BUT... writing always alters my experience and I am guessing that going to sleep on this kind of pissy attitude isn't in my best interest, so let's see what comes up shall we?
Today was a strange day. Last night I had trouble going to sleep (this is not something that usually plagues me, I can fall asleep anywhere... anytime). When I closed my eyes I was transported to some pretty scary places. And when I say transported, I don't mean that my mind started going crazy and making up stories... I mean I was (as) literally (as I can be) in other moments in time, witnessing terrible things happening (that actually happened) to people I love.
I woke up anxious this morning and when I was going over the list of things that could be the cause with the AngryWombat during our morning phone call I got the following:
- Devon is going out of town for 5 days and we won't have any contact until she returns
- Spiderman is having a rough time at Kindergarten and I feel very helpless about the whole thing
- I have a massage/healing appointment with a shaman today
and when I got to the last one all the hair on my body (even the teeny tiny ones under the surface of my freshly-shaved legs) stood on end. WTF was that about? Of all the things to be freaked out about I am freaked out about getting a massage?
Exploring it more that morning with Devon I discovered that I was afraid of what it would bring up. The woman I see is a shamanic healer, whose massage/bodywork is a form of releasing old "stuff" that's stored in the body as a means of healing and uncovering the purity of the spirit that is at all of our core(s). It's been at least 10 years since I'd seen her last... and I was afraid of dredging up a bunch of stuff and then having to deal with it over the long weekend home with Spiderman (who hasn't earned the privileges of mother-sanity-saving technology like TV and iPad, so help me God-ish like forces). Of course, working with Emma isn't a "dredging up and leaving raw" experience, it's a healing experience... and it was!
It was also a provocative experience and I was confronted with so much truth about myself and what I'm really capable of... once again (it's been coming up a lot and I probably haven't said much about it here because I am still ignoring it) the topic of myself as a healer emerged. Only this time when I shared with her some of the things I had been experiencing lately she told me I was living a "shaman's" story. Shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit. Really?
|parenting (right now) feels like (i'd imagine) living here without a ladder|
So, maybe I'm a shaman... at least, a healer of some sort. But I can't get my fucking kid to understand (perhaps agree is a better word) that he needs to stay with his class/group and listen to his teacher/care provider. They call me every day to tell me how he expressed his discomfort about this new situation... and every day we talk it out... and every day something else happens.
Still focusing on gratitude. Crying when it gets to be too much. Asking for help (and even sometimes getting it). Someday soon this will feel easy too (please soon, come sooner! like now? I'm tired.)
What's the spiritual superpower that equates to having a cooperative child? I'd like to trade mine in for that one please (but maybe only temporarily... I'd like to come back and explore that other stuff when I get a chance).
Hmm... still pissy, but feeling pretty clever thanks to those last couple lines. That'll do. Goodnight folks.