Monday, Monday

I am as caught up at work as I can possibly be. It was nice to kinda just float today. Then I was challenged. I don't know if my challengers intended to be as harsh as they were, but they're just kids, and there is nothing wrong with having a new thought challenged.

It all came full circle though, and the moral to the story is that I am more free to live my life now than I have ever been. I know this isn't coming from a bad mom place. I gave up the last 20 years to make sure the two people I was entrusted with learned how to think for themselves. I think I did a good job, and I know I love them both. I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment when I see them succeed on their own. Now it is my turn to become all I aspire to.

I just don't know what to think of those Green Bay Packers this year. This game tonight is ridiculous. Las Vegas would almost be more interesting.

Well, I have read the letter to my mom a couple of times. I guess it is still just a work in progress. It really does sound quite angry. Funny thing is, the only time I feel that anger is when I think of the things she did to me. I really am not angry with her. At least I'm trying really hard not to be. I do feel a great deal of compassion for her. When I think about what she has been through, it is hard to think of her as the monster the child in me sees. Obviously, I haven't worked through it all yet. That is exactly why I can't have her in my life. I hope someday we both understand.

And so begins Thanksgiving week.

Getting Old

The question of the day is "so how does it feel to be the mother of two adult children?" I keep saying, doesn't feel any different to me. So my son turned 18, or as he put it, he has successfully completed 18 trips around the sun.

So today I did some real soul searching. I needed to really discover what I desire, and what I aspire to. Right now I am free. Well, yes, I will be taking care of him until graduation, but, free as I have been in my whole life. More than ever, I need to slow down and take things as they come.

It does no good to worry about being old and alone. If I give in to my desire not to be alone, I will become imprisioned by that desire. I have so many things that I aspire to, those things must come first. Those things will keep me free, and young.

It is a good moment to exist in. I am grateful for my new freedom.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

This letter has been a long time in the making and even longer overdue. It’s hard to know where to start, and I have no idea where it will end.

First I would like to say I love you, and I understand that your life was much more painful than mine. I understand what pain brought you to the place you are now and I do not hate you for any of the things I have suffered. You always did your best.

I guess I would just like to explain why I chose to cut you from my life, and why I have stayed away since.

I know you had no idea what I was talking about that day at Bruce’s ranch when I told you to take your house back and all I wanted in return was my life. I’m sure you thought I was just throwing a tantrum and that I would come around eventually. The thing is, I had already “come around”.

It finally happened when you bragged to Jay’s Mother-in-law that you had spanked a 3or 4-year-old Megan for urinating outside at Bruce’s Ranch. I couldn’t help but be angered by the fact that you had told me another story that day when I picked her up. At that time I thought even the verbal reprimand you confessed to was harsh! Yet, there you were, bragging about spanking her.

I vowed then to put an end to it. I wouldn’t let you abuse my children the way you abused me. Even then I didn’t fully realize how important this decision was to my own survival. I couldn’t stand up to you to protect myself, but I would stop you from hurting them. And so, I cut you out of our lives, and saved me in the process.

Since then, I have changed more than I knew I could. I do exist, an entity of my own, paths of my own choosing. I am proud of where I am and how I got here. Not much of who I am would meet with your expectations, and I am grateful not to have to try anymore.

When you called so many months ago to try to open a door, I did listen with an open mind. It didn’t take long to realize that nothing had changed. You still are not willing to take your part in this outcome. And that is fine, your life is yours. That also means that my life is mine. I need to stay on this path, and I can’t take you with me.

Then you called to brag about a visit from Damien Gonzales! It really wasn’t until that very moment that I completely understood, you never knew me at all. You only knew the person you wanted me to be, and I thank God I am not her. No, mother, it doesn’t surprise me at all that the boys I had sex with as a teen are coming around to see you now. You always made yourself available to them then, why would I (or they) think that would change?

As for my friends, you do not know them. You probably wouldn’t like them. They are good people with their own sets of beliefs and opinions and yours would clash. My new friends like me not for what I can do for them, but for who I am. I, me, the individual, am likeable. I think you will never know that about me. I think you will never know me. I don’t think you can. Maybe you never wanted to.

