Becoming Who I Am

It’s been a looong time since I’ve blogged. I could blame time, but I really just haven’t been in the mood. I had an experience so profound that it is changing me. I’ve been contemplating whether or not to write about it because of the fear of what others will think of me…but this has become such a part of who I am that if I don’t begin sharing, who are the people I love really seeing? They are seeing someone who is not being true to who they are. And so, I have made the decision to start sharing a part of myself I used to hide.

I’ve always been sensitive to things around me since I was child. I learned to fear this because I thought these things must not be ‘real’ and I was ‘crazy.’ When I was 19, my cousin passed away, and this affected me deeply. It was soon after this that I would, when I was alone, feel a presence. It was close and comforting, but I would become afraid and chase it away (I have experienced this same being many times since then). I would also sense my cousin close to me but did not talk about this to anyone.

It wasn’t until the last year and a half or so that I have tried to get in touch with that part of myself, meditate, and find others to learn from. I have had many, many experiences since then (some of which I will share at another time), usually leaving me thinking “did I just see that?” or “did I just do that?” Never trusting myself or spirit that the information it was getting and what I was experiencing was real, indeed.

Then, a few weeks ago, I felt this presence again, but this time, I decided to pass on the fear and close my eyes and meditate on it. This spirit wrapped themselves around me and felt very loving. I decided to ask a question, and so I asked him “who are you” and he showed me his face, very clearly and gave me a name, both of which I am sure are for my benefit to identify with. He took my hand, and I began to trust this spirit. He is what some might refer to as a “guide.” I really don’t like that term, and I just say he is a spirit of significance to me. I had a huge awakening that way. Now, I am getting loads of information, and I do not think I can just turn it off anymore. I am learning to trust my intuition again and trust spirit.

I have several friends and family members who are right there with me, some of who have similar paths, and some who are just supportive and believe as I do. It pains me when I receive a message for someone, and I cannot give it to them, because I fear they will reject it or even be angry, or worse, just think I am not all there.

So this is somewhat of an introduction, as I intend to post more on this matter in the future. I guess what I’m saying is I’m getting to a place where I don’t care as much about what people think about me. I’m not quite there yet, but I need to be who I really am, and this is a huge part of me.

Spiritual clarity....

I had a very eye-opening weekend almost a week ago, and I’m having a difficult time putting it in words. I guess the best way I can word is to say that I felt totally connected with spirit, and I have an awareness that I had not previously known before.

I have been on the precipice of a fairly big decision for a while now, and it’s something that has been very difficult, because it will affect not only myself, but also my family a great deal. I went back and forth, “knowing” what it is I need to do, but doubting my ability and resolve to do it. I also have most of my family and friends behind me on this decision. Not only that, but my schedule just fell into place that would greatly help me with this. Many other signals that what was happening now was very negative and that I need to move forward for the benefit of my family. Everything just seems to be falling into place for that decision. It felt right.

Despite all this, I had ‘fear’ about this decision. Most of this fear revolves around what “other people” might think or say. How do I explain to them? Try as I might, I do still care what other people think (sometimes)…something I am working on.

Then, something very powerful happened on Saturday. I’m not going to go into I this venue, but I finally got it loud and clear what it is I need to do. It came from within me and outside of me. Total clarity. My friends who understand spirituality the way I do will maybe understand what I am saying. I know this is right with my whole being and that whatever self-doubt I have I need to brush aside for this along with any of the outside influence that might object. I feel I have to listen to this.

In fact, just the other day, someone asked me if maybe I should hold off on this for a while. I told them how can I deny that this anymore? The message is so clear. I can no longer ignore this.

This experience has opened up a whole new spiritual awareness for me, and I feel energized and very connected at this moment. Listening to my intuition has always been difficult for me, but I think this is a huge step forward for me in recognizing the difference between intuition and fear.  I thank my friends and family for holding my hand along the way :)

Hard day

Today marks 3 months since dad passed away. I woke at about 1 a.m. with a feeling of dread. Today has been really hard. The weather today is cold and rainy, and I realized that I don’t remember what the weather was like July 21. I don’t remember a lot about that time. I spent much of the day fighting back the sadness that is threatening to take over. I would like to write much more in depth, but this is all I have in me today. I miss you dad.

