The Person Who Did Not Have A Chance...?

Merle Shaim, a Canadian author and journalist wrote some of my favorite books -- one of them is titled Courage My Love; A Book To Light An Honest Path. I highly recommend its reading, particularly in these increasingly difficult times.

In her writings, I have come across two quotes (in truth there are many more) which have always gently spoken to me and touched my soul but lately have been screaming at me and whacking me across the head with a two by four...

The conflict between what one is and what one is expected to be touches all of us. And sometimes, rather than reach for what one could be, we choose the comfort of a failed role, preferring to be a victim of circumstance, the person who did not have a chance. (aka victimhood, of which our current society is rife with.)

AND

One often learns more from ten days of agony than from ten years of contentment (How true this one rings. Ask any survivor of war, catastrophic illness, hurricane/tsunammi survivors, or someone who has had an innocent, pristine child ripped from their lives out of ignorance, anger, stupidity or hate, by a once beloved partner, spouse, or adult child.) You do learn much from pain don't you?

These very things have led me to a place where I know many now keep company -- the fear of success and the awakening to the fact that this fear stems from seeking other's approval and not giving myself credit. Of wallowing in self doubt, self depracation, and fear. Sound familiar to any of you?

How many of you remember a song children sang, oft times while traveling... """"the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, and what do you think he saw""""? Yep, he saw another damned mountain.

I find I suffer from this very same mountain climbing syndrome; scaling one mountain after the next, over coming one more obstacle or tragedy, trying to smash that invisible glass ceiling, trying to be that "perfect imposter" that makes everyone else happy but not me. Never, however, while accomplishing these tasks, did I "celebrate" me. Even in the publishing of my new book of poetry "Shadows of Love; a Walk Through Life" I find myself shrugging off personal triumphs and accomplishments -- seeking instead for other's approval.

Tracing this unnurturing behavior back to its roots, I can see a shadow self standing fearfully quiet, waiting for that parental approval which never came (and now never will). Decades later, and with the help of other unmet needs (not wants) and self absorbed people, I have come to believe that nothing I do is ever good enough so I have continued on a somewhat self destructive cycle of withholding approval, not from family, friends or coworkers, but from myself.

Then, when I truly get myself to the point of feeling absolutely worthless, I pick up the last Mother's Day present I ever received from my Jessie bear, open the cover, and hear her soft little voice saying " Happy Mother's Day Mom-mom; I love you", and look over a scrapbook of memories she and I made just by being ourselves and enjoying life. Then, in my mind and heart, I feel her tiny arms steal around my neck and hear her saying "you know who is the bestest in the whole wide world? You are Mom-mom!. Ahhh, the faith and love of a child can move mountains can't it?

So today, despite the fact that the only piece of sunshine I ever truly knew has been ripped from my life, I am moving forward... supported by that innocent love and belief. I will honor the faith and love of my granddaughter by honoring accomplishments, dreams, and even failures and leaving her a legacy of courage, conviction, hope, and unconditional love...

Although no one will EVER crown me "Queen for a Day" and the world wil never confer a recognition that can ever make me feel fulfilled or whole like Jess did and can, I know I can. After all, can ANY of us really afford to wait for the worlds approval? For anyone's approval?

So, dear reader, join me today by making your accomplishments matter, no matter how trivial they seem to you. They are NOT! Rummage around and find old photos or memorabilia that say HEY!! I did this!! and then display them proudly and rejoice. Pour a glass of wine and celebrate YOU and I will join you in a toast of success, approval, gratitude, and love.

I believe in you and I believe in me too.

FINALLY

The golden apple devoured has seeds -- it is endless.

Blessed be.

MOM-MOM’S LOVE
(The promise I can’t keep)
Tiny footsteps padding softly down the hall
Moving very quickly, like a slinky, covert cat
Slipping through the dimness toward the light
The query, “where is my Mom-Mom at?”
Pretending not to notice, I continue with my studies
A shuffl ing in the corridor, causes me to steal a peek
Tousled, rumbled hair, drowsy, sleepy eyes
Lurking in the shadows, appearing very meek.
Clearing from my throat a pretentious little lump
I gently close my book, appearing nonchalant
In a faint and fretful voice, the visitor proclaims
”Sitting with my Mom-Mom truly what I want.”
Feigning grave surprise, a gasp I let escape
I hear giggling from the shadows, but not a move she makes
Powerless to prolong my ridiculous charade
I open my arms wide, will this be the cue she takes?
The little fairy fl oats across the room
Limbs extended out toward me, a beam upon her face.
She hurls herself upon me, wriggles nearer yet
A sigh seeps from her lips, as I enfold her in my embrace.
Angelic features radiant, warm breath upon my cheek
A sleepy, wispy line she speaks, and I begin to weep,
”Promise when I wake, you will be here just for me?”
”I love you very much, you know”
And she tumbles off to sleep.