Cari-bein'

Letting Go of a Belief

There's a beautiful white heron sitting atop a large tree that's just across the pond from us. It's too far away for my camera to capture it, but it's giving me a sense of peace and calm right now just by looking at it. I've just finished doing some stretching (because I've been doing nothing for my physical self lately); there's a lemon verbena and lavender candle burning across the room; I've got a steaming mug of vanilla nut decaf at my side; the sky is filled with huge white and gray clouds moving west to east against a patchy blue background; and the green of the trees and hillside and grass that fills most of our view looks almost alive after a very heavy shower.

The heron flew away, for just a moment, and then returned to a different perch in the tree. He's facing east--doing his own salutation to the sun. A good visual cue for me this morning: it's okay to veer off path, as long as I gently return. Because I've been way off my path lately, and if ever there was a time when I needed to be right the hell on it, it's now.

I'm very grateful that my employer is out of town for 10 days, so that I can have a break from all of that drama, or at least from the bottled-up seething resentment (healthy!) that he brings up for me. But, man oh man, is it ever draining to sit in that funky-ass, physically uncomfortable office faced with almost nothing to do all day. Energy begets energy, and not expending any the last few workdays has made me limp. One good thing (for an insomniac like me): I've been sleeping a lot. But I know that's just the depression (about my Dad's condition) at play. By 6:30, it feels like 10:00, and I'm conking out on the couch. I've had evening naps on the couch every night this week.

The condo's a mess--not a horrible mess, but in dire need of a good cleaning and some serious clutter clean-up. That's the last thing I feel like doing--and probably one of the first things I need to take care of, because the energy I expend avoiding it and feeling burdened by it can (and needs to be) put to much better use.

When I rose about 7 am, my first thought walking across the room and looking outside was, "Maybe I'll squeeze in a swim and walk at the beach" (before boyfriend's afternoon gig). Just then, the skies opened and unleashed a deluge. The forecast is for rain off and on all weekend, but it's quite warm. I'll probably go to the blues show this afternoon. It's on one of our favorite beaches. He'll be protected from the rain onstage, and I don't care how bedraggled I get. He'll be heading to the Ritz to play a wedding in the early evening, so I'll have lots of solo time to freshen up and maybe take a long soak in the tub. Might as well just get down and dirty and soggy and sandy...and funky.

I thought about meditation this morning--for myself and for my father. I definitely need to get back to it. When "The Relaxation Response" was first out in paperback, I bought a copy for my Dad. It was at the beginning of his journey with heart disease, but I don't think he ever tried meditating. My father is all about M.D.'s--alternative therapies need not apply. I so wish that wasn't the case. I thought of that book again this morning and wondered if I reminded him that it was written by an M.D. if maybe he'd give meditation a second thought all these decades later. Because I know (and he's said) that he's in a lot of fear right now, and I would love for him to do anything to try to ease those fears to assist him as he undergoes the cancer screening scan on Monday and meets with his oncologist on Tuesday. All I can do is put it out there...and accept that he's probably not going to change and be open to anything that he sees as outside the realm of the AMA. After all, this is the man who chooses surgery (continual angioplasties) over a simple daily walking routine. (He refuses to exercise even though his cardiologist insists on it. He also continues to drink like a fish which is also a big, bad no-no.)

I have to accept that this is his journey. I can be there as best I can and make whatever suggestions I think might prove helpful, but I learned long ago that he's incredibly stubborn in his beliefs and narrow in his thinking. My father is controlled by fear, just in general, so any medical condition ratchets it up about 50-fold.

And of course the dreaded "C" word brings up fears for everyone. And for me, it brings up a lot of confusing and conflicting feelings, because my father and I have a complicated history. He's caused me enormous pain in my life, and sometimes continues to...and he's oblivious to most of it. As I was writing to my two stepsisters and one of my stepbrothers yesterday, I wondered what they would think if they knew that my goal with my Dad for the last 30 years has been to just eke my way up the scale to a place where I could at least share the perch they do with him. Because he thinks much more highly of them than he does of me. Of course, we're all overshadowed by the altar where my brother resides in my father's eyes. In most families, my brother (in the past anyway) would have been considered the black sheep. My father worships him. He says my brother is his best friend. I suppose that makes sense since they're so damn much alike. And if you knew our family's history, you'd think if anyone would be perched atop the estimation ladder, it would be me. Funny how that shit works.

This has been one helluva six months. First the employer develops a medical condition (and tries to elicit my sympathy because of it, which is why I was so enraged about what he did once he garnered it)...and then my Dad finds out he's got cancer. Okay, life, the lesson is crystal clear: by continuing to hold onto the anger and resentments that these two men bring up for me, I damage only msyelf. I'm only holding myself back.

I saw part of an "Oprah" show the other night and caught a moment when she and Bishop T.D. Jakes (boyfriend's favorite and he is good...watch him sometime and translate his words into whatever matches your own spiritual beliefs and you'll see what I mean) were talking about forgiveness. You know how you can go through life knowing stuff, but sometimes you need to hear it to remind yourself? It was one of those moments of clarity for me. Oprah was quoting someone (I don't know who, but I've heard her use this phrase before) that forgiveness is letting go of the belief that the past could be different. Letting go of the belief that the past could be different. And she explained that once she heard that definition, it changed everything she felt about forgiveness. Because until that time, she'd struggled with it. She said she'd thought it meant saying that it was okay that whatever it was had happened. And Bishop Jakes kept saying that the forgiveness process is not for the benefit of the person who commited the act, but the "victim." That by continuing to feel anger and resentment toward the person, we allow that person to control us. I know that, but goddamn sometimes it's hard to remember it in the heat of the (angry, resentful) moment. And the person I feel all that anger or resentment toward doesn't even feel the shit (I'm flaming out at them)! But by hanging onto it, I'm letting them control me--even though they don't know it! How fucked up is that?!

So that's my mantra for today, boys and girls: Let go of the belief that the past could have been different. I'm going to try it. I just might like the results.

posted by Marilyn @ 8:48 AM