Words to live by.

And I do.

here's what I struggle with...

In the wishing world of knowing I can't really ever reach enlightenment, but understanding that living life in love with the world and all the people in it, with childlike wonder and amazement, at the very least gets me close...the thing I struggle with is how to reconcile the desire, intention, purpose of living my life with non-attachment and no expectations and in the present moment as much as possible, while walking in love and peace and gratitude with the sometimes very real need to need. Yep, the need, to need. 

Neediness in general, I have always found quite unattractive both in myself and in others.  Everyone wants to be needed and likes being needed....I don't mean that kind - I mean the clingy, weird, psycho-needy thing that a lot of people do when they feel faced with imminent loss or pain.  That kind of needy is no bueno.

But the every so often, pretty rare actually, time when I actually just want, nay NEED to be heard, and felt, and held (in the literal sense) because sometimes life really does just overwhelm...I don't know how to do it.  How to ask for it.  How to get there. 

I wonder too if my "kumbaya, love is my religion, live in the moment, non attachment, no expectation" thing really boils down to a positive spin on my well conditioned sense of unworthiness.  You know about unworthiness, don't you?  I actually hope you don't, but I suspect many of you do.

Unworthiness....that destructive little voice that really is an enormous roar that lives inside some of us (me) that shout-whispers "don't ask for love....you can't...you aren't worthy."  Now, I realize this statement is utterly ridiculous.  Wrong.  Backwards.  The opposite of what is true and good and the path I need to be on. 

Unworthiness.  That thing I learned as a child trying to earn the love of my parents. That thing I feel when I look in the mirror and wish there was a prettier face staring back at me.  A better figure...a smarter brain...a more efficient athlete...you know the drill...

Unworthiness.  That unholy beast who dogs me relentlessly and sits on my shoulder filling my head with the kinds of soul crippling bullshit that I for a split second (or a few days) will buy into as I struggle to figure out exactly why I should be worthy of the things I want - or love - or need - or desire - crave, long for, thirst for, yearn for...

And then I remember. To breathe.  To remember.  To thank mother nature, god, the universe, the stars, my beautiful soul friends of whom there are few, but among those few - the truest and best out there. I struggle at these times because then I have to earnestly and sincerely put into practice those things that I say everyday to everyone else.  Forgive yourself, M.  Love yourself. Let it go.  Let it be.  Accept.  Love.  Just love. 

It is all about vulnerability.  We have taught ourselves and our offspring that being vulnerable is a sign of weakness.  That it is something to hide.  Worse, yet - something to be ashamed of.  I'm here to tell you, and I am still learning this myself...it isn't weakness.  Vulnerability is courage. It is emotional risk. It is the key to stepping beyond and into creativity and love and into the open wide world of possibility.  We have to put ourselves out there to get there, if you get my drift.

Shame is like fear, and you know I say fear is a "motherfucker" pardon the words. I heard someone say recently that shame is the swampland of the soul.  Very true. Shame goes along with unworthiness.  Add fear to this cocktail and you have a trifecta of personal spiritual disaster. We are conditioned to fear. To feel shame. To feel unworthy. To feel like we are not enough.  This, THIS is what I so passionately want to help everyone to start to change and to realize that we ARE enough. You are.  You are worthy.  The fear can't hold you prisoner if you choose love. I don't have a magic pill for it, but I know with commitment to yourself, to love yourself, to forgive yourself, *(yes - my ever present iterations)...and keeping a little smile inside yourself all the time as you walk through the world goes so far towards making this all possible.  Imagine what wonderful people we can create in ourselves and in our children when we make a conscious choice and habit of walking this way.  Walking in self love and appreciation for our gifts and for the gift of life and the beautiful people around us?

Once more....Love, people.  Just.  Love.  It's like a mantra to me...as is "it's not selfish, it's sanctuary"...
When times get rough, (and believe me, they WILL) when I feel myself vibrating at below sea level and standing outside watching myself I have to remember, again, to breathe.  And I tell myself that I'm writing my story right along side Destiny. She may have ideas of her own, and really, all I want to do is help her saddle the horse and ride with her every day.

