The Journey continues

Though I don't have regrets per se (see earlier blog), I do have to deal with pain, physical and emotional, and anger over certain past events, which may have a lot to do with the pain. Anger can hide in the body of a congenial person, one that generally holds their true emotions hidden from the world. By using a smile and laughter a troubled soul can present a very different picture then the one that is churning deep inside. Often, laughter is a defense mechanism and can even hide the anger from our conscious self.

2010 (C) Shelly Stotts Photography, used by permission

I was reminded of this the other day, listening to Marie Osmond as she talked about her son's suicide on Oprah. The picture her son presented to his family and to the world, one of a smiling, congenial, laughter filled soul, hid a troubled young man who tragically ended his life in despair. I don't know his pain and am not seeking to equate my anger with anything that might have gone on inside of Marie's son, just that often, the face we present to others can hide what is really happening within.

That anger can rear its head when triggered by a comment, actually any reminder no matter the source. Until mid-life hit, I probably wouldn't have recognized my anger as anger, but when life changes occurred, that anger all came boiling up from within in the form of depression and pain, with a certain amount of loneliness and despair. One by one, I've had to look at those events, those heartaches, that caused my anger, allow each to surface and then seek to forgive as I let them go. The most difficult anger to release is the anger over hurts my children have experienced because of the selfishness, or meanness of others. I'm still working on those.

Forgiving and letting go, I've found, is not just a one time event either. Hurts leave wounds and some wounds take a long time to heal. When healed there will be scars. Scars are protective barriers. Reminders can threaten to open old wounds as those scars leave us vulnerable and the anger, pain, and heartache can threaten to consume if not recognized and released. So it requires, to use a Buddhist phrase, being mindful.

2010 (C) Shelly Stotts Photography, used by permission

I can't rest on any past forgiveness either that I might have extended toward myself or another on this journey from the cradle to the grave. I must choose to forgive again, and again, whenever that anger is triggered. I must be mindful of that inner dialog that rises to the surface about past hurt, choose not to dwell on it, not to hold it in, or against another, and let it go, over and over and over. By allowing the soothing waters of forgiveness to continue to wash over the wound, it keeps it from becoming festered, keeps it cleansed. It's not easy and I can't do it alone, especially when the anger feels justified. I need grace to make it.

Maybe that's why when Jesus was asked how many times we should forgive, he said, seventy times seven. Perhaps it not only applies to that one that keeps making choices that hurt us and we need to extend forgiveness repeatedly, but to that which rises up from within when least expected from the past. Is he saying the need to forgive doesn't end, not until the end? I think so.

The Journey

2010 (C) Jennifer McClearen, used by permission

This life is a journey. It begins at conception and continues, if not interrupted, until natural death. As the years progress and more of life is behind instead of ahead, it is natural to look back on the journey. As I consider where I am at this moment in time, I also look at the choices made that helped me  arrive at "this place," wherever that might be, in life.

2010 (C) Shelly Stotts Photography, used by permission

I don't have regrets. There are choices that I look back on that pain me, because my choices caused others pain. There are times when I wish I had more information, could look into the future and see how I might have been a better help to another, and I live with the fact I made choices based on the knowledge I had at the time. There are times when I wish I were wiser, which really incorporates all the above, but I wasn't, so endlessly lamenting with regrets is non-productive.

In the end, when all is said and done, in order not to carry around the weight of past choices, even though I live with the consequences of the sum total of those choices, I must let it all go. I must accept myself, my limitations, in order to be free of regrets. It's why I love the movie, The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons. It's about growing old, accepting who we are and letting go of the past, except for the LOVE we carry with us.

To celebrate the journey of LIFE, then, I must accept the weeds, the thorns, and the thistles.

As a Christian, I've confessed those choices that caused others pain, sought forgiveness, made restitution where able, but what carries me and keeps me from wallowing in the swamp of the past, is that I know God is a redeeming God. Nothing is un-redeemable. God can take any situation, any relationship, any past, with all of its choices, and weave it into something beautiful. Each and every choice, is a small thread in a larger tapestry called LIFE that in the end will cause all to bow at the magnificence of the LOVE that fashioned not only my life, but all LIFE.

Life as a dog

2010 (c) Shelly Stotts Photography, used by permission

Living with Mom (she has Alzheimer's), I can quickly, without warning, find myself in the dog house.

Last night, she accused me of "not liking her," and that if I wanted to get rid of her, she could go live in a nursing home.

At the time, I had NO IDEA what was going on in her mind that brought this up. It really doesn't matter. To try to untangle an Alzheimer's mind is just impossible. I find clues sometimes, but there is never any way to anticipate. Besides it would drive me crazy to try to circumvent all the possibilities. All I can do is assure her that I don't want her to leave and wait for whatever it is to pass.

That sounds simple, doesn't it. Well, its not. The minute I hear her say, "I have something to ask you?" Or "I'd just like to know....." my blood pressure begins to rise, and I wait clenching my teeth for that which is to come.

Mom doesn't realize how bizarre sometimes her thoughts are, because to her, they are real and she is right. I try not to argue, but when accused, it's hard not to want to talk her out of her perception by explaining how she has mis-interpreted things. Besides, it seems delusional to me, but to her, I'm the one that is delusional, naive, or forgetful. Who is right? Depends on your perception, doesn't it?

Another alternative is to just run and hide in the doghouse.

Oh well. Being in the doghouse is not such a bad place to be. Looking out on my little world from the confines of my little doggie bed, I find comfort in the fact that these episodes come and go and tomorrow, hopefully, I'll be able to cautiously sneak out from my "safe-place" and find laughter, singing, and joy. For now though, I think I'll just snuggle in.