Directing as a mother

Today yelled at my son, my son who is applying to college and has applications to fill and prepare, who leaves to smoke pot with his friend. I told him that he had work to do, and that going off and smoking pot was not going to allow the opportunities available for the coming year. I became so angry that I walked/stomped out to his friend”s car and told him that he might as well take all his stuff and move out, that if he wanted to smoke pot all day and hang with his friend and then have to climb his way out of this position he might as well start down this road because I did not want this in the house.

He left the car, his friend drove off, he went up stairs. My son then came to me and asked me if I loved him and why did I want him to leave. I said it was because I felt that he was not directing himself, and the only way I knew for him to learn was to walk the road he was on, that he needed to “go through” this, so why not get it done?

Then my whole body felt stiff for the rest of the day. Back to square one with my back. My back that appears to be on some kind of roller coaster. One day light and easy, the next a mess. Same with my skin on my back and the same with my knees and the top of my thighs. Not to mention small stabbing pains randomly throughout my body. Things I have never noticed/felt before. If this is the “Life Virus” then it is pretty amazing.

Yesterday evening my mother called. I could hear the ice cubes clinking in her glass ( I can’t drink- like my father if I drink one beer a day more than four days in a row I start feeling physically ill and nauseous in a really strong way- my body simply cannot take alcohol), my mother has what is known as a “wooden leg” meaning she can drink a lot. In the conversation she must have used the word “sad” about 15 times. Everything is sad to my mother.She can talk about this and that and describe it as being sad. When I first started this process I did extensive forgiveness on sadness and I realized that it came from my mother, that I allowed what has probably been in the family to be me.

The worry and the sadness come from my mother. The last time she called with worry, I simply told her to breath and realize that what she was worrying about was something she could in this moment not change ( my father was out in the car after dark and has bad eyesight and does not have a cell phone). She did stop the whining and extensive fear “emoting”.

This time things were different. I was not as annoyed as usual, as I have been. Years ago I would have completely supported this in sympathy. Now I slowly remember to breath more and more and stop direction as same emotion. I try to look at what is physically happening- like “father in car” + ” no cell phone” + ” do not know exactly where father is” + ” father either makes it home or not” + “deal with what happens when it comes” + “stop worry” + “stop fear” + “breath” + sympathy=same pain.

So, when my mother was on the phone talking about how sad everything was, she literally said, ” so sad, so very sad, so so sad” I looked at this as being a looping energetic construct, emotion. What I didn’t do this time, and I think it was because I was incredulous in the awareness of how much my mother is this, was direct.

Growing up my mother was very reactive against sulking. We were never allowed to sulk, it was simply as waste of time and aggressively attacked. I was quiet because I realized that this state of sadness is another form of the same thing; it is a form of sulking about how things are, there really is no difference. Had I directed and made this realization into a reply at least I would have moved on, even if my mother had not heard, not followed. Honestly, she probably would have aggreed and then continued with the same litany about how sad things are. And even though I would have wanted her to hear me, had she not heard me, a self judgement of feeling ineffective was not an option either.

Any emotion held onto is sulking, not any different.

With my son today, I was directing with worry about his direction. I tensed up and carried my own “sulk”, directed as my own “sulk”. And yet through this worry I was aware that I really want my son to find himself.

In desperation as solution, I realized that the only way for my husband that was going to do what he did was for him to find himself. Those were the exact words I said to my self. Though i do not know exactly what this means in application, this is really all that there is. This was part of what was driving me today with my son. At the same time that there was worry in addressing my son here was this principle. I could feel it, it is somehow a very stable thing.

I am thinking this today, and then I listen to a video about finding a truth and holding onto it. Which is interesting, because sometimes I think that all we need is here but we don’t hear it until we listen, and the moment we hear we listen. Somehow.

I stopped breathing again.

If energy is a “sensual ” pleasure than any and all emotion is a form of debauchery. My mother likes the sensual pleasure of alcohol, she likes the sensual pleasure of stating that things are sad. My mother as being a habit, her existence, which need not be what it is that I am here.

When I attempt to direct my son, I need not add fear and emotion. These sensual pleasures of worry and sadness and hope are merely conditioning that, as a mother, I believe mean I care, I am doing my job.

When my son had asked me later why I had wanted him to leave, he did so calmly. Though there was emotion in this “event” it was not consuming. The emotion was here but we were able to direct response through it.

I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to worry about the future of my son.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to worry that I will be judged as a reflection of my son.
I forgive my self for allowing and accepting my self to be directed by worry and not to realize that self direction as worry only adds burdensome guilt to the self direction of my son.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to not breath in every moment, to not remain in breath, to not stabilize myself as breath, to not remember the space of infinity between breath where any emotion is rendered stagnant and limiting in the nature of its singularity.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to allow my self to sulk.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to not remember to use the practical application of breath to direct my self through worry and emotion.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to fear the wrath of GOD should I stand and breath and direct, a wrath that is the energetic movement of the accepted existence of those around me, who are me, who I cannot judge and react to in fear and frustration.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self to worry about my son losing his orphan pension, so I force him to continue in school instead of letting him go on a more difficult path where he might end up finding himself sooner than later and instead force him to do what society dictates , where I as a mother will not be judged.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting my self for feeling guilty because I have indulged my son and created what he is through what I have accepted and allowed and feel that I must find a way to help him find himself despite what choices I have or have not made.

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About rebeccakarlendalmas

Desteni I Process Equal Life Foundation livingincome.me eqafe.com
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