit here, it’s why I am here if you prefer to think of it that way. Because I am perfectly suited to see and to do whatever it is that I see and do.

And I probably won’t be able to do the work just as you imagine it should be done.

Then, it is a good thing that the world has you, too.

The Rut

by // // No Comments

Just after my dad died, I was out for a smoke and started walking a sort of labyrinth pattern into the snow, making a path in a spiral and back out through the center again. I walked it over and over and ended up taking a shovel and digging it deep into the snow, and it became a place for my daughter to run around and play. But I would pace around it when I went out for smokes by myself all the time.

We made it outside today! After being reminded by a few people, I finally remembered to actually make use of my wrap and the baby slept while I was wearing her, when I couldn’t have otherwise put her down… Derp. So she stayed sleeping while I helped the girls get dressed and took them outside. And while we walked a circle into the snow, and started pushing the snow around to shape the beginning of walls because they wanted to make a snow fort.

She stayed sleeping while we came inside, while I made them lunch and cleaned up lots of our main living area. I got so much done!

We had a lot of company today. My mom came to visit, and some friends with their kids. The girls got so much attention and got to play, and I got to catch up a bit and have some company, and someone around to hold the baby and help her stay sleeping.

It was a little hectic but so nice, and most of the mess we made was clean (cleaned by my friends son mostly!) by the time everyone left.

But as soon as everyone had gone, and the sun began to set, it was mayhem all over again, just like last night. I guess I expected it this time, but I didn’t handle it very well.

My baby started fussing instead of just nursing and sleeping, and my toddler dumped all of our vanilla extract out on the counter.

Then she spilled yogurt drink all over herself, then after I cleaned her up she spilled more on the couch and on the floor.

And after I had cleaned that up (while the fussy baby is crying, waiting for me) my toddler wandered off without her pull up since she’d slipped it off with her yogurt splattered pants.

She snatched a toy from her big sister enough times that my oldest freaked out so much that she hit herself in the head with a little mirror somehow. And shrieked in my ear, while the baby was still fussing.

And a little while later the toddler came back to let me know that she pooped in the other room.

So again, I had to leave the fussy baby crying out to clean her up. And there were bits of poop across the floor. I yelled at her to not clean it up herself, multiple times, because I didn’t feel like I could get to it and she kept trying to go towards it with some wipes… Ugh.

So somehow after all of that we all managed to calm down. I didn’t manage to get supper started, but the poop got cleaned up, and I picked up all the clothes we’d been looking through earlier.

We had a sort of lazy supper when Drew got home and took the girls outside a bit longer afterwards, so at least we all got some air and they got a bit more exercise and space to play.

Bedtime is late again here but the girls helped us clean up toys and things this evening and they’ve been quiet and calm as they settled down.

I’m thinking about help, feeling provided for. Part of me still feels like I should be doing more now, exchanging directly, giving more back. But I am so grateful to everyone that listens to me, reassures me, everyone who has brought me things, taken me places, come over and tried to help me manage the house, and sent needful things from afar.

It feels nice to know so much is taken care of when I can’t stay on top of everything myself, or between Drew and I. It still feels strange though, lots of questions of deserving are coming up for me. I feel pretty loved anyway… I still feel anxious and get mad at times, sunset especially apparently, but I feel like I can actually enjoy our little family and the people we know and love more again. I don’t feel so stuck in my ruts.

DON’T PANIC

by // // No Comments

I had written here previously that I wondered what this newest child would teach me. Well so far, it’s been how to ask for and accept help.

We had a bit of struggles adjusting to life at home with our newest addition – colds all around, trouble figuring out sleep for everyone, keeping things clean. But it was overall going well, better than I expected.

But then right when Drew had to go back to work, after his two weeks off, I started to panic.

Initially it was a health concern I got really intensely focused on. I started to panic about that and was worried about it all day the first day home with the kids by myself.

And later that evening I was still feeling physical panic attack symptoms even after I wasn’t worrying so much anymore.

At some point I gathered that I was experiencing postpartum anxiety. I managed to reach out to some friends and family I could really trust and talked to Drew a lot, and after a couple of days I went to talk to my OB about it at my two week check up.

She went ahead and wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant for the anxiety, without me having to make much of a case for myself.

I felt loads better just after talking to her about it. So I’ve been taking these meds for about a week now. No negative side effects so far, no panic but still having some anxieties, odd depressive symptoms, bouts of frustration that I’ve come to realize are usually a reaction to anxieties and fears of not having control.

So now I’m looking at my whole life like I need to rearrange it, make it something I don’t so desperately need to have breaks from or escape from. How I can really take care of myself regularly, instead of in urgently needed stolen moments. How I can get to feel more supported again, and build more supports for my kids besides just Drew and I.

And as I look back I think I experienced this after both my other kids too, but not quite so intensely. I can see now how the pressure built up. Uncertainties and fears, trying to keep things under my control as much as possible, blossoming into frustration and anger when I just couldn’t keep things under control (as my middle wild-child has been breaking me open in her own way).

I’m looking at my whole life through this lens and realizing that a lot of my trouble probably has had anxiety behind it. Or depression. Maybe both, it’s hard to me to draw a line right now.

So, since starting the medication I have felt a lot better than I did when the panic first hit. But I still have my moments. And this afternoon was one of them, and after the struggle of it passed I decided I really wanted to write about it. It’s harder now that my head is not in that place, but I want to try as it seems important.