So...I'm struggling...and I'm asking myself to go easy on me...and to give me space to be, and to breathe and to figure out my path and the courage to just keep walking it - even if wishy washy self doubt and unworthiness knocks on my brow door.  When that happens, I swing the door wide open and give that self doubt a great big hug, tell it I love it, and then get on with my work as a human. Loving and forgiving myself...you wanna know why? I'll tell you.  Because I am worthy.  And you?  You are too.  Worthy. Loved. and it's time you believe.  I'll help you.  And you can help me.  That's really how this thing works.

And really, it is not selfish. It is sanctuary. I quite like that turn of phrase.  If I accomplish nothing else in this world, I hope I can convince at least one of you that it really is not only OK to love yourself, it is primary.  It is the first step to everything else. Love.  Just love.

• ‎"Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.  Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity." ~ Pema Chodron

Fact check update/it's never too late for you. Choose love.

With respect to my previous post, and for matters of integrity ....I spoke with my sister today who was very emotional and hoping to go by my dad's place just to look around and find some closure for the pain she carries around. I asked her specifically and pointedly if my dad had sexually abused her. Her reply was that he often got fresh and kissed her in a non daughterly way, and maybe did some groping, but not actual sex.  From where I sit, that is still wrong and abuse of a child's trust, innocence  and ultimately ability to feel safe.

She then informed me that the pain she carries with her is the pain from watching my dad beat the hell out of her mom while she (my sister) watched and screamed. No child. No person should ever have to witness that.

I felt it important to correct the account from the last blog after speaking with her.

It is never, ever for even a nano-second ok to ever inflict adult situations onto children or teenagers in any circumstance. It is vile. Wrong. And permanently damaging. There is no poor judgment or moment of weakness...it is wrong and it is grand larceny of that child's ability to ever feel safe. To trust. It is evil. And I do not care what the cultural norms are.

More to come on child marriages that seem to be acceptable in many parts of the world. Even our own USA, so don't point your fingers till you've done some research. There's plenty of child sex slave trade going on in America. Yes. In America.

It is also never, ever ok to physically, emotionally, mentally or otherwise abuse your spouse or any other human being. Regardless of the gender.  Ever.

So. I'm sorry. So sorry, sister, for the pain and innocence stolen. And for the pain you watched your mother go through and the helplessness that left you with. Like i said, no child, no person should have to endure that. I so hope you find the peace you seek and that you take comfort in the loving and beautiful family you have made for yourself.

Love. If we all just came from a place of love, and peace...how much more beautiful this world could be.

You have a choice. We all do. And every moment you spend allowing yourself to be abused or abusing someone else is a choice that wastes precious life force and opportunity. It dishonors the gift we have before us.

I know. I used to be a victim. Fuck that. There's a great big beautiful world out there and it is full of amazing people and I refuse to allow any any pain or experience from my past, no matter how horrific, to rob me of my love affair with this world.

Decide today. Change today. Stop today. Life is way too goddamn short. Taste that strawberry of life and smear it all over your face.  Get the seeds in your teeth.  Live.  And love.  And mean it.  And if the situation you are in doesn't allow for acceptance and for you to be the best you possible? Change it.  Or leave it. Make it count. Do it for you and for all the beauty YOU can bring about in the world. You're worth that. It's not selfish. It's sanctuary. I'm not kidding.

I believe in you. Believe in yourself. Love yourself. Forgive yourself.

Love. Just. Love.

Write your story the way YOU want it to read.

Maybe your childhood sucked. Get over it. Mine did too. Don't be a victim. Become a champion. Become your own champion or someone else's. Or both. But... Let. It. Go. Your victim story. Your perpetrator mentality. Whichever it is. You may well be the only one standing in your way. You are the only one who can change your life. And I believe when you decide to choose to change, the universe and loving, helpful people will come to your side. It works that way. Works the opposite too. Choose light. Choose love. End the story that you think you're trapped in. You are only trapped in your mind.

Ok. Enough preaching for today.

from the mud, the lotus will rise...



