Responding to my comment “after 42 years of marriage, maybe he was trying to kill me”, the doctor shuddered with that little nervous giggle and said..ya, that’s the way I would do it…through the ear. hahahah
He was hanging pictures on the wall yesterday afternoon and was using a razor blade knife with a brand new blade to cut marking tape. He laid the knife on the back of the couch for a second. The next second, I bounced down on the couch, the knife tipped off the couch and into my ear. As I reached up to remove it, I realized it wasn’t laying against my ear…the point was IN MY EAR! I swear if I had thought about it at my moment of panic, I would have taken a Stephen King scenario type picture sans the blood. The blood had chosen a different route as it meandered a path through the bony structure of the inside of my ear. I think the tickle brought me back to reality realizing that what I imagined as the most important aspect being a knife sticking vertically in my ear….was now actually something that happened in the past as I realized I was bleeding somewhere “in there”. At his suggestion I stuffed a paper towel in the little hole to stop the blood which worked well..applied some frankincense (my go to healing essential oil) with a Q tip, made an appointment for this morning with the doctor and basically forgot about it because there was really no pain.
Dr appointment: nurse who took me into the room using her calm voice. OMG HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. Doctor enters the room…”shook her hands in front of her in a professional shudder” and said…HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? After the exam, I asked her if she could see it and she said…Oh YA..I can see it. Prognosis…its fine if it gets infected and begins to hurt or seep fluid, call me!
I had a blessed visit this morning with my dad…..it manifested with steepled fingers. Elbows on the arms of the chair with all 5 hand digits touching each other only connecting at the finger pads. It’s one of those memories of seeing my dad sitting in his recliner with his head back with his hands touching in the steepled finger position. The very last time I saw my dad was from the door of his hospital room shortly before his transition, laying in bed with fingers in the steepled position occasionally moving his hands as if having a conversation with someone I could not see.
This morning during the Daily Word and meditation portion of our Unity Service with my eyes closed I felt tears beginning to trickle from the outer corners of my closed eyes and my attention was drawn to the fact that my elbows were resting on the arms of the chair and my 5 finger pads on each hand were touching in a steeple position and I knew that my dad was close by. I wondered why the visit!
The energy of my dad visits often when I am open to his guidance or I am in a moment when I recognize I’m feeling lost or lonely and need some love. It’s not that I actually reach out or seek his connection, it’s that he just appears in my vulnerable heart. I am learning to allow the embrace, allow the connection, recognizing that his presence is here with me always and most importantly understanding that his presence is as real as if he were looking at me across the room from his recliner in his physical form.
I have been thinking it was retirement that has taken the pressure off. The pressure of no longer entertaining the belief that I’m not as smart or as worthy as everyone else…mentally living in my head believing that because I didn’t pursue a college educated career I wasn’t as good as or as worthy as others. That’s not it! I jumped out of bed this morning searching for pen and paper in order to get this most recent download recorded.
I’ve always known that I was raised by common parents…common being dad graduated from high school, enjoyed being with himself fishing or hunting, worked a “job” to make a living. Because of his job choice, he was able to take his art to work with him and create who he was on the job while hourly walking around pushing buttons and checking gages. I have no doubt I’m over simplifying his job. My mother didn’t graduate from high school but spent many of my growing up years taking sewing classes and living the life of a secretary for a lawyer. She always called herself a legal secretary and while I knew that “legal secretaries” were probably credentialed…she was theoretically a legal secretary.
I married into a cerebral family which didn’t help my self esteem at the time …. I just knew I was different than they were and did not fit into this family who I assumed looked down on me because I didn’t know “stuff”….I knew street smart stuff, I knew life stuff but I didn’t know the right stuff. The comparison that I always made was an illusion of my own making….if I had only known then what I know now.
I have always been exactly what I was meant to be…it was the ancestoral or familial blocks that had to be excavated, discarded so that I could understand I was a vital part of the whole of humanity. I contributed but I did not understand my part in the big picture was as important as the next person. So when I woke this morning with this knowing. There is nothing I need to do physically, mentally or spiritually to be who I thought I could be…These are just soul blocks that I’m in this lifetime to work through and remove. Being me is not something I need to aspire to …. it is what I AM.
So happy when we uncovered the Naked Ladies (aka Belladonna Lily) today. I had been out looking for them swiping at the mulch cover but obviously had dug around in the wrong spot.
This is probably the 4th year for them to actually pop out of the ground and this year looks to be a strong start! They fall into that favorite flower category albeit a short flowering season.
These flowers have very special meaning to me as they were promised to me as I sat beside the hospice bed of my “other” mom, Neva in April of 2016. She reminded her daughter/my dear friend, Sue….. be sure you dig those up for Nina. Special memories bring special blessings.
He worked in the yard today, I went out and helped pick up sticks and arranged my collection of nighttime lights in the sun so I can determine which ones have survived the winter.
Spring is here. We had our first thunderstorm last night. I’m feeling optimistic, blessed and hopeful. Summer of 2021 is on the horizon,
I’m a long time student of “TRYING” to give up enough fear per day to allow me to release opinions, judgement and those things I have no control over. A few years ago I embraced the fact that I really have no “control” over anything. Thinking we have the ability to control everything is an illusion. Might as well order a “safety cape” which can be purchased online for $9.99.
