Tag Archives: family

Grateful for My Mother

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Mom

Mom

I have not always been grateful for my mother and when she died we were not on the best of terms.  Recently my perspective has been changing somewhat as I have been helping a friend whose children keep pushing her away saying they aren’t responsible for taking care of her now that she is getting older and weaker. It has hit me hard how grateful I have to be for my mother and how I want to honor her memory today.

My mother was a wonderfully strange and funny creature. She was very different than any of the women in my family. There was not a woman anywhere in my known universe at the time that was even remotely like this woman. She never had any time for gossip or negative talk about anyone. She never wanted to speak evil of anyone or anything. She loved to read more than any person I have ever met and was always busy with some creative project. She loved working, she loved selling, she loved shopping for her children. She loved people so deeply that when she died it was not just her family that grieved, but her church and her community all felt a deep sense of loss. I miss that woman and today I honor her memory and her hard work to make me the wonderful person that I am today. I am as unique as she was and I am proud of it.

As I help my friend deal with being rejected and abandoned by her children for “being too much trouble” I know now that I must have hurt my own mother deeply at times by not responding when she called out for help. I forgive myself for my own selfishness and I know that my mother in heaven forgives me too.

I affirm for my friend that she will be able to some day be close with her family and have everyone reach out to each other freely without any baggage from the past, without any emotional wounds or resentments and simply love and respect each other in the present moment. I see her with her children and her grandchildren in a warm and happy family gathering of peace and joy.

Letting Go: Challenges of a Perfectionist

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Yellow Flower from the Garden District in New Orleans

Yellow Flower from the Garden District in New Orleans

I think I probably could have called this Blog “Letting Go” because on the spiritual journey that I am on it seems that I am coming up on the need to do this over and over again, each time in slightly different ways. My need to let go is very strong evidently.

I have always felt driven to always tell people exactly what I think about them and about the best course that I think they should take. The problem is that, not everyone wants to hear my opinion all the time and sometimes I just need to shut up and let it go. I have to trust the universe to get the message out without thinking that I am the sole messenger of truth or wisdom.

I may be driven to perfection, but I don’t have to use it as an instrument of torture over myself, my family, my friends or my associates. I have to learn to let things work themselves out sometimes or simply fall where they may and find their own way.

I am grateful that I am learning to temper my perfectionism. I am grateful that I am learning how to express it. I am grateful that I am learning to let go of my perfectionism. I am grateful that there is a wonder and a beauty to the world around me that is an imperfect world.

Learning about perfectionism is learning about forgiveness.

Recovering From Depression Without Pharmaceuticals

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Grass . Sky . Light

Grass . Sky . Light

I first have to state a disclaimer. I am not a psychiatrist or a psychologist or a mental health professional. I am a man recovering from a serious depression and I offer my story as one of a simple example of what has worked for me. I am recovering from depression without using any prescription drugs. I am happy about that and I know my way might be right for others too. I have quite a few friends and family that are on mood stabilizers and some of them seem to be comfortably numb or getting by with just enough high anxiety to get to the next day, but never fundamentally getting any better, experiencing more peace or joy or fulfillment in life.

I should also say that I do not have health insurance and in a sense I think that has been good. There wasn’t a doctor sitting in an office ready to fill out a prescription for his favorite pill from his favorite drug company to give to me to make my pain go away. No, I have had to talk to friends, take long walks, stop smoking and stop abusing my body and brain with alcohol. I have had to find ways to get out of myself and my myopic obsession with my own pain.

One of the best things that I did in the depths of my depression was to remember that I wasn’t the only one in the world with pain, regrets, loneliness and hurt. I reached out to contact old friends and family to tell them that I loved them and that I wanted to do something special for them. I reached out this way 3 times. Two times life slapped me in the face, and a third time life rewarded me with one of the best experiences of entire life.

The first time life slapped me in the face was when one very old and very good friend was way to busy to come over for Christmas and called that afternoon to let me know they couldn’t make it. They didn’t even have the dignity to tell me they had no plans on coming earlier in the week. The second I got slapped was when a friend did come over for Christmas and then acted as like I had done nothing special for them. Then to make matters worse, a short time later they were far too busy to talk to me. These experiences almost made my depression worse and I have had to work for months to pull myself out of an emotional hole of resentment and a larger sense of loneliness than the one I started with.

It was however the third time, someone reached back and the experience ended up changing both of us. I reached out to my father and told him I wanted him to come and visit me this summer. He did. It was for me a reason to keep on living in the months leading up to his visit. In the planning stages there were flights to check and arrangements to be made and things to get my mind off of myself. When dad arrived, it was a chance to deeply connect with someone I had always loved but never spent much time with, and most importantly, for him at the advanced age of 87 years old, it was as he told his older sisters ”the best thing that has happened to me in 50 years”. This experience where I reached out and someone else reached back, changed my life.

At times, I have a problem focusing only on the negative, on what turns out badly and on how I fail. I obsess about people that reject me. I concentrate on how much I hurt. I now can take those two negative experiences and let them determine the rest of my life or I can let that one incredibly transformative experience guide the rest of my life. I can make a choice to live in pain or to live in happiness, acceptance and forgiveness. I have to remember that I did something for my dad that turned out beautifully. His visit changed us both for the better. I have to remember that I am capable, even on the darkest day, of changing my world for the better.

I am learning to let my own wounds go and to release those that hurt me to have a good life. I have to release them with no feelings of resentment or jealousy or pain.

I have been feeling the need to publish this story because on my daily 5 mile walks, it just kept coming back to me. I think other people need to know that a pill is never THE ANSWER. Prozac,  Zoloft and Cymbalta might be part of a treatment, but they should never be counted on to do all the work. Exercise, reaching out beyond ourselves and our pain, good diet and positive mental habits are just as important in our healing.