...As my journey, my own personal hajj continues and I close the father chapter in my life, I am growing ever more amazed at the existence of my own sanity.  Perhaps it is only a version of sanity, but life feels pretty good to me. 

I am sorry to say that I ran into drama I didn't anticipate when I arrived stateside last Friday.  Once I landed, I called the funeral home to be sure they had whatever they needed and to find out what they needed from me since I had been flying  for 20 hours and unreachable by phone. Imagine my surprise when they said they'd never heard of him.

Never heard of him?  Nope.  No idea who he was.  So I called the hospital to ask what was up. They let me know that my "brother" Kenny had cockblocked me (I've taken to calling it that, I'm not sure why...) from having my father's remains taken to the funeral home for cremation. This was unexpected since I don't have a brother named Kenny.  I do have a stepbrother named Kenny that I don't know and that my father didn't care for and who I had not seen in over a decade.  So....I asked the hospital administrator why they did not send my dad on to the crematorium as previously requested...They said Kenny wanted to meet me at the hospital so we could sit and make decisions together. I promptly informed them that Kenny and I were not related and more importantly, that Kenny and my father were not related and never cared for each other. So, they immediately arranged for my dad to go to the funeral home as previously instructed. Drama over, right? Riiiiight.....not so much.

 

 

Later Friday night, Kenny calls to let me know he is in Asheville and ready to get together. (I SO wish I could convey his Rockingham, NC southern accent for you as I write)...I told him thank you and asked why he had stopped my dad's body from going to the funeral home.  He assured me he had no intention to interfere. (mmkay, so what was that?) I let him know that I was sorry he had driven to Asheville, but I wasn't there yet and that I had no idea what I would be walking in to when I did arrive and had no idea what condition I would find my dad's little 30+ year old trailer in and that I needed (planned) to do it alone as I didn't know what I might find, how I might react, and just needed to process things on my own rather than have a witness there with me. He hung up on me at that point and I went on about my night, hoping it was over. I'm oddly naive sometimes.  I did check in with my stepsister who is his blood sister (they are my late stepmom's kids) ...and she said to be very wary of him as he was a drug addict and nothing but trouble and that she and her other brother hadn't talked to him in years. Right about here is the time I thought I might start to lose my zen...

Cut to Sunday night before my drive to Asheville and I got a voicemail from Kenny. It was very disturbing and threatening. (Not the much preferred non-violent communication I have come to love and embrace since leaving the biological family fold so many years ago).  It's funny how quickly you can snap back to a reactionary place that you were conditioned to go to at times like this.

His message (again, I wish you could hear it in its authentic southern flavor - think "Larry the Cable Guy") went a little something like this.

"Mishayel, this is Kinney....Im'll call me some lawyers tomorrow mornin' and see what my raights up thar are. Whatever yew and yer "deddy" had planned...it ain't gone work, baby"...you'll learn not to be a bitch, and Im'll show yew just what I can be."  ??? What? Are? You? Talking? About?   He did end the call with a really sincere "you have a good day now" which I thought was a lovely touch. This was definitely the point at which I thought my zen was about to leave me and I was going to be sucked back into the vortex of darkness from which I came.  (sounds so ominous, doesn't it?)   For the record, my dad didn't have any money, he lived in the same single wide trailer that he had traveled from Texas in over 30 years ago, he barely had any furniture in it and was not the best housekeeper.  I found out exactly how bad a few hours later when I saw it, but I'll get to that later.

I took a deep breath and called Kenny from the road yesterday morning from a place of compassion and with a hope to understand where he was coming from.  I told him that his voicemail had really confused me and asked him if he was ok.  He was really, really angry, and actually reminded me of my father as his voice cracked and he let it all out.  I let him give me all of his pain and his anger from his mother's death back in 2003 and  just let him talk. He went around in circles...said a few disparaging things about me which didn't bother me at all because I knew he wasn't talking about me - or if he was, he didn't know me enough to have formed such an opinion. We have never known each other or spent any time together, and are pretty much strangers.

