Funny how thinking back on a certain time, particularly one filled with deep emotions, stirs up the same feelings inside the body and mind.
This morning I was talking about how much I enjoy watching the sunshine sparkle on the moving water in our nearby bay. This reminded me of when I was a teenager of 17 and often visited Northwest Park near my best friend’s home.
I didn’t even need to close my eyes to see the shape of the man-made pond there, the brown of the grass dried from the hot Texas sun, the ducks and geese that flocked to the small island in the middle of the water. I spent hours upon hours sitting in that park staring at the water. It was the only park where I slept outside overnight because I had nowhere else to go.
I was considered a wayward youth. In many ways I was. I’ve come to realize I wasn’t so much running away, although I definitely was escaping, as I was moving through a tremendous shift.
Thinking about being that young girl, I began feeling again all those sensations of being completely unsure what was going to happen, having no family for comfort, no security, lost and afraid. Determined and certain that those sparkles on the water were calling out to me, reminding me that magic is possible.
Tears began to pour from my eyes. How I wish I could hug that confused young girl. I’m so proud of her for looking for the beauty and giving gratitude. It’s saved my life many times over.
© Call Me Snow White, 4/30/18
I just finished reading The Buddha & The Borderline, a memoir by Kiera Van Gelder. I can’t recall ever relating so completely with an author.
Dialectical Behavior Therapy
Buddhism
Already practicing mindfulness and meditation, though admittedly more often is always helpful.
How could what I’ve been experiencing my whole life be told by someone else? Different specifics, same circumstances. Over and over. Deeply painful.
There’s a Buddhist temple here in town. I’ve been wanting to visit since we moved here over 5 years ago. There’s no reason I haven’t yet, except for just not doing it.
When I was a teenager I was certain my mother had bipolar disease. I’m wondering if she’s a borderline. I wonder if she has effects of fetal alcohol syndrome. I wonder what pain she’s suffered because of her mental illness. I know I’ll wonder this forever. She’s too afraid to talk about it, too defensive, certain of harsh judgement, consumed with shame.
So many times I needed her to have comforted me, provided me with guidance through loving kindness rather than fear of terrible consequences.
Try as I might, and oh my god do I try, I too revert to those negative parenting styles when I’m stressed and out of patience. I’m working so hard on trying to get better.
The challenge of being who you want, who you truly are, can be insurmountable without something or someone mirroring back the possibility in you.
I’ve lived in fear for so long. I decided to say Fuck Fear when I turned forty. And I ended up moving halfway across the country. This is where I’m meant to be.
Anything is possible. The unexpected can be incredible. Just gotta take those deep breaths and keep looking for the light.
just don't expect a fairly tale.