You really think Damien was the love of my life, don’t you. He was a 21 year old who wasn’t at all appreciated by women his own age, so he predated on 16 year olds. I was one of them. Maybe at the time I really thought I loved him. I do know that if my 16 year old daughter was seeing a 21 year old looser, I’d have none of it. I certainly wouldn’t have tasted the sample myself. Mother, the guys I slept with back then were all losers. Need proof? Look at where they are now! Love of my life? Proof of how little you really know me.

Even the event you regret most is a footnote to me. You have lamented many times about how horrible it was for you to blame me when my dog died. Mom, I knew at the time it wasn’t my fault. Nothing you said then made the matter any worse. Nothing you did at that moment was even much of a surprise.

The things you should regret are things you did when I was little. When I was developing as me, and all you could teach me was how worthless I was.Do you remember my first words? Momma, Daddy, pee pee, pot, puppy, and see. Who could forget how sweet I was when I said “Have a bite”, cracker, grandma, baby, bye bye, or Ah Shit? Yes and no are important and thank you. Gone, “where’s the car”, “go see grandma” are great, but don’t and stupid really are remarkable. I could even say “how about a drink of water?“ and Oh Christ, dirty bastard, beat it and shut up. I could say everyone’s name, but apparently I couldn’t say I love you, or pretty, or sweet, or happy, or good girl or good job.

And, how about that haircut you gave me in April of 1969? Do you remember that? I will never forget it. I remember that my long hair was the only thing that was special about me. You were sitting on the toilet and I stood in front of you while you combed it. It hurt, I said ouch, you got mad. You told me if it hurt so bad you would just cut it all off. You then proceeded to get the scissors and start cutting. I was sure I was going to be swallowed up into worthlessness, just like Kim.

I was just five, and had that nasty wetting problem, and peed my pants right there in front of the toilet. Obviously, that was absolutely unacceptable behavior on my part, because you grabbed the hair at the back of my head, threw me to the ground and rubbed my nose in my urine until my nose started to bleed into your precious rug. Then, of course, you were very sorry and showed me how you had only trimmed my hair and put the clippings in an envelope to put in my baby book. Thank you. Ah those wonderful childhood memories!

Like the time when I threw my cereal away into the garbage that was filled with dog-soiled newspaper. How dare I waste food! Luckily for me, you were there to force me to eat it out of the garbage until I threw up. Hmmm, maybe I was too sick to eat my cereal that morning after all!

Those are some of the things you did to me that hurt me. They are part of a large body of events that made me. There are many more, but these stick out. I realize that you were doing the best you knew how to do. I understand where the frustration and pain that took you there originated.

I just want you to understand that I am not punishing you for any of those things. Do you remember me telling you about the nightmares I used to have of Megan dying? They were constant, and terrifying. They stopped that day at Bruce’s ranch when I took my life back. It took a while, but I finally realized that I was the child dying in my dreams.

I have often wished that things between us were different, but that is just me being selfish and arrogant. You have your own life to live. I don’t have any right to expect you to change who you are, but that is exactly what would have to happen if I let you back in. Or I would have to forget all the things I have learned, I would have to forget me, and I can’t do that.

I wish you only the best. I hope you find happiness and peace in your life.

I do love you!

Your Daughter,

Cheri

Lonely Dreamer?

Is God Lonely?

This strange thought came to me during a meditation earlier this week. If it is true that there is only one God, and God is everything, then how could God not be lonely?

One response would be “that’s why he created us”! Have you ever created anything? I have painted pictures, baked and decorated amazing cakes, cooked wonderful spaghetti sauces and written lengthy and somewhat interesting essays. None of those things has ever eased any of the loneliness I have felt. They amused and amazed me, they entertained me, but they never eased my need for an equal to share them with.

If we are God’s creations, or God’s dream, or an extension of God in any way, then all we can do is amuse God. We cannot provide any real companionship to such an entity. Without an equal to share such accomplishments with, it must seem empty. What would be the purpose of existence?