The "other" part of me

Today is my day off, AND there are no children in the house this morning. Most who read this probably don’t know that I have bipolar disorder. It’s not that it is a big secret.

I decided to take a drive this morning, as I occasionally do (my ‘drive’ time has been seriously cut back since the gas prices rose a couple of years ago). This time, I found myself all the way up in Cannon Falls (about an hour away), before I turned around. I had a lot of thoughts come up about my bipolar illness on my drive.

One of the things that went through my mind was that I do not hate her (this illness), at least not anymore. There are parts about her that I love, in fact. The creative part of me is very much linked to the bipolar part of me. That makes it difficult to want to continue on meds (although the med I have been on for a while has kept me pretty stable without completely squashing that creative part of me). The times when I have been hypomanic are the times when I’ve done my best writing. They are also the times when I have been the most self-destructive. I sometimes miss the bipolar part of me. Although she does show up briefly from time to time to try and wreak some havoc :), it's not usually lifechanging the way she used to be, and we are slowly learning to co-exist.

Let it go

I thought I had my child figured out. I had made a decision to let some things go and let her be herself and not try to change her into someone who will ‘fit in.’ No more meeting confrontation with confrontation. Then, the meltdown to beat all meltdowns happens this afternoon; the kind of meltdown that really tested my resolve not to raise my voice. I wanted to fix the situation and help her calm down, but I realized finally that nothing I could do other than sit back and let it happen and wait her out on her terms. I did not break. I did not raise my voice. It was a very, very long wait (a challenge on my patience).

Tomatoes and Other Perishable Things

Sunday, August 30, 2009

So this is the 3rd night in a row (I know, can’t hardly believe it myself) that I’ve made dinner from scratch. I had a bag of vegetables (tomatoes and cucumbers) from my parent’s garden. I love tomatoes…so did dad. Dad worked very hard in that garden up until a couple of weeks before he passed.

Every summer for many years, I’ve waited impatiently for dad’s tomatoes to ripen. He grew the best tomatoes (in my opinion). This fall will be the last of them, the ones that dad grew anyway. About a week ago, I ate the last cookie that he had made (after retirement, dad started baking). Soon, there will be a lot of firsts…the first holidays without dad, the first milestones that he won’t be here for.

As I cut into the tomatoes this afternoon, I tried to relish each bite that I stole while making dinner, and watched as the seeds and juice spilled out onto the cutting board not wanting to waste any of it now.

Beautiful Day

Today, I woke up with this glorious feeling that everything is going to be alright now. The weather was perfect for me, 60 degrees with a slight breeze and wispy clouds. Just beautiful. The feeling that fall, my favorite season, is on the way. I went for a drive as I often do, and I couldn’t shake this feeling that the past couple of years of a most difficult time were over and that this was the beginning of something new and brighter. All of the burdens of my dad’s illness, Matt’s dad’s illness, the flood, and so much more felt lifted.

Then, of course, I felt guilt for feeling this way. And I tried to search for what would be the cause of this guilt. It wasn’t guilt about not getting to say goodbye to my dad and father-in-law. I made sure over the past 2 years that I said all I felt I needed to say to my dad. I spent the past few weeks of his life taking care of him and knowing I did not have any loose ends to tie up there. I got the chance to say goodbye to my father-in-law the day before he past, and it was one of the most beautiful experiences.

So why guilt? And I discovered the reason I felt guilty was because I didn’t feel “bad.” I felt relieved. I searched deeper inside of myself. Mind you, I was driving, so too deep of soul-searching could be hazardous. But, a place very deep inside me whispered that guilt is a useless emotion. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel relieved that it’s all over, that, maybe, finally, a dark cloud is lifting. Relief. It’s okay to enjoy the new day set before me. It’s okay to have a moment of deep sadness and then soon after that a moment of joy.

I just have a feeling that there are much bigger things ahead for me and probably brighter too. I know the sadness is going to return, and probably frequently, but I’m not afraid of it.