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Mood Clouds

More than a few people have spoken of feeling down recently. How quickly l went to questioning the weather or politics as the cause not even knowing their circumstances.

Because, what if up and down is our natural rhythm? And we all have perpetual memory loss that this is our way?Mood Clouds on shalavee.com

What if it’s as simple as perspective, a random change inside as if the sun is behind the clouds. And then it isn’t. What if we spend less time worrying the sun is gone and more time manifesting that sunlight within?

How would you conjure your sun on a dark dreary day? Music, laughter, puzzle assembly, or baking? A talk with an old friend, looking through a picture album, or going for a walk?

And then remember your answer when your mood clouds start to move in.

Interested in reading my future ponderings on Creative Soul Living?Subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my weekly posts via your emailbox.

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I am a community kinda person and am always practicing Intentional Intouchness.

I live for conversations.

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Our Parents and Ourselves

Anne Lamott said “Write as if your parents are dead.” In an attempt to save people from your truth, you censor yourself from writing about your pain. This pain has made you you and may have been caused by them. And this mutes your most important story. And now Their Shames have become yours. You were made complicit to their crimes against themselves and to you. If you tell, you’ll be bad. Ungrateful. Naughty.

She added, this, “Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family, a long bony white finger would emerge from a cloud and point to you, while a chilling voice thundered, “We *told* you not to tell.” But that was then. Just put down on paper everything you can remember now about your parents and siblings and relatives and neighbors, and we will deal with libel later on.”

I say, let them sue me. I’ve got nothing left to lose. I’m not that close to my parents. Is my debt payed off. Or do I have to keep the shame silence to their grave and then tell all.

I hardly ever speak about my family. Once when I did, I got calls from both of them to let me know they did not appreciate being spoken of. Even if what I said was true, that’s not what we do. And I got another call out from my Aunt blasting me for my lack of gratitude. I’ve been given so much, that should buy my devotion and silence.

I feel my heart ache when I read stories about people who are close to their parents. Who grieve the loss of their parent as a piece of themselves leaving the earth. I feel for and admire them for their grief. Perhaps I should say envy them.Our Parents and Ourselves on Shalavee.com

Maybe Anne Lamott had self-involved parents too.  I have yet to delve into her works as much as I might like. Got busy birthing a baby right around the time when women start their introspective reading journeys in earnest. 

I am trying my hardest to make sure that my daughter and son both know I love and support them, that what they seek in the world is both out there and inside them. I am just a cheerleader. It’s about them not me. Khalil Gibran’s poem ‘Children’ says it all:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you, they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite.
And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hands be for happiness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So He loves the bow that is stable.

Do your best and let go of the rest. If you’re not helping, you’re hurting. And do unto others…

Interested in reading my future ponderings on Creative Soul Living?Subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my weekly posts via your emailbox.

Find me on Instagram to see my daily pictures,

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I am a community kinda person and am always practicing Intentional Intouchness.

I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

The Next Right Thing But Quicker

I’m still struggling with how to do the next rightest thing by my Mom. She’s been out of the hospital for a month. Progress is slow and on her terms. She shrieks and grouses when I attempt to move on to places she’s afraid of. The layers of neglect and chaos are so deep. When you speak with her, all of that is invisible. But I know.

Let’s get real. Holidays are coming. I am the holiday maker, tree decorator, present purchaser, and stocking overlord. That special event is exhausting enough.

And I’m about to do a soft relaunch of my blog. I feel slightly nauseous but happy.

But my house is clean and my toenails are painted. I’ll have my SI joint pain taken care of by Christmas and my hand carpal tunnel operations after that. I keep following the breadcrumbs to my wellness and self-care no matter what.

As women, we know if we don’t take care of it, it might not get taken care of. That includes our family and ourselves. And if I don’t get people to do it themselves and ask for help, then they won’t know how to take care of themselves without me. But that applies to my spawn only and not to people are mentally unwell.

All I can say is that I gather tremendous strength in knowing I have such a supportive community. I know I have given when it has been needed and feel so lucky that I am being gifted the same.

This too shall pass, I just wish it would go a little quicker.

 

Interested in reading my future ponderings on Creative Soul Living? Subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my weekly posts via your emailbox.