What type of consciousness could exist as an entity totally unique and utterly alone? What kind of purpose would it have? What is our part in it? Are we misguided when we believe we have a higher purpose? Is this kind of loneliness unique to this human existence?

When I try to picture God I see a tremendous sea of energy, harmonious and balanced, filled with color and song. It is a place awash with all. All of the pain, all of the bliss, all of the happiness and sadness, all of the glory and nothing at all. But I feel no awareness of self. No awareness that anything is missing, because nothing is missing. Nothing is out of place. Everything is perfect and beautiful. Everything just is.

Is God Lonely?

Thank You

Experience the journey. Revel in the joy. The end and all the answers it brings will come as it should, regardless of our attempts to cheat.

Misguided Pupil

The past couple of weeks have been an exhaustive exercise of attempted discovery. You Immersed me in reading, and sent me on a journey of the soul. I experienced a great deal of bewilderment and trepidation at the attainment of your objective. But I sit here now, not at all convinced that I have gained anything for the experience. I almost feel as if your message is that enlightenment itself is the illusion, that it is born of arrogance and fear. I am more lost than ever.

I spent last Saturday reading Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. It was a recommended reading of a blog author you put in my path. In many ways, Quinn echoed a lot of the things I‘ve already heard. He authored his opinion of the bible’s tree of knowledge, and came to many of the same conclusions I had come to several years ago.

I really liked the way he offered up historical evidence. He suggests that it is our own devotion to our greatness that has put humans on a collision course with extinction. He did a really good job of showing me, the reader, how we have come to believe in that perceived greatness and what it is that continues to keep us from seeing truth. There wasn’t anything really all that new in it, however.

But there were weaknesses in this evidence, including his appraisal of the herders in the middle east as being different from the agriculturists. Is it not a global fact herders are at least as guilty of destroying the competition of their herds as agriculturalists are with their crops? The leavers he describes live completely off the land. They hunt and gather. They do not farm or herd. They follow the laws of nature. They are subject to survival of the fittest. Is that not the path to evolution?

I felt his most compelling weakness was his conclusion. In the end the message is that humans can turn it all around and become teachers to the animals who will evolve to understand good and evil. Is this not in direct conflict with what you have shown me? Is it not true that all forms of existence (all energy and matter) are of equal importance? All aspects of creation not of equal value? And I can’t help but wonder what knowledge we humans have that we should teach.

In the end, when a great argument is supported by weak evidence, the entire body must come into question. I have come to believe that we know absolutely nothing about anything. The Earth will undoubtedly survive the human race. It will evolve into another form, again, but it will survive. The earth doesn’t need us, nor will it be harmed by us.

I then spent the next week reading After the Absolute by David Gold. It is a second-hand account of what another person believed, and I guess David never “got it”. I will not settle with his account. I have ordered some of Richard Rose’s books and am waiting for their arrival.

David Gold did bring some interesting things to my mind. There are a lot of people out there who want to teach their spirituality, and when one has an uncanny ability to “read minds”, or heal others, his/her message will be given credence by those who don’t listen for themselves. People are afraid to think for themselves, and are easily led by miracles and magic. The true “miracle” is that we are all capable of producing them.

I couldn’t help but think that Mr. Gold painted Mr. Rose as a schizophrenic. I have some first-hand experience with something like that, and a delusion of grandeur should never be confused with a true message from God. A person with mental illness does not have a better connection to God than any of the rest of us.

We should be very careful about following “teachers”. We are all capable of communicating with God ourselves. It is good to reach out to each other and share what we’ve heard, but we have no business telling anyone that we know more, or that we are higher up on some spiritual ladder.

When I listen, I am told that we are all here on our own path, fulfilling our own contracts and learning our own lessons. There are no good experiences in this existence, and no bad. They are all experiences intended to bring more balance to the universe. We are not intrinsically bad, nor are we “chosen”. We just are. We are all that is. We are all God.

Would you have me doubt this?