I call this my tribute to DH Lawrence.
The fall is a very busy but exciting time around here. As the past month's posts have shown, a slew of celebrations take place in September, and now that we've rolled over into another moon, it is time to celebrate some more. Today B and I honored our nine year wedding anniversary. He gave me an amazing gift of nine white packets, each containing the seeds of a different type of tree. I love these natural, thoughtful gestures. One year he glued and painted a series of little wooden shapes and a hinged box to look like a camera and hid one hundred dollars inside to put toward a new camera. Swoony stuff.
If I began to count my blessings, I might never make it to bed, where my infant is sure to need me soon. Suffice to say, I am grateful for my husband's creativity and sentimental spirit-I feel totally loved and taken care of by him. You can't ask for more than that in a partner.
I'm continuing to take the parenting series I've mentioned here before. We are raising Miles in something called the Causal Theory, which is grounded in the idea that all children are born perfect and good and blank (no bad seeds) and is bound and woven tightly with Attachment Theory. (We believe that personalities are made, not inherited.) I've taken the series (aptly called the Miracle Child series) in the summer and I'm retaking it now. The more I study it, the more convinced I am that we are indeed a very wounded culture. This theory maintains that our personalities are not inborn, but created by the nurturing (or lack of) that our primary caregiver provides (whoever baby spends his daytime with is considered "mommy"). This makes it rather controversial because naturally, we do not really want to be responsible for our childrens' really bad behavior or incompetencies. What I love most about this theory is that by not defaulting to genetics as the explanation for our behaviors, there are endless possibilities for correcting and healing.
In my family unit, my brother and I learned the same lessons mostly, but we internalized and responded to them in nearly opposite ways. I rebelled at my mother's controlling and unsafe model by exploding out into the world, being overly independent and guarded and choosing partners that would let me act out my rage out on them again and again, never healing, of course. My brother rebelled by shutting down and internalizing his hurts which resulted in crippling physical illness and an inability to sustain himself well into his adult life. Though far more complicated than I've described here, we are both working hard to heal and not to scapegoat our wounds on others. This, for me, means Mr. Miles Lighthorse!
We believe that unhealed rage toward the caregiver that let us down will leak out all over our life until we find a way to give it back to its rightful owner. **If one can't give it back to the source, then giving it to a skilled and nurturing therapist is the next best thing. I feel like a brand new sparkling angelic creature after doing ragework.**
Another valuable nugget I've held onto is that of conscious override. By becoming more self aware, I can see myself doing things like overreacting, checking out, vegging on the web, raging at the wrong person, escaping into a glass of wine, engaging in obsessive, pissy fits of cleaning when I'm stressed, being "helpful" (a disguise for being controlling and/or judgemental), and depending on my spouse to fill me up when I feel empty. With practice, (and a dash of much needed humility) the bell goes off a little louder each time I catch myself in one of these acts. It helps me say "Wait a minute!, I think this is my childhood talking here!" and I can get clear about what is really going on and self-correct. It feels like I am at yet another "beginning" which is always a fresh and inspiring place to explore.
After well over a decade of sifting through the rubble of my family's life and history, reading a library's worth of self-help books, going on retreats, using positive thinking affirmations, calling on *god* to help, beating myself up, going to various forms of therapy, journalling, bodywork, coaching, ditching unfulfilling partners and work, and more more more, the pieces are really clicking into place for me.
I would have to say that none of the above worked for me well enough until I identified the exact source of my wounds, stopped protecting my parents and denying what was really eating at me way down there. I believe our culture loves to repress, honor our parents no matter what and try to positive-think our way out of our pain. Ha!
And if that doesn't sound bitchy and controversial enough, I have more: I side with the minority that ADD, ADHD, RAD and the epidemic medication of our children is all about weak parents and an inability to hear them tell us that they are really mad (and rightfully so) about us sticking them in daycare. Eeegadzooks, don't get me started.
Soon, the Causal Theory will be available to everyone at the new and improved, almost finished website. Right now, the dedicated woman who developed it has nurtured it only in the Los Angeles area. You can hear her radio show here three days a week. I want to thank Dr. Faye and her team at The Institute for Professional Parenting for shining light in the darkest places and for bravely paving the way for the rest of us...
At the end of the day, I am all alone with myself. Until I can sit here in complete comfort in my own skin, this ongoing pursuit of self awareness and reflection must continue. Some days are a bit more intense than others!
Thank you for coming here and sharing in my journey....
I love getting together with friends, but having a baby hinders that plan a bit: especially when bedtime really begins to become a matter of importance.