When he was finished I told him I was really sorry for his pain. That it sounded like he had carried that around for awhile. I told him again that his voicemail had confused me as I didn't quite understand what he needed a lawyer for as my dad didn't have anything. Then I assured him that if I found anything of his mother's or any instructions from her that pertained to him that I would absolutely make sure he got it. (thanks for the words Kate!)  I also told him that I really needed to do this by myself because of my own unresolved issues with my dad and the only way to have authentic reactions to it, and to let myself feel whatever I needed to feel, was to do it on my own so I could just be whatever I needed to be and react however I needed to react and to do it in as drama free a manner as possible. He told me I was being selfish and needed to put myself aside and understand that he needed to be there to help me. I told him again that I appreciated his intentions, but that I was doing it alone. He didn't really understand, but he let it go eventually.

 

 

Then, he said something I truly didn't expect. He started to ramble, well, his whole conversation was a rant and ramble about how awful my dad was and how much destruction he had created in the lives of many people (something I could not deny)...but then he revealed something about my dad that I was not aware of but when he spoke the words, I knew they were true. First he told me he knew my dad had beaten his mom....I knew this because he had battered my mother as well and she had mentioned he did the same thing to my stepmom, which makes sense of course. An abuser is an abuser, right? Then the shocker....he told me his sister, the one that my dad raised,  had a little breakdown a few years back and had let her husband and both her brothers know that my father had molested her as a child. She lived with him from the time she was 7 or 8 years old till she left home to get married.  I let those words sink in. My father molested my stepsister. No wonder she didn't visit him in the hospital. Fuck.

Yet, the minute he said it, I knew it was true. It pulled so many pieces of the puzzle together. Jealousy from my stepmom towards me. Warnings to me and my sister to never to go near his bedroom when he was back there. The unnatural hate my father had for the man my sister married, because he is a jolly, lovely guy.  It all made sense.  My dad's own father, (my grandfather) molested his own daughter (my aunt) when they were kids...and my granddad then did the same with all of the female grandchildren in my family...so I understood right away where my dad had learned this behavior.

 

But do you know what my immediate reaction, my gut feeling to hearing this news was? It surprised the hell out of me. But I realized that for my whole life, my father kept me at arms length, rejected, neglected, pushed me away, refused to have a relationship with me, to spend time with me, refused to let me move in with him and my stepmom when my own mother put a knife to my throat as a teenager...BECAUSE he LOVED me and did not want to do this to me. He must have known that he would and that it was a sickness and he wanted to keep me free of it. And that somehow made everything make sense in a way that it never had before.  Twisted? Yes.  But it did make sense, in an upside down, crack is whack, holy shit kind of way.

You may think I am crazy to share this (I'm not)...or you may feel sorry for me (don't)...or you may find yourself angry after reading this or find me deluded.  I'm not. I'm grateful.  Yes, that's right. Grateful.  Filled with gratitude.  Grateful to be alive.  Happy, no ecstatic to live the life that I live.  Still wildly in love with the world.  Maybe still a bit surprised at my sanity.  Sanity is subjective anyway, probably.

All I know is that for as long as I can remember, I have known that in spite of the ridiculously dysfunctional bunch I grew up with and around, that there are truly beautiful, loving, giving, warm and wonderful people on this planet and that I wanted to know them.  To be with them.  To find them, I had to get through my own struggles for years of course, as I was well conditioned to feel unworthy and separate from them.  For those of you I hurt along the way as I tried to find my way, (Richard and Scott) - I'm so deeply sorry.  Thank you for loving me, marrying me and for doing the best you could.  I had to figure it out on my own.   I wish you both love and peace and trust that you have found that in your lives since our divorce.  I know that you have.  And for that too, I am grateful.  You are both amazing, gorgeous, loving, kind, good, and fantastic men that I was incredibly lucky to share some of my life with.  Thank you, both.

But, the truth is - and it really is this simple - we are all connected.  And whatever you walk in, light or dark...your connection to others who are like you will increase and strengthen.  And because I know I have the choice to walk in light and beauty and wonder, that is where I live and love and will stay.