Judgements….we make judgements on how people look, their gender, their eating habits, their living habits, their ancestors, what car they drive, how they drive, how often they mow their grass, how they parent their children, why they don’t paint their house, how many children they have, how their children behave, their marital status, their sexual identification. Not leaving out the judgements on why people have ill health, “I knew this was going to happen to them!” I saw this coming because they….. I believe first we must become aware that we are making judgements. And how often in our day we are feeling safe and satisfied because we know “they” are wrong. Doing this work, I’ve often asked myself why does it feel so good to be right? Why does it feel so good to elevate myself to a higher position of knowing what’s right for everyone else in my own thinking?
Is this a learned behavior from our parents, our grandparents, our politicians, our teachers….in other words are we adopting our attitudes and judgements from someone else and often don’t even know why we judge or hold tight to “our” beliefs the way we do? Or are these judgements born out of fear….we are afraid…we judge other as some type of control maneuver that protects our physical bodies…our mental health…or the kicker we don’t even know what we are afraid of but what “they” are doing just cannot be right.
It’s a struggle!! But, moment by moment we need to be aware of our fear thoughts and judgements and heal ourselves from the inside out!
Being vulnerable is not a sign of weakness or the enduring fear that there is something wrong with me. Allowing authenticity and vulnerability to surface is actually an indication of knowing who I am and making no apologies for who I am. In fact, by being authentic, I save myself that inner discomfort that someone outside of me can define me!
By working through some (childhood into adulthood) triggers in my life, I know I have often hidden who I am with defensive behavior by going on the attack before I am attacked. We live our life assuming that everyone but me has it all together. We see the weakness in someone else which feeds our ego and that sense of being superior bolsters our self esteem by searching and/or finding vulnerability in others…. manifesting unkind words/actions or irrational anger.
By healing the victim mentality within ourselves and by understanding that nothing outside of ourselves has anything to do with our divine nature allows us to be genuine and authentic in our relationships. One moment, one interaction at a time!
The bottom line for me is the quote from the pen of the Maya Angelou: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better”
We fear so we think if we can control everything around us or within us then we will be safe.
Control is an illusion. Learning to let go of my illusion of control, has been a many decade endeavor. I, seriously, believed that once I understood that there is really nothing I can control that the rest would be gravy, so to speak. I really didn’t understand that driving element of fear pressure cooking inside me. I don’t blame my parents or society for my fear but I do question the circumstances surrounding that knowing of where they came from…these depression age people who lived through knowing about the atrocities that can happen if you don’t fight for and protect yourself…just look at what happened to the Jews. The generation grew up fearing scarcity. Perhaps they survived with an oath of never again.
I know this mentality leaked out…as a child, I caught the drips and drifts of the fear cloud that hung over the 50’s and 60’s. There was often something to be afraid of. Keep your head down, don’t brag and fear other people that are not like you!
The gravel road to understanding and healing myself led me to the spiritual inner voice within…not out there…a very simple concept in reality of who we really are but not an overnight fix by any means. It’s all inside me…the answer is right here….not out there…there’s nothing outside there that I need to control….there is nothing out there controlling me.
And as I told a girlfriend…the fluid is receding… like I need to make a mark to check the progress not like I look in the mirror and say Whoooo I look like myself again. I didn’t post a picture yesterday because I did not appear to have a neck. It was like a balloon tied with a knot on each end. While at one point I looked at it with disgust, I finally came to terms with the bodies ability to heal….I witness this quite often with little bumps as I bash into immovable objects with my body like an out of control freight train.
It’s really a miracle that my skin was cut open, an organ I was born with was removed, I was glued back together and my body takes care of the rest. #gratitude
I was spanked as a child…I remember the evil queen, who was also my mother, bragged about the fact that after my dad spanked me when I was little, she told him he couldn’t do it again because he spanked me too hard…and I don’t ever remember him lifting a hand to me. I will have to say he was only home in the evenings on Tuesday and Wednesday because he worked 3-11 shift during my growing up..so I really only saw him on Tues and Wednesday nights and Saturday and Sunday mornings…I had previously prepared that excuse for the reason he didn’t protect me from Atilla.
Anyway..back to spanking. She used to chase me down the hall swinging the yard stick when I wouldn’t practice piano or I broke something or she was just more disagreeable than normal and she couldn’t squeeze out a tear to show me how much I had hurt her…This is how I grew up…so being ignorant to real life, I thought this was the way you disciplined children…so Jenny got the hand on her bottom quite a few times until I realized I was perpetuating the myth so to speak. (I have since apologized to her several times for hitting her and I believe she has forgiven me). Katy got it only a few times when she desperately needed it or more likely, I needed it to relieve agression. Spare the hand – spoil the child.
The Talk – kind of a lame discussion show modeled after the excellent “The View” – stopped me in my tracks today when they were showing video of a judge and his wife somewhere…maybe Louisiana. The judge and his wife were beating a daughter, who by the way had a medical diagnosis, because she did something wrong. He wasn’t spanking her – he was whipping her with something…it was horrible…I would like to personally hang him to a tree and beat him within an inch of his life…. what does that really say about me. The show continued with a conversation about spanking with everyone throwing in the details of their child discipline…Sarah Gilbert kept driving home that this is beating your children..hitting your children…that if you hit an adult it is assault and you go to jail…woh….Holy Crap WOH…I hadn’t thought about it like that…I’ve totally reversed myself on the issue of spanking a child…there is another way to discipline a child..probably not as easy as hitting them out of frustration but much more loving and effective.