Life throws curve balls, like when so much happens that you want to remember or record, but you're too exhausted to type even a few lines. Yeah, that.
I'll remember this week, possibly forever. I hope forever? Until I get dementia like a lot of the women in my family then maybe I'll only remember what a cute hair cut I got this week and not the important things.
Like having a therapy session that finally helped me understand what trauma can do to a mother and what that looks like to a daughter. When your Mom has a lot of magical thinking, that it's her way of coping and not really about you. That when she clings to her ideas way more than people, even you, it's what she crafted to feel secure, even though she says all she needs is God.
It means you can care more and less all at the same time. It means you can stop obsessing and finally be free of taking care of someone whose needs are beyond your capabilities. You can be a daughter and know it won't ever calm her soul to the point you wished it could. It means you accept reality as it is, see the good that's still happening and let it all fall as it is, where it is.
Sitting and talking to Jay for an hour about a range of topics and not being triggered. Not feeling the need to defend. Asking questions. Listening. Being present. Not being distracted.
Just that.
Doing it again the next night. Same thing.
I've been driving through wheat fields to sit at the feet of these wise women. On the week of International Women's Day, it seems fitting to pay Sister Gee and Kay the tribute of saving my life and bringing lasting mental peace and rest. Now I have the ability to more healthfully live and carry their messages to others.
Isn't this what Jesus meant when he said the truth will set you free? And that he came to heal the sick with a message of non-dual conscious living and loving? And that the blind would see? I don't know anyone else more blind than I've been. Sight is fun to try on.
Amen.
Free, free at last.