This morning I looked up what my pal Louise Hay says about having a cough. I knew it would be fifth chakra related, and lo and behold, it is: Coughs are associated with a deep need to make a point.
And that fits. Because I do, in fact, have a deep need to make a point.
As I wrote about in this post-election post, I am deeply troubled by so many American's willingness to sweep Donald Trump's sexual assaults under the rug and cast a vote for him anyway. I reckon this hit me so hard because of the nature of my own trauma and my family's desire to sweep it under the rug too. My whole life, including the part where I was conscious of the abuse and all the time that came before (which was thirty some years), I have been more concerned with my father's well-being than my own. Even when I confronted my parents the first time, I was really worried about that, and my actions afterward have vacillated between trying to live in my truth and trying to please or placate.
As a result, I've been stuck in this place with my parents where I feel no genuine emotion - just a sense of going through the motions. The only genuine emotion I feel for them is related to my kids. I love that my kids love their grandparents. I knew that was possible, and important, because my parents had strained relationships with three of their four (collective) parents, but I adored them, especially my Father's parents. It's this knowledge that propelled me to work through my trauma to the extent that I have.
I dropped out of my trauma recovery group partway through. I felt that there was too much emphasis on the misogynistic nature of our culture, too much attention given to the misdeeds of the perpetrator, too much wallowing in self-pity because we've all been through these big traumas.
And then, Trump was elected over Clinton. And I realized that my trauma recovery instructor was right. Is right. It's as bad as she says and then some.
I also continued reading a book I've been picking up and putting down for years: The Body Never Lies: The Lingering Effects of Hurtful Parenting. And one of the things it said was you will never do your parents any good by having a relationship with them based on shoulds. I should love them, because they are my mom and dad. I should appreciate what they have done for me. Nope. Maybe I will come around to that, to either of those, once I finally let it be known what their particular brand of parenting did: it left me with only a shadow of myself.
Now I'm reading another book, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F#(k, whose author would say that their parenting may be their fault, but it's my responsibility to deal with its effects.
I completely agree. And that's what I'm finally doing. By letting my parents know exactly what those effects are, by letting them know that I no longer intend to abide or enable a culture of denial, by finally worrying more about how I feel about it all than how my father (or mother) feels.
It's not easy. I don't want to cause my parents pain. But that's the thing: I didn't cause it. It's there, in their twin lifelong struggles with depression. I'm just naming it. And in my experience, naming something can lead to relief.
But that's out of my control. All I can do is admit that all we ever knew, as a family, was fatally flawed. What passed as love was something much less spacious, and forgiving, and nurturing, and life-affirming.
It's super fitting that the song for today is by a band called The Head and the Heart:
When I wake up in the morning
I see nothing
For miles and miles and miles
When I sleep in the evening
Oh Lord
There she goes
Only in dreams, she's only in dreams
Well, well my love
We've been here before
Don't drag me through this again
We've tried everything under the sun
Now I'm trying to wake up from this
I'm trying to make up for it
All we ever do
Is all we ever knew
I know that in my Father's body, the head and the heart are separate. I believe the same is true of my Grandfather's. And I know that in my life, mine were separate for a long, long time, and still revert to that separation when frightened, because that's how I found safety as a child. By leaving my heart, and the rest of my body, and just existing in my head.
It's all we ever knew, Dad, until I learned so much more. And now I can genuinely say that I hope you too will experience the integration of your head and your heart in this lifetime, but whether you do or not, is up to you:
Well, what goes around comes around
I know sometimes you get so caught in a dream
But now it's time to wake up from this
It's time to make up for it
It's time to wake up from this
Yes it's time to wake up from this
It's time to make up for it
All we ever do
Is all we ever knew
(La la la la la la...)
I'm feelin' low, feelin' high
Feelin' down, why isn't this enough?
I'm feelin' low, feelin' high
Feelin' down, why isn't this enough?
All we ever do
Is all we ever knew
All we ever do
I'm only in charge of me, and of my children. And I know, from the deepest regions of mind, heart, body and soul, that:
It's time to wake up from this
(La la la la la la...)
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