DINNER BELL (They Might Be Giants)
January 2, 2020

Since we’re still stuck in the hospital in somewhat of a holding pattern, waiting for the surgery date to arrive, I’ve been doing a lot of daydreaming and plotting.  Naturally, inspired by the new year, new decade, and in part by the outpouring of support from all walks of my life, I’ve been trying to come up with a way to bring my worlds together and to be able to spend real time with people.  Ways to show my appreciation and gratitude for their care.

I love to entertain and I love evenings spent enjoying food, drink, lively conversation and games.  There’s a Barefoot Contessa episode where she’s in Paris and one of the expat chefs she cooks with explains that he and his wife started hosting weekly dinner parties where they welcomed strangers from their neighborhood as a way to get to meet people.  I love the idea.

We actually started doing monthly summer dinners with a few neighbors last year that have been such a fun way to connect with the people around us.  When I’ve mentioned this to other friends, the reaction is always one of surprise.  I’ve found that quite a lot of people don’t really know their neighbors anymore, and if even they know them, they don’t socialize with them.  I’ve really loved our dinners and look forward to this summer when we get back to it!

While I’ve been here contemplating things I’d like to do in the new year, not resolutions, mostly actions, my husband shared a Facebook post from a colleague who lives in New Jersey (his company welcomes people working remotely so their staff are all over the country, and a couple even outside the country).  She and her husband starting hosting monthly pasta dinners when they purchased their home as way to entertain, meet new people, see existing friends, and make use of their new home.  I loved it and wanted to know more about how they came to do this.  Turns out they were inspired by a blog post on Serious Eats, where a couple decided to do a weekly Friday Night Meatballs dinner.

The point of the evenings is to bring people together not to impress everyone with your culinary prowess or to spend a week preparing for these evenings.  It’s about keeping things simple, sharing your space and time connecting with people in your life and connecting people in your life with each other.  The mix of guests can be forever changing even if the meal itself remains the same, dinner after dinner.  Evenings can end up with lively games and other fun simple entertainment – impromptu karaoke anyone?

I’m dreaming of being home and figuring out how this idea can find its way into our routine.  One of the greatest gifts of Cole’s spinal surgery journey has been the recognition that we have a big community of people who care about us.  I really want to welcome them into our real life and implementing a regular dinner night seems like a perfect way to do just that.  I can’t wait to see who will actually join us!  I really hope we have a revolving mix of people open to the magic of togetherness!

Hero-Dinner-Party

Posted in Backyard Living, cerebral palsy, Connectivity, Cooking, Dinner Parties, Family Life, Friendship, Gratitude, Life, Special needs parenting | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

LET’S START THE NEW YEAR RIGHT (Bing Crosby)
December 30, 2019

It’s hard to believe that 2019 is coming to an end – not only 2019 but the decade.  It’s hard not to have this past month define much of 2019, but the reality is there have been a lot of things that happened in 2019 that are to be celebrated.  Perhaps looking back, our current hospital adventures will be celebrated too.  At the very least, our survival of them!

One of the things I’ve worked on this past decade is to be more open to asking for and accepting help.  Somewhere in the last few years I started going to a special needs moms support group, which started opening me up to exposing myself.  I also have a couple of dear friends who encourage the same of me and it’s transforming my psyche.  I’m definitely a work in progress and will probably always be such but learning to be open to change and vulnerability have impacted my life in more ways than just as a mom.

I’m not good at resolutions so my interest in the start of a new year doesn’t really lie in committing myself to do this or improve that.  The usual things like devoting more time to wellness (fitness/healthy eating/sleeping), finding balance in life, being my best self are ongoing endeavors.  A couple of years ago I challenged myself (along with a friend) to try to do new or different things throughout the year.  That too is something I hope to continue to explore.  I was gifted a guitar for Christmas this year so learning to play is on the agenda – I have some lofty songs I hope to eventually master!  I also want to challenge myself to write more – whether it’s this blog, short stories or even letters to loved ones.  The practice is cathartic and I dream of one day having something published, making the practice even more important.

I see 2020 being the start of a movement where I strive to be more present with my time, care and interest in my family, friends and others.  I greatly appreciate the simple, but intimate joy, of spending time with people I care about or am interested to know better over shared meals, experiences and time.  I don’t feel like I do it enough though and really want to have impromptu meals, game nights, afternoons hiking with friends.  I’m at an age where life feels more fleeting.  An age where both peers and parents are leaving us or are facing health challenges.  Time shared is so much more valuable than any purchased gift.  My perspective of this value has deepened as I’ve aged and I feel strongly about drawing my community more into my everyday life, holding them dear and near, celebrating nothing and everything.

