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There is a song called "My Way.” I smile when I hear the words, "Regrets; I've had a few." Does anyone live life without some misgivings? Of course not; if we are honest, whenever we do a life review, we can always find a “why” or an “if only” somewhere along the way. No one's life will ever be without questions or regrets. At the same time, I don't believe for a moment that anyone lives without something to be thankful for even during times of hardship.
For a long time, as Mother's Day approached I would sit with Spirit, feeling a tug of longing at my heartstrings and wondering about “what might have been.” Carrying the burdens of a lost childhood and longing to feel the love of my parents was overwhelming.
After years of fighting this invisible “Mother’s Day” monster, a time arrived to stop running and learn how to embrace my wounds. Stepping into the "now" and leaving the past behind was extremely difficult and very painful, but I was ready to see beyond my broken spirit ... ready to cleanse myself of renegade emotions and ready to release negative thoughts, feelings, and energy. It was time to broaden my "Sacred Point of View," invite hope back in, and begin living every day as a celebration.
The first sound a child hears is the sound of a mother's heartbeat. Here, encased in the safety and comfort of Mother's womb, a child experiences a sense of security and belonging. Through the miracle of birth, the child makes her/his appearance into the world, vulnerable and eager to please. The landscape of love varies over the years, but a Mother’s love has a power unlike anything on Earth. Her efforts, her time, and her devotion become the core of a child’s foundation.
For years I struggled in my search for love, desperately wanting to feel love and be nurtured. Constantly seeking a place of refuge, my imagination would carry me off to places unknown, places where I was cared for and protected, not beaten or violated. At the age of four, the “first” of three unexpected gifts arrived … the manifestation of "clear seeing," followed by "clairaudience", and then I was visited by a Spirit Being. To my eyes as a child, she was the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I had ever seen. In the real world, though I wandered about lost and unaware of my brokenness, when she scooped me up I felt safe and loved.
I began writing when I was quite young, and a journal became my best friend as I purged myself, scribbling notes, drawing pictures, and filling pages, usually stained with tears and sometimes blood. A few weeks ago, while rummaging through my "box of memories," I came across my first journal. Spirit nudged me to return to the past for a moment, and as I reread my words it dawned on me that perhaps they would offer comfort and hope to another.
Spiritual Journey Entries:
April 2nd, 1949
"I hear the sound of footsteps, if I hold my breath and lay real still, he won't know I am here."
April 3rd, 1949
He found me and hurt me but I didn't cry cause she carried me away.
September 7th, 1949
There is no place to hide, no place to run. I can't stop the sound of his belt snapping even when I cover my ears but if I disappear, would I ever see her again?
October 7th, 1950
Tonight, I had trouble breathing when he covered my mouth with his hand. He tells me I'm bad, no good, evil but she says I am a being of love.
November 30th, 1952
Mom won't listen and I feel sold out and betrayed. There is a huge hard boulder inside me. I think its made of ice, because my heart feels cold. Mom says I deserve what I get. She brought the eagle to soar with us tonight.
January 2nd, 1954
I was 15 minutes late so he punched my face and knocked out my front tooth. He swung a second time but I ducked. His fist went through the bedroom door, but I stood up to him. Didn't shed a tear and that made him very angry. She tells me I am a young warrior. I like the sound of that.
May 11th, 1954
I wonder what I have done to be discarded and thrown away by those entrusted to care for me? The answer remains a mystery to me, yet even though I can't make sense of it all, I feel more hope and less struggle these days. Spirit keeps repeating, "it is time to embark on your journey to wholeness," but how I wonder. She promises I will not be alone.
And so it was for many years, until one day the “Dreamer of Visionary” returned, reminding me of things to come. And he breathed aliveness back into my spirit, rekindling the Eternal Flame of my human quest. “It is time,” Spirit whispered. And I knew ... it was time.
Through raging winds and blinding blizzards, I endured the storm, and the snow around my heart slowly began to melt the war that dwelt within. No longer frightened, I was ready to accept my life-journey and reclaim the vision given to me many years ago. I could feel the mounds of frozen dreams being released, melting away the anger and fear as I began the processes of surrender and healing.
With determination, a slow transformation was set in motion, bringing the knowledge that "everything in life has a purpose that eventually leads us to the sacred. I believe that was the beginning of my rite of passage ... from victim to survivor.
From the ruins of childhood where a garden of nettles grew, a budding flower was unfurling. Out of the ashes of disappointment and confusion, inner peace was rising. It seemed to arrive as soon as I was willing to accept the reality of what was, without blaming or judging anyone any longer. An incredible calmness enveloped me, even in the midst of all that heartache and turmoil. Somehow I knew I had succeeded in reaching the point of no return. Wisdom tells me that, had I not been a child of sorrow, I would never have found the pathway to heal the shadows and discover my destiny.
For a time, I struggled to understand who my mother was and why she stood by aware of what was happening, but the circle of healing was teaching me well. Ultimately, I discovered, it was not understanding I needed to learn but how to accept and forgive.
There will always be a sense of loss, but a shift in my perception sparked the spirit of a woman to awaken. Trials and challenges, detours and enlightenments along the way have led me to realize that all that I am is because of who I was. For that, I say, “Thank you, Mom, and even though Creator chose to call you home, I hope you can read the words that fill my heart ... thank you for my life, and I wish you a very happy Mother’s Day!
A Final Note:
Mothers (and fathers, too) play an intricate role in our lives, but the outcome belongs to us. No matter what has gone before, in the end we are each responsible for whom we choose to become. It’s about choice, not blame!
Copyright © 2004 Lotusbud
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