Have you ever blamed someone else for what was happening in your life? How long did you hold the grudge, or worse, how long did you hold that person hostage for all they supposedly did to you?
There are no boundaries in blame. The door is wide open.
Last night I spoke with my parents after sending them a photo of my new look. I told myself it was because I wanted them to recognize me at the airport or even to soften the blow of judgement when they saw me for the first time in nearly a year. Something else was running inside me though, something I thought had disappeared long, long ago.
They didn’t criticize, they didn’t say anything negative at all, yet I could tell they didn’t like it. Even you’d be able to hear it their voices from the silence and carefully crafted words.
The emptiness didn’t seem to stir up much in me. I certainly didn’t feel anything in the moment, though later I had an extensive and defensive conversation in my mind about this off and on through the night. I missed a whole lot of sleep again because of this internal churning which turned into a fight for my well-being.
Mostly I say I’m not concerned about what my family thinks of me anymore, yet something surfaced from the deep yesterday in that conversation! Again, my feelings weren’t hurt, yet there was something in this for me that I couldn’t quite grasp.
So as I lay in my bed, thinking, thinking, thinking, I became resentful of their hold on me. Why don’t they just love me no matter what? Why are they so critical of my appearance? I wanted to blame them for being judgmental and in the process, I threw in a few choice situations I’d conveniently remembered from my younger days. They were really juicy and got me riled up even more.
For a long time, I lay there fuming and praying, asking desperately for some acceptance for my aging parents. Finally after much angst, I realized that I was acting like a little girl who wanted acceptance from her parents. I had allowed every bit of my self-esteem, maturity and confidence to disintegrate as I handed over my power to my parents.
No wonder I have no boundaries with them! I still want an infusion!
This state of beingness followed me well into today. I lost my creativity, became apathetic and wasn’t able to write a thing, or finish anything on my business “to do” list. I was so totally distracted, I could only accomplish the very least important job, making copies of my website. Yawn.
In between loading paper and setting up the print function I pounded on my belly for 3 hours! I’d lost inspiration about my work, eventually walking into the dentist’s office this afternoon feeling grumpy, covertly demanding and introverted.
Meanwhile, little did I know, the late night realization about making my parents responsible for my self-worth; the shift of calling in acceptance to myself instead; and tapping my belly to the rhythms and the drone of the copy machine; would shift the energy completely. At some point during my teeth cleaning, I was no longer morose.
I didn’t connect the dots until I returned home to find a message from my Mother apologizing for being blunt and telling me “no matter what you do to you hair, you’re still my beautiful daughter.” On any regular day, my Mom just doesn’t do those things, especially after the fact. The timing of her call was pretty precisely linked to the time I was starting to feel lighter again and more interactive with the dental hygienist.
You might say, “well why couldn’t you feel better before the call or without it completely?” In a way I hear your query, and of course that’s an interesting perspective, yet that’s not really the way it worked in this instance.
The real healing came in the middle of the night when I turned my mind around and asked myself for self-acceptance. The tables turned even more when I realized I was asking from God and my parents what I had never been willing to give to myself. Sometimes that level of enmity and attack wreaks havoc on the body and the presence of body pain creates even more emotional pain and mental negativity. It goes both ways.
My body took several hours to follow through with the healing and when it finally did, my Mother was able to call me. So, you see, it wasn’t her call that changed me, it was my final release of the bindings that helped her to call me. I no longer needed that from her so she was available to give me exactly what I wanted. What an interesting way to learn about boundaries and acceptance!
As Thou Lovest.