On that note, slightly in advance, here’s to a bright 2020!  I wish you all a glorious new year filled with promise, joy and love!

 

 

Posted in cerebral palsy, Connectivity, Family Life, Friendship, Joy, Life, Optimism, Resolutions, Special needs parenting, Wiritng | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

BLUE CHRISTMAS (Elvis Presley)
December 24, 2019

Today is Christmas Eve.  We’ve been living at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles (CHLA) since December 4th.  Cole’s surgery has been rescheduled due to a cold he caught here.  If all goes well and he stays healthy for the next weeks, it will be January 6th.  We thought by January 6th we’d be well into healing but have hit bumps all along the way.

Christmas Eve is Cole’s favorite holiday.  For seventeen of his Christmas Eve’s, we’ve gone to my brother’s house to celebrate with our family and extended family, usually my sister-in-laws siblings, their kids and her dad an his wife.  Sometimes her half siblings and their children join as well so there’s 20-24 people gathering together for a night of fun.  We arrive with a non-gender grab bag gift, ready for a great night. The evening starts with cocktails and appetizers as everyone tumbles in.  Lots of catching up and lively chatter.

Eventually we all take our assigned seats and the feast begins.  It’s a traditional roast beef and Yorkshire pudding meal with two salad choices, two veggies, mashed potatoes, au jus, horseradish and lots of yummy wines.  It does not deviate.  Convivial conversation abounds as we all devour the delights.  Once we’re done eating, we migrate to the living room were we all don crazy Christmas hats that my brother has collected over the years. Some are Santa hats, some silly ones, some Hanukkah ones (we’re a multi-cultural family).  We then choose our day of Christmas and sing a rousing, often terrible Twelve Days of Christmas.

While we’re singing, someone sneaks out and throws on a furry, plush Santa suit and beard and appears just as the singing ends with little gifts for the younger ones.  Over the years it’s been most of the adults, and more recently the eldest of the cousins.  It’s silly but depending upon who is Santa that year, can be quite funny.

Following Santa’s visit, we settle back around the tables with cookies and sweet treats and take an annual holiday trivia quiz to determine the playing order for Dirty Santa.  Once we set the order, the game begins.  Starting from low to high, someone selects a grab bag gift. The next person can either steal (maximum of three steals per gift), or choose a wrapped grab bag gift, and so on.  The coveted gifts get stolen until they can be stolen no more.  Gift cards and tech gadgets are popular.

At this point it’s nearing 11:00 pm and everyone’s winding down, heading home, getting ready for Santa and the next day’s festivities.  In Cole’s mind, this is the perfect night.

Sadly, this year we’re stuck at CHLA.  It’s a fantastic hospital to be stuck in if you find yourself stuck in a hospital on Christmas.  But nevertheless, we won’t be with the rest of our crew and one of us will wake up at home alone (me) tomorrow because only one parent can stay the night and it’s my husband’s night.  We were gifted a little faux tree this morning complete with twinkle lights and few ornaments and have a festive collection of holiday stuffed animals that have been gifted to Cole by thoughtful visitors lending further to the holiday feel, though it somehow still doesn’t quite feel Christmasy.

Cole seems to fluctuate between being happy and sad when reminded it’s Christmas Eve. I think he might rather just have the next two days pass without much fanfare as we inch closer to the January 6th date.   Tomorrow I’ll bring a festive bag, left by Santa, with his gifts and hopefully it will be a cheery day.

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Posted in cerebral palsy, Christmas, Family Life, Gratitude, holidays, Life, Special needs parenting, Surgery | Tagged: , , , , | Leave a Comment »

THE GHOST IN YOU (Psychedelic Furs)
December 17, 2019

I’m sitting in an armchair with Cole sleeping next to me in 27 lbs of traction, nursing a cold.  The last thing we need is a cold or illness of any sort but weeks in hospital in December are hardly the best circumstances to prevent illness!  Nurses and other kids all have the same little cough that he has.  Who knows where it came from – there are so many people coming in and out of the wing…So we’re doing all we can to keep it from getting worse. The surgery is scheduled for December 24th, which gives a week.

