Meltdowns and clarity

As agreed I revisited the fearless work again and one of the questions were – what are you afraid of would happen if you were true to yourself?

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To not be the play along girl any more has a price.

As agreed I revisited the fearless work again and one of the questions were  – what are you afraid of would happen if you were true to yourself?

In two seconds I could conclude everything I had really worried about has or is happening right now – being judged, not belong, chaos financially being between 2 systems and handling 1 dead person’s, loose face, loose a relationship – don’t think I need to go on. You got the picture.

So technically I can just F*** it and do it any way.

For the first time in my life I told someone I felt bullied.

Despite the complete shock of the other person, who clearly just thought they could do what they were doing without thinking, it was a big step for myself – both being vulnerable – but also to actually call something with its correct word.

Where I grew up you could not raise your voice, object or in any other way misbehave. Thinking about it now I was askling myself how that rule was put into play since I never heard or saw anyone object. Was that also bullying? Some type of silent threats or simply ignoring you to the point you didn’t exist unless you changed your attitude? I mean where is the borderline where you no longer correct or lead something, but is actually breaking something down? The classical tactics to undermine women without saying it loud.

I know both my grandma and my mother had regrets about this, but still they never broke the pattern. When I started school at 7 I had already stress symptoms on both teeth and eyes. At 23 my hair went white from one day to another. I remember the doctor telling me to spend more time in the stables…being a rider herself that was the best she could come up with.

My mother clearly suffered from this. My grandma I don’t know. I was so outside myself by the time I lived with her I must have been like a drilled puppy. My mother raged and threw porcelain, while I ducked and cried in silence.

So today I had my meltdown and my clarity. I still hate meltdowns though. Even when the air is cleared and things are fine. It is like loving new rain, but be scared of the thunder – you can’t have one without the other.

Maybe that’s it – as rodeo rider’s count their falling offs, the sales person his nos until the yes – maybe I should count my meltdowns and celebrate them as representing that I am one step closer to my new reality?

Today I will sleep well.

328 signals to go home.

OK and not OK

Not OK is that I have stopped to tolerate just about anything…

Today things have been both OK and not OK.

I am slowly , but surely, sorting out all papers related to my mother’s death. One thing per week is the speed we go by, but it feels ok. I can acknowledge that I am moving forward without being totally over-whelmed. So that is ok.

Not OK is that I have stopped to tolerate just about anything, which I used to do with an addicted parent and so on. My chaos and mental pain tolerance used to be way above any normal and sane person. That said this in-tolerance could be seen as a good sign – however my kids complain – and in particular 1 of them.

Even though I know I am doing the right thing it it is hard sometimes. I am an adult. This is my home. She is also an adult – at least on the paper – and this is suppose to be on equal terms and not any you-owe-it-to-me-I-can-do-what-I-want-terms…the temporary turmoil does bring me down from time to time.

I don’t mind failing or being vulnerable, but I want to feel that when I am at home I am safe and I can have peace of mind – and quiet. My sub concious has been so over-worked around my mother in so many years it is like I have to retrain my brain , that I don’t have to have all sensors on, all the time, all days of the week anymore.

Last year about this time I did some fearless training. That was how I started actually. Learning yoga and about my own fears and how to re-train. Best is to do it 3 times they say – so maybe it is time to do it again. That is my tomorrow.

Now we sit here – she and I – writing with our computers and sharing a chocolate. Peace at last. For the moment. Maybe it is not only me who needs to find a new way home.

329 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Graphic Mouse at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I am Malin and you call me George?

Maybe men identify with the suffering on the cross – however I am certain women cringe every time we see, hear or witness any harm done to any child, girl, woman, mother, grandma – physical OR verbal. We burn. That is the feeling we know.

Every morning I do some spiritual reading. ACIM (A Course In Miracles)most of the time.

And now I have a question to those who knows this better than me:

I can ground myself.

I can feel the earth under my feet and resonate with it.

I can co-create and all sort of amazing things fly through my mind.

I understand the emotional concept of the Father and Mother Earth.

I can feel the sense of all mighty protection and divine creativity and safety.

Every time there is an exercise where I have to meditate or think in the lines of “You are a Son of God”it slips through my fingers…

It feels like I am Malin and you call me George.

Why are we not Children of God? Or if I really want to dig deep – Daughters of God?

I fully comprehend and understand the concept of equality – but do we have to be in denial about diversity that makes every individual unique? So special?

I am not big on using the word God to begin with – even if I understand it – I am however big on feeling it and experiencing it.

Maybe men identify with the suffering on the cross – however I am certain women cringe every time we see, hear or witness any harm done to any child, girl, woman, mother, grandma – physical OR verbal. We burn. That is the feeling we know.

You may be my Brother, but I am your Sister. And we all belong together.

That is what I know.

You write Son. I read Daughter. You say George. I hear Malin.

Connecting my dots.

Is this off path?

331 signals home.

Image courtesy to Hyena reality at FreeDigitalPhotos.net