The crazytown I grew up in definitely gives me pause and I have worked hard to stay out of it and away from it...and you can probably see why re-entering it causes me to hold my breath and why I feel like I am drowning and fear that it will swallow me and that maybe I won't be able to get back to the peaceful and loving place I want to be in. But I learned something else on this journey...I've learned  that I do not belong in the darkness of my biological family...and that they can't hurt me anymore. Not ever.

And yesterday, when I met Mike, the big, burly, long haired and bearded motorcycle repair shop owner who was one of my dad's drinking buddies and he introduced me to a few more of his buddies in his shop - that my dad had made friends who considered him family and who thought he was a kind and good man.  They kept hugging me and telling me stories and telling me how sorry they were for my loss.  They know someone I don't know.  And I am truly grateful to have met them and to know that he had them in his life and that they knew a man who was different than the father I knew.  And I am grateful to have met them and for them to have introduced me to a new memory. 

You know, I really do love my little kumbaya existence.  And my cosmic tribe of family and people I love all over the world.  I don't know how I got to be so lucky, but it sure is beautiful.  If you're not doing what you love and being who you love and feeling gratitude for the mere gift of being alive...I hope you will find a way to get to that place.  It's breathtaking here. Join me?

Love and light...peace and gratitude... Ma'salaama, my friends.

Dear Dysfunction, I broke up with you years ago...

...it would be lovely if you would release me and find yourself a little bit of peace and happiness.

So, I'm at home in Williamsburg with my wonderful tribe of cosmic kin. It's been the most marvelous unplanned weekend in which I have been able to cram a whole lot of living and extraordinary time with my people I love.  Tonight I am filled with gratitude for the unexpected trip and the opportunity to spend time with Holly and Kate for their birthdays, to curl up on the couch and watch Glee with my Abby...to share some sushi for breakfast with Jake...to spend a great night out with Letty, Holly, Ricky, Christine and Mary...to enjoy several beautiful long bikerides with Holls and Mary...to enjoy the gorgeous fall weather that can be found in Virginia this time of year...so very grateful.

But, the lovefest and whirlwind of fun stops tonight and the rollercoaster of undealt with emotions, other people's baggage and the very potent reminder of exactly why I chose a long time ago to walk into the healthy light and away from the crazy, twisted darkness that my biological family and their bizarro offspring seems enmeshed in begins...I realize that is neither kind, nor zen, but I'm a little less than peace, love and happiness at the moment.

Tomorrow will consist of a 7 hour drive to Asheville to meet with the funeral home to sign some papers before they can issue a death certifcate, which the doctor who pronounced him dead has 5 days to sign...only once it is signed can they cremate my dad, so I will be long gone and back in Abu Dhabi before any of that can happen.  After the funeral home, I'll be heading to my dad's tiny old nicotine drenched single wide trailer, which I understand is infested with fleas...and which he has not kept clean...for years to dig through the very little that he had for the purpose of seeing if any of his clothes or furniture are salvagable enough to donate to the DAV...figure out if I can donate his vehicle without the title in my name or if getting such paperwork is doable within the 48 hour window I will have there.

While going through any records, if there are any, that my father may have left behind and making sure his utilities and internet are turned off, and that anyone he has debts with is notified of his passing...making sure his cat gets adopted and trying not to hope for some proof of unswerving love for his only child will be present somehow in pictures or in letter form...(pathetic, right? I know...I am taking baby steps and hoping for a return to zen soon)...I hope to reach some sort of peace and release and letting go of the relationship that has help me prisoner for a lifetime.

Angst, fear, not having idea what I am walking in to...they are threatening to overtake me. I mustn't let them.

"I must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.  Where the fear is gone there will be nothing.  Only I will remain."  (Frank Herbert - Dune) Great book, by the way, even if you don't like Sci-Fi - I recommend it!

Until it's right, it's wrong...

in the midst of upside-down dysfunctional bizarro-world...

...reaching for light and peace and love...in the hopes that it will eradicate the dark cloud of irrationality and insanity that seeks to uproot my zen.  I pray that I am successful.

Go sell crazy somewhere else...we're all full up here. (Jack Nicholson).  But really, if you wouldn't mind, hop on the peace train and ride off to another land, won't you please?

just, breathe...and rise from the ashes, phoenix.