The traction process seems to be going well.  Cole’s spine is responding favorably to the slow stretching and from the last x-rays his ribcage is shifting back into place.  He sits so much straighter which gives us an idea of how he will sit following the surgery.  It’s really positive and he says he’s more comfortable even in the traction – and how can he not be?  His pelvis is straighter so he sits better and it’s also no longer touching his rib cage.  With his rib cage straighter, his lungs are no longer impacted so his breathing is better and simply sitting straighter really has an impact on his overall image – he looks more mature and present.

We’re now two full weeks into this incredibly weird existence.  I feel like a ghost in my life.  I spend about 75% of my time at the hospital, returning home every other night to cuddle our lonely, confused dog, do a load of laundry, sleep, shower and return to the hospital the next morning.  I can tell my husband has been there but we’ve not been in the house together for two weeks.  We spend time at the hospital together but with Cole and visitors and nurses, aides, doctors…endless comings and goings at all hours.

It’s hard to know what to do with myself when I’m home.  I’ve wrapped all of our gifts, though I’m not sure why.  We do have stuff we’ll pass along to my family for their celebrations and we shipped to family out of state but what of our celebration?  How do you celebrate when you know you’ll be spending Christmas Eve waiting with worry while your son undergoes a ten hour surgery with a couple of hours of pre and post op on either side of that ten hours?  How do you celebrate Christmas when your son will be in the PICU on Christmas and likely Boxing Day? We’ve considered doing something before with Cole but we can only have two visitors so we can’t even do something with the just my brother and his family and my mom, who is coming down from Oregon.  The reality is it doesn’t matter much to my husband and I, but it does matter to Cole, whose favorite holiday is Christmas.

None of this matters except getting him back to full health before surgery and then getting him through the surgery and the next month of recovery.  We’ll have to create a new holiday after all this is but a memory so that he can celebrate his recovery, bravery, and grace that he’s shown throughout these weeks.

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Posted in cerebral palsy, Christmas, Family Life, Gratitude, Life, Special needs parenting, Stress, Surgery | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

I’LL BE THERE FOR YOU (The Rembrandts)
December 9, 2019

We’re closing our 6th day of pretty much living at Children’s Hospital LA (CHLA).  Cole was admitted last Wednesday and will be here until the end of the year, maybe just into 2020.  We’re surviving.  Actually better than surviving.  We’re getting into a routine where we’re both hanging out with Cole during the day and then one of us goes home to attempt a good night of sleep and to spend some time with Luna, our poor, needy ten year old Golden Doodle.  Then it’s back to CHLA.

Cole’s days are filled with lots of nurses, doctors, residents, and various support staff popping in for vitals, to add weight to his traction, to help us with anything we need – like transferring him from the bed to the traction wheelchair for an outing or helping with other needs.  He’s also had a barrage of very welcome and much appreciated visitors.  At first it felt overwhelming but now that he’s more settled and doing remarkably well with the traction, the visits have been a great source of joy.  For him, and for us.

It took me a long time to understand that it’s okay to ask for help, support, or care.  Early into my parenting journey, I did my best to be an island.  I have always been a pretty self-sufficient person and in fact often served as the maternal one amongst my pack of friends when I was single. I’m pretty good about jumping in when someone is in need and am always at the ready to help. I’m appreciative when someone recognizes that I am in need, but in the past it was hard for me to fully accept it.

Nowadays, I try to ask.  I reach out to friends when I’m struggling and I have tried to build a support network so that I don’t have to go through things alone (I should clarify that my husband is the biggest part of my support and a great partner – but he’s also sometimes going through the same things as I am such as Cole’s current medical situation).  I was part of a special needs mom’s group for a while, which I think is where I  both realized how much I like having people in my life who understand some of the unique parts of my parenting experience, and how valuable regular sharing is to me.

I’ve learned that being an island is not what’s best for me.  I like knowing that people are thinking of me and wishing my family well, particularly in high stress situations like the traction and looming spinal fusion surgery.  I also really like being able to show the same support and care to my friends, near, far, and in the social media stratosphere. It’s one of the most positive aspects of social media – the strength and heart of many.  I know not everyone feels this way but having gone through some of Cole’s surgeries quietly and the more recent ones more publicly, I can honestly say that the impact of sharing truly helps to quell fears, stand tall, and to make it through the long days and nights.

So keep the love coming and know that if ever you find yourself in need, I’ll be there for you.

Posted in cerebral palsy, Connectivity, Family Life, Friendship, Gratitude, Kindness, Special needs parenting, Stress | Tagged: , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

THREE LITTLE BIRDS (Bob Marley)
November 11, 2019

Several months ago a dear friend asked me to be part of one of the segments of a podcast she created.  It would be me, and another close friend, and her talking about the effect of having children with special needs on our lives.  The three of us know each other well so despite my nervousness, I agreed to do it.

