In some movie I watched as a child, there was a mirror that would show you your true self. It would drive most people mad, because they could not handle what they saw. Psychology tells us that mentally healthy people view the world through rose colored glasses – we live in an illusion of seeing ourselves and the world in an overly positive way. Deepak Chopra tells us, in our soul relationships, that the one we love is a mirror. If we don’t like what is being reflected to us, we should change ourselves, not break the mirror.
I have had a heck of a week. Honestly, it has been a heck of a year, but that is what 2013 is about. It is a year about release and clearing. A total life makeover. I have “lost” or ended a marriage, a deeply loving spiritual partnership, my job – which is safety and security for me. I put down two cats that have been with me for 15 years in the space of 4 days. I have let go of some people that I kept trying to have in my life and that isn’t necessary. I have lost significant amounts of weight, and said good bye to some old pain I have carried in me for decades. So, it might be ok that I get grumpy now and then as I retool myself to be more present in soul than ego.
Except its not. Yesterday, I was struggling with the grief of preparing to put my second cat down. My daughter and I headed to the grocery store to get some Yop for her lunch bag, and she wanted to bring a tiny plastic toy with her. I said we shouldn’t because last time we lost the tiny toy three times in the store. She showed me it was too big to fall through the shopping cart and promised to take care of it. I agreed.
My daughter is as close to the perfect child as I can imagine. She is a wise soul, and she says things that are frankly impossible for her to know except through soul. I love her deeply and cannot believe how blessed I am to have this soul partnership with her. Which is why what happened yesterday kills me.
When we started shopping, within a minute she broke her toy bird’s wings, and was crying non stop. I looked at it, and realized I could fix it at home and told her so. She perked up and we had a great shopping trip. She loves scanning the items at the checkout so she did that. We loaded the groceries in the car, and I took the cart back to the drop off site. I could hear her pounding on the glass window as I walked back – what was wrong? I opened the door to a screaming child. “My bird is in the cup holder of the cart!” And here is where I am ashamed: I lost my temper and yelled at her. Not just a little – I told her this was all because she didn’t listen to me and that she always wants her own way no matter what, and here are the consequences. She was crying, I was crying.
We talked it though and hugged within about 5 minutes. And then she said “Mommy, can I ask you something? Can you promise to never make me feel unloved again?” I began crying uncontrollably. And you know what? I couldn’t make that promise. I knew I would break it. And now how do I live with that?
There is no way that I find that acceptable. I did a ho’oponopono (deep forgiveness) exercise last Monday, and one thing that surfaced is how deep my anger is inside me. And I don’t know why. I cannot tell you the source. I cannot tell you the triggers. But it is the anger that means I cannot promise my daughter that she will not feel unloved by her mother. And that must change. Now.
I know that in this case, I was feeling helpless around my animals. The second cat suffered greatly this weekend as we waited for the euthanasia appointment, and there was nothing I could do. I had no support, as it was just me and my daughter this weekend. I was feeling sorry for myself. And when my daughter was suffering around her toy, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t stop any of the suffering. I reverted to many old patterns.
The thing I aspire to was to stop, accept what is, and find the yoga in it. I could not get myself to that place. I started searching wildly outside of myself for a solution, for a reminder. I went to church, which helped somewhat, but my little one can’t handle church and so I had to leave half way through.
I think it starts by looking my daughter in the eyes, and promising her I will never make her feel unloved again. Then looking myself in the eyes and making the same promise.