The past day has had its challenges. The details are all story. The realities are, our family has lost a friend and on the heels of that I witnessed something that terrified me, confused me, and sent me roiling down in to my issues. Last night, my all too human self, spewed my inner turmoil on my husband, in front of our kids. When I was done, I found enough calm in myself to circle back apologize to my husband, inform our children that my behavior was incorrect and that I spoke to their dad in frustration in the midst of my own turmoil and that I was human and had made a mistake.
This morning, I was still sitting with a range of emotions some of them escalated. I knew on an academic level that the moral outrage I was feeling and the judgements I was making were partially driven by how confused I was by the things I had seen. But there was more to it and I did not know what.
I also knew, that come hell or high water I had made certain commitments to myself and I needed to honor those. So I got in touch with me and set out to do what was in front of me to do next, cleaning the laundry room.
I gathered my supplies and my iPod and set about the task at hand. Suddenly, the real pattern in my thinking forced its way into my consciousness. My fear of being alone, abandoned, unsafe, my fears of being neglected were all wrapped up in the things I had seen. They were skewing my perception, distorting my reaction. I began to cry. And then, I was done. My heart still hurts I still miss our family pet. I still miss the other creature whose end I witnessed, completely by accident. But, I don't feel outraged, I don't feel liking shaming anyone, I don't feel guilty or wanting to lay guilt on anyone, and I don't feel pity for myself or these other beings who signed up in whatever capacity to live in an impermanent world that takes no prisoners. And I know that peeling away another layer of my thinking eventually leads to more joy. Eventually.
(Harry, whose first name was Sally until we could no longer ignore the large anatomy proving he was a boy. We had 5 years with you, you awesome little man.)
Forest School at Crestwood Park
1 day ago