I arrived at the designated address and was directed to a studio where there were big microphones (the furry ones that get placed right up near your face) and some chairs.  There were lots of audio crew people and producers and Amy, the host, our friend Dawn, and me.  We sat and started chatting under Amy’s topic direction.  The three of us each have a child with special needs.  Amy’s daughter is Cole’s age and we’ve been close for twelve or thirteen years now.  Cole and her daughter continue to be pals despite being at different high schools these past several years.  Dawn is someone Amy and I met a few years ago at a support group.  Her daughter is younger than our kiddos but she became a fast friend.  So the set up felt comfortable and the conversation somewhat familiar though we delved deeper than we might over cocktails at a mom’s night out.

After a point, the other people and equipment sort of melted away and the conversation flowed easily.  We recorded for an hour or more, shed a few tears, laughed a little and left our vulnerability on the floor.  I left feeling pleased about doing something new, getting out of my comfort zone and not allowing my nerves to completely defeat me.  Happy to have spent a little time sharing with two people I love and trust, and curious to know how it would all sound if and when it aired (is that what podcasts do? Air? Stream?).

Tomorrow, months since we recorded, our episode enters the world.  It’s available on whatever platform you listen to podcasts on like Apple.  The first five episodes of the podcast have all been released in the previous weeks and this is the final of this round.  I hope there will be more seasons or whatever podcast runs are called because it’s a really interesting, thoughtful and thought provoking premise.

It’s called The Challengers with Amy Brenneman.  It’s not a “I had a challenge and came through and everything is rosey” kind of look at challenges in life.  It’s more about how life challenges have us (collectively) stepping more into humanity because of or inspite of the challenges.  The guests she chose for the these first six are all fascinating and diverse.  I highly recommend listening to all of them.

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Here’s a link to the podcast.   I hope you listen…

The Challengers

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FOREVER YOUNG (Eddie Vedder)
September 20, 2018

Cole’s turning seventeen today.  Yes, that’s right, the boy is seventeen years old.

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been riding the wave of his life for seventeen years.  When we became parents to Cole in particular, our own lives ceased to be our own lives.  I think it’s a reality of parents with 24/7 children in a way that is vastly different from parents of typical children.  In many ways, kids like mine are forever young.

Cole’s at an age where most his peers are wildly independent.  They’re staying home on their own, managing much of their social lives and school activities, and many of them are driving.  They’re all starting to contemplate the move from high school to college and hunkering down with their studies to ensure they have top grades, interesting community service in place, and strong SAT scores.

Seventeen looks very different in our family.  In some ways it doesn’t look much different than sixteen, or fifteen or fourteen, which in all honesty breaks my heart, because I know eighteen will likely feel the same.  Cole has delays in his development and will likely never pass the four foot mark.  In many ways he’s neurologically on track, but in other ways his comfort is still found in the same things that brought him comfort and joy when he was little.  His needs remain high, though to us fairly simple and second nature.  We struggle with the same obstacles – encouraging him to want independence, to use his voice (his Tobii – an eyegaze voice output device), and to develop new age appropriate interests.

Yet, he seems content with his life.  He loves high school and has made some good friends who he sees outside of school too, while still maintaining some of his life-long friendships, and he does well in his classes, excepting his lack of interest in using his Tobii has proven to be a frustration to his teachers and peers as well.  Outside of school he’s still happily participating in iDance and enjoying playing in his Champions baseball league.

He’s developed an interest in photography thanks to his summer spent hanging with Nelson.  Art has always been something he enjoys dabbling in but the interest in photography is new and we’re hoping to help him to expand it.  We bought him a camera that he can operate using an iPad/iPhone as both the viewer and button or a switch to take the shot and are keen to see where this hobby takes him. In typical teen fashion, any curiosity we show in his photography is met with eyes rolling and the shut down…

Ebbing on seventeen has also broadened his willingness to expand his musical repertoire and his TV viewing.  There are still times where only the music of Ralph’s World or Sesame Street or endless Holiday music will satisfy him but there are other times, more frequent times, when I can introduce new bands or playlists to him and he’s pleased.  I’ve been having the success with his TV down time. I’m not willing to watch endless hours of Little Bill or even The Barefoot Contessa, so constantly try new things and movies and lately, as he neared seventeen, he’s been a willing viewer. It gives me hope.

