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More Clearing
Today has not been as productive as I had wanted on an external level, but I really needed the time to do some internal consolidation. So I spent a lot of time catching up with my friends on LJ, updating a recent filters poll, and tending this particular garden of my life.
Then I spent an hour or so lying on my bed reading Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, which I think many of you would find fascinating. And that too was good.
Now I'm helping my daughter get her room together. Specifically, I helped her get started on sorting her clothes and getting them up on her shelves. I'm afraid that when we were getting started I was very sharp with her about some things: finding one of my good walking socks in a pile behind her door, ditto a half-full bag of popcorn, and etc. I saw her face get more and more tight and sad, but I myself was too overwhelmed with frustration about the state of her room -- and my own contribution to her not being more orderly -- that I was not ready to back off.
Later, as we were working together, I did apologize. I told her what I just wrote above: that I was feeling overwhelmed too and it made me crabby, and I should not have been as sharp with her as I had, and I apologized. She smiled and hugged me and said, "That's okay."
I shook my head. "I'd like you to think about something. When someone apologizes, it feels like the right, nice thing to do to say 'It's okay.' But that makes it seem like something bad didn't really happen. Did you feel sad and hurt when I said those things to you earlier?" After a moment she nodded slowly. "If you say 'It's okay,' it's like pretending that it didn't hurt, and that dishonors yourself. It denies your hurt. If you say 'I forgive you,' you acknowledge that you were hurt but that you're willing to let it go." I saw her eyes begin to glaze over. "I'm starting to do grown-up babbling again, aren't I?"
"Kind of," she admitted.
"Do you understand what I'm saying? That I think it's important that you agree that you were hurt? That you respect yourself and honor yourself that way?"
Another pause, then she nodded, and we hugged again. "Thank you for forgiving me," I said.
Now she is working on her clothes, saying she's fine working on it herself, and I'm doing more clearing too, inside and out.
It's feeling good to be inward centered today.
I may choose to remain so this evening and tomorrow morning as well.
This may be a take-myself-out-to-dinner evening.
Sunday afternoon I'm going to return to the Meditation Circle I went to last week.
I need more time to journal, to do inner journeys, to just be quiet on my own.
And then there's groceries. . .
Then I spent an hour or so lying on my bed reading Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, which I think many of you would find fascinating. And that too was good.
Now I'm helping my daughter get her room together. Specifically, I helped her get started on sorting her clothes and getting them up on her shelves. I'm afraid that when we were getting started I was very sharp with her about some things: finding one of my good walking socks in a pile behind her door, ditto a half-full bag of popcorn, and etc. I saw her face get more and more tight and sad, but I myself was too overwhelmed with frustration about the state of her room -- and my own contribution to her not being more orderly -- that I was not ready to back off.
Later, as we were working together, I did apologize. I told her what I just wrote above: that I was feeling overwhelmed too and it made me crabby, and I should not have been as sharp with her as I had, and I apologized. She smiled and hugged me and said, "That's okay."
I shook my head. "I'd like you to think about something. When someone apologizes, it feels like the right, nice thing to do to say 'It's okay.' But that makes it seem like something bad didn't really happen. Did you feel sad and hurt when I said those things to you earlier?" After a moment she nodded slowly. "If you say 'It's okay,' it's like pretending that it didn't hurt, and that dishonors yourself. It denies your hurt. If you say 'I forgive you,' you acknowledge that you were hurt but that you're willing to let it go." I saw her eyes begin to glaze over. "I'm starting to do grown-up babbling again, aren't I?"
"Kind of," she admitted.
"Do you understand what I'm saying? That I think it's important that you agree that you were hurt? That you respect yourself and honor yourself that way?"
Another pause, then she nodded, and we hugged again. "Thank you for forgiving me," I said.
Now she is working on her clothes, saying she's fine working on it herself, and I'm doing more clearing too, inside and out.
It's feeling good to be inward centered today.
I may choose to remain so this evening and tomorrow morning as well.
This may be a take-myself-out-to-dinner evening.
Sunday afternoon I'm going to return to the Meditation Circle I went to last week.
I need more time to journal, to do inner journeys, to just be quiet on my own.
And then there's groceries. . .
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Thank you. I never believed I would be a very good mom, so consequently I try very hard to compensate for what I perceive as my natural shortcomings -- while trying to keep from overcompensating. (*sigh)
Winning the baby lottery has certainly helped too. My daughter is so easy to get along with, and has such a sweet spirit it makes life a lot easier.