So, the light starts to fade here pretty early these wintery days. The living room was slowly getting dimmer as it only really gets light when the sun shines through the windows.

The kids were starting to get more antsy, whiny, uncooperative, loud etc as children can tend to do in the time of dinner prepping.

The baby has been extra fussy for a few days, presumably having a growth spurt, and needing to be held and nursed very often. So I felt like I was quite glued to her for most of the day.

So within the frame of about an hour, here are some of the things I experienced:

The toddler pooped in her pull up but wouldn’t let me change her for a long time. But started asking me to when the baby had woken up again, when I really couldn’t get to it, and was not sure when I would be able to.

I noticed what looked to be mold all around the bottom edge of the living room windows, because they’ve been getting so much condensation or something… The wood on the window bench looks to be rotting around the edges. And I thought I should really clean that off, and started but had to stop and wash my hands and pick up the baby again, because she had woken and started crying again.

I had to wipe up splattered yogurt drink that went across the room when the toddler put some marker lids in the bottle, then tried to shake them out. The same marker lids I’ve been struggling to put back on the markers all day so the markers don’t dry out, because they’ve been keeping the kids busy.

My oldest kept asking for snacks but not telling me what she wanted except for things she couldn’t have, and often when I couldn’t easily get up to grab her anything because I was trying to get the baby to stop crying or trying to get her back to sleep. When not immediately satisfied, my oldest has taken to making great loud screeching noises as of late.

I had to leave the baby crying in her bassinet for a couple minutes to sweep up some glass off the kitchen floor, after I jumped up and ran in after hearing a smash to pluck my toddler from the glassy terrain as she had just dropped a small Pyrex bowl on the hard floor and was about to step on a big piece when I came in the room.

I wondered about supper, wondering how many days one can realistically buy supper, at what time I might be able to start cooking supper, or if I would ever be able to conceive of cooking supper at a decent time again…

 

And this time of day is one that I know to be tricky. It’s not exactly surprising to me that it might be a struggle.

But for some reason it just really got to me today. I’ve been having more friends and family come by to help and to visit, and it makes me feel so much better and makes some things easier. But I dread this time of day now. I think that’s the time when the panic really set in on that first day home alone. And that’s a time I really don’t want to be alone, but everyone who might be able to help me through that is either working or starting to make dinner for their own kids.

And that really bothered me too for some reason, that in these isolated homes we can end up so separate at a time that would probably go so much more smoothly with more people around to share the tasks or guide the children through.

So I sent a big rant to my mom, and among the things she said, she mentioned my baby carrier. A friend mentioned it earlier too… So i brought it out and tied it on myself, ready to go… But the baby kept sleeping in her bassinet anyway.

I managed to start cooking supper. Lit some candles in the dark and dreary living room – only having to relight what the toddler blew out a few times.

I did get the toddlers pull up changed. And I ended up wearing the baby while we ate supper, which did get finished at a half decent time.

And I did manage to finish cleaning the window ledges – not spotless but sprayed and wiped in a way that seemed sufficient for now.

And the girls settled down eventually. Not an early bedtime tonight,  but not a huge struggle.

And here I am with a baby sleeping on my chest with a bit of time to sit and write.

So… I guess the hard times still pass. I feel like I can only look at one day at a time right now. There’s so many things I want to work on. So much routine and rhythm I still want to build. And I’m not sure how much of that is important, how much of it is just a hopeless struggle for control…

 

But, we made it through this day. Drew and I got to catch up with each other ever so slightly,  but in a needed way, I got to visit with a great friend and our kids got to play, and the girls actually played very well together most of the day, and entertained themselves very well. I didn’t have the TV on as much, so when it was on it was like a novelty again. The house is not spotless but isn’t a complete disaster, I found a bit of time to clean up some of the many toys scattered around…

I guess that’s all I have to share for now, perhaps I’ll have more structured and purposeful tales to share next time. There is just so much that wants to come out!

The Rooster

by // // No Comments

It was the rooster, then

Calling me awake

Staying up too late

Planting the seeds of our best dreams

In the clouds

And we would wonder why they fell.

I didn’t speak that tongue well,

But I learned all of the music,

I figured I could probably use it,

Worked the rhythm with my hands

And everyone was moved.

I knew that I was soothing

And I could carry all that brooding

For a time.

I could make rhymes out of our story,

Make it sound like wonder, glory,

Build us up so strong and tall.

And when you fall,

When the wind is just a bit too rough,

When the drugs have messed your balance up,

When you crash into a wall

Then you will know just how I folded,

How I sank down to my knees

And found support

Only at the stone cold bottom of an empty well

Where I fed myself on wishes

And reviewed all of my lists

Of all the signs that I had missed

And there was nothing left to do

But take apart the world I’d woven,

Criticize the words I’d carefully chosen

And warm up the parts of me I’d frozen

And I looked myself right in the eye.

And I know, now,

That the desperation that I felt,

My dedication to giving help,

Was my desire to be desired

By the parts of him

That reminded me of myself.

I know now,

That the rooster taught me in his way

Many things that shaped who I am today

And I can now look back and say

I wouldn’t change a thing.

But I know, now

Not to go wishing

On shooting stars

With broken wings.

No matter what they sing.

« Older posts