I’d love it if he’d show an interest in books.  I feel like resources like Audible could give him some independence and off screen time but still engage and entertain him but he’s not quite there yet.  I love to fall into a good book and so does my husband. To have Cole develop the love of a good book would please me to no end.  Oh the places, people and adventures he could explore…

Turning seventeen brings him a year closer to being an adult and having more adult feelings and curiosities. He has always been very fond of girls and has had crushes here and there over the years but this summer he fell hard.  It’s unchartered waters for us and I don’t really know what romance looks like for him.  I feel like it needs to be treated differently than the way I facilitate or manage friendships, but I don’t know exactly what that means.

I am keenly aware that much of my mixed feelings about Cole aging, or not, are just that, my mixed feelings.  Feeling blessed to have my son in my life, and loving him more than I can possibly convey can live with me sometimes mourning the loss of typical experiences both he and I would have had if things were different.  I don’t know if he considers “what if” in his own mind, and I avoid it when I can, but I’m human and I sometimes can’t help but wonder, or be sad.

IMG_1768My boy is seventeen today. Yes, seventeen years old!  He’s remarkable and brings grace to every day of my life.  I celebrate him today and everyday and hope that he’ll remain forever young…

Posted in cerebral palsy, Family Life, Gratitude, High School, Independence, Life, Motivation, Special needs parenting, Teenage angst, Teenagers | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

IT’S MY LIFE (Jon Bon Jovi)
September 19, 2018

Sometimes I marvel at the things I know about because Cole is my son.  While it’s now all old hat to us, we had an extra learning curve beyond simply being new parents, when he came into our world. We had all of the usual stuff and then all of the medical and therapeutic interventions to contend with, as well as quick introductions to agencies and supports and special education. And of course, random weird things that come into our life.

In case you don’t know, Cole is fed through a g-tube.  The only way we could leave the NICU, after five long weeks, was to have a g-tube inserted because he was not able to suck a bottle or boob.  We had hoped he would catch on when we got him home but seventeen years later he’s still tube fed.

Yesterday I was placing an order for his feeding supplies, which typically includes his formula, gravity flow bags and every other month a new mickey-button (the part that actually is inserted into his belly and held by a little tiny balloon that holds 5 cc’s of water).  I was asked what size, because they like to have you repeat every detail of the order, your contact details and lots of details about Cole EVERY time you call to place a monthly order to make sure you are who you say you are and are ordering supplies for who you say you are ordering supplies for – I’m assuming because there’s a huge black market demand for formula and mickey-buttons.  Anyway, I digress.  I give the size, 16 French, and it occurs to me that I would never know what that means if not for Cole.

Tubing, often catheters and feeding tubing, is designated by French or “Fr” to note the size of the tubing. It’s a French scale where every millimeter is multiplied by .33 (Fun Fact: The French are fond of the number “3” – I deal with withholding tax at work and the France to US withholding tax is 33.33%), so Cole’s tube is 16Fr multiplied by .33, making it 5.28 millimeters wide.  Pretty small.

In the years of parenting Cole, we have had to deal with some many different therapists, agencies, doctors and medical interventions.  He’s had surgeries and treatments that exposed us to so many new adventures.  When he was still small enough to be tucked in to a Baby Bjorn, he did acupuncture to help open his brain flow.  I’d wear him and spend the whole time trying to keep him from puncturing me once his head was full of needles!  He did botox in his hips and arms before it became mainstream for faces, he had his back and neck muscles supported with Japanese kinesio tape before it was available in the US, and now gets Watsu (aquatic Shiatsu) massage when he does aquatic therapy.  I’m actually going to take a two day Watsu training class next weekend so I can take advantage of our pool and support his aquatic therapy at home too.

Being his mom keeps me on my toes and keeps me expanding my knowledge and researching every little potential interest, development, resource, product, therapy, intervention that I hear about related to cerebral palsy, communication, inclusion, education, life as an adult with special needs, etc.  I’m sure I miss a lot but thankfully I have a community of moms who all do the same and we share.  It’s a unique experience that thankfully we share with a welcoming wonderful community of likewise unique families.

 

Posted in cerebral palsy, Education, Family Life, Friendship, Gratitude, Life, Special needs parenting | Tagged: , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

TALK TO ME (Chris Isaak)
September 15, 2018

Cole’s first junior year report card arrived yesterday.  Straight A’s. He’s fairly consistently receiving A’s and a very occasional B on his high school report cards and always with E’s, and is always proud of himself when the grades are revealed.  We are proud too, of course.  For Cole, the grades are both a mix of subjective grading, his effort, and his understanding of the given subject.  He has modified work and the benefit of one on one class time with his Special Ed (SpEd) teacher.  It doesn’t diminish the grades and is certainly reflective of the attention he puts forth in class.  He takes a fair amount of pride in maintaining his grades and in the attention he receives for doing so.