Find me on Instagram to see my daily pictures,

friend me or like my page on Facebook.

Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too.

I am a community kinda person and am always practicing Intentional Intouchness.

I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

What Low Self-Worth and Capitalism are Causing You to Do

We live in a society where lack of self-worth has become an epidemic. Low self-esteem is the new black. Most of us have come to believe in our inherent worthless and how we have to work hard, be successful, popular, attractive, healthy, wealthy, and be in control to earn worth.

When we were babies, we knew our worth. All that adulation was as it should be. But as we grow up, we become unaware of our true, unlimited worth. We forgot? It was systematically drained from us as we grew.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! ”

– William Wordsworth –

We’re convinced that in order to regain this worth, we not only have to earn it, we have to buy it. Our cars and our houses and our children’s accomplishments are proof of our worth. What you believe in me has now become my unobtainable goal.

Capitalism has become our new religion and we’ve sacrificed our selves.

Just a reminder for the next time you are feeling unworthy; reach in your heart and remember everyone has equal worth on this planet when they were born. And somehow, that truly doesn’t diminish. And if after you have reminded yourself of this, you still need a little shopping therapy at Target, so be it.

Interested in reading my future ponderings on Creative Soul Living?Subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my weekly posts via your emailbox.

Find me on Instagram to see my daily pictures,

friend me or like my page on Facebook.

Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too.

I am a community kinda person and am always practicing Intentional Intouchness.

I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

I Will Not Ask Your Permission to Parent You

As you may know, we now have an official teenager in our home. Not the 13-year-old wanna be teen. Not the emerging effort teen. We have the full out hormones are making me weird and mindless teen. And no matter what you say, there are certain things I will not accept as normal for a teen.

This is a kid who was so good I used to say he needed a day where he had permission to just be bad all day. He was polite if not thoughtful. Sure Dad, yes Mom. And then, girlfriend, lockdown, and his demands to make his own decisions about his use of “his” phone (paid for by us) hit our house like a hurricane.

That way he would camp out on the sofa, rubbing his stinky head into my couch pillows and leaving his chaos and trash in his wake, was upsetting. So I came up with the dice jar and the driving carrot. That worked for about two weeks.

My husband lost it when, in one day, he spent 7-8 hours straight on the phone. And routinely would just forget any of the chores that we asked of him. The good student was now going to bed at 2 am and sneaking his phone up to his room when that was literally the only rule I had, no phones upstairs.

Two weeks ago, I had had it. His insolence, his arrogance, and his swearing off of the phone if he couldn’t use it the way he wanted. I said time to get a landline then. Pull it. I was unimpressed with all of it. He asked to write us an essay about what he was thinking. And I wrote a rebuttal.

You are correct in saying that you are very responsible in many many ways. Perhaps I do not always see these actions or I take them as for granted as you take me. The respect and consideration that you think you deserve isn’t the same you exhibit.

Your privilege leaves a small wake of chaos behind you. Waste and messy spaces do not look like honor and respect of yourself, your home, or the people you share it with.

When you regularly forget chores, your disregard for how it affects others could be remedied if you were aware your choices always affect others.

The respect of our house and our rules while you live here is non-negotiable. We all have to follow the rules of the road and the world and this is us ensuring that you understand how we value teaching you this and keeping you safe. We will not ask your permission to parent you. We love you too much.

Your old friend Mom.”

When my husband and I spoke before we had a follow up discussion with our son, we both agreed that we stood strong on the phone rules. Rules is rules. When he begins to drive, there are rules that will save his life. We agreed that we did not need to ask permission to parent and bemused the old quote, “management has the right to make bad decisions”. But the phone and all it’s content and liabilities still were in our name.

But what I really wanted to stress was that I honored my job as Mom and keeper of the house. This was a job I took very seriously and his disregard for how hard I worked to make this house a home was very distressing and very disrespectful.

So to all those people who say, Oh that’s just a teenager, I say that he came to my house and he needs to live by my rules. Sometimes this behavior may be predictable but not necessarily acceptable. I will not be intimidated by glowering and sulking. I think these are just tests again to see if he’s important enough to rein in. And I think I can show him both he and I matter in resolving this situation.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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