I just wish he put forth the same interest and effort in developing some of his communication skills and independence at home.  He would gain so much by engaging in conversation with people outside of school, including me and his dad.  He has friends who desperately want him to use his Tobii (eye gaze generated voice output device) to talk with them.  Teens, even understanding, kind hearted teems, don’t always welcome the parent invasion when they’re hanging out.  Having time with friends, independent of a parent or even of a support adult to help facilitate conversation, would be so incredible for him.  It’s such a valuable facet of friendship.

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I’ve gone so far as to suggest to some friends that they tell him that they won’t chat with him until he starts chatting with them using his Tobii.  His friends are too sweet to listen to me and continue to talk to him despite his aversion to the Tobii.  He met a girl this summer who is very similar to him in diagnosis and also uses a Tobii, though she is happily reliant upon it and uses it well and often. I’m told she pressed him to use it during summer school and he was slightly more receptive, which makes me hopeful that he with the right motivation he’ll warm to it.

I understand part of his reluctance, or disdain, for the device.  Cole’s a people person.  He’s very keen on eye contact and adept at communicating some of his needs and reactions through small sounds and various facial expressions and smiles.  The Tobii obstructs his direct view of people he’s “talking” with.  It’s also taxing to use, both physically and mentally, so an element of laziness factors in too, especially if he’s asked to use Tobii with his dad and I.  We’ve developed a strong understanding of him, but even with us there’s so much left to our interpretation.  He’s often just not bothered enough to be frustrated or care. I really wish he were.

I just want him to use his voice…to express his thoughts, opinions, and needs.  I want him to deepen his friendships by opening them up through mutual communication and the intimacy that comes from friends sharing. I want him to engage new people in conversation or to initiate conversation. I want him to show interest in other people by asking questions or simply saying “Hello” aloud.  I want him to expand upon his education by using his voice to express his knowledge and understanding.  I want all of these things for him…

If only he did…

Posted in cerebral palsy, Conversation, Correspondence, Education, Family Life, High School, Independence, Life, Motivation, Special needs parenting, Teenage angst | Tagged: , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Anthem (Leonard Cohen)
September 14, 2018

There is a crack in Everything. That’s how the light gets in…

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It’s one of my favorite song lyrics from the Leonard Cohen song Anthem, but a long standing notion that the crack or imperfection is what gives us a path to greater existence. Rumi, the Sufi poet and philosopher, has a similar oft quoted line, “The wound is the place where the light enters you.”, invoking the same idea of imperfection being a road to enlightenment.

I feel like this is the endless journey I have encouraged myself to pursue.  It’s one of acceptance and betterment and I hope to travel it for the rest of my life.  For most of my teen and adult years I’ve struggled with confidence, self-love, and frequently battled myself and losing.  I tend to be my own worst enemy and harshest critic.  I allow my insecurities to shout the loudest and engage them to idly defend me when I feel put upon or angered.  They’re not my best voice because they prevent me from seeing myself or allowing me to be vulnerable.  They’re cruel and lash out.  They deflect.

I’m trying to teach myself to step back and react from my heart even if it means admitting I’m culpable in an action or behavior or that I myself feel hurt or scorned by someone or an action.  Decades of unfettered reaction are slow to turn around but it’s an effort worth taking because when I’m successful, when I approach conflict with calm and sincerity, it’s resolved amicably nearly always.

I want to be a good example for my son, an example of someone who has flaws but is constantly trying to evolve and resolve and flow.  I want him to see that he can be fluid in this way and open his heart and mind to be kind and caring even in conflict or stress.  I want him to know that the pursuit of enlightenment is something more personal and internal for every one of us, but that the result of this endeavor results in a gentler, kinder community and world.

When I was a kid, I was often as described as “nice”.  I kind of hated it because I likely wanted to be thought of as the pretty one or the cool one or the smart one.  No, I was the nice one.  In retrospect I greatly appreciate the compliment.  We should all strive to be the nice one. We should all let the light shine through our cracks…

 

 

 

Posted in Family Life, Fear, Friendship, Gratitude, healing, Kindness, Life, Motivation, Special needs parenting | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

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