Parenting Myself

Heiko was right. Months ago in Yosemite, he had told me that my journey had already begun. This morning, I understood what he meant in a whole new way. I could not get out of bed. After a solid week of networking, researching, studying, and attending classes on permaculture, travel tips, and the practicalities of packing up my life, I had gifted myself this day of rest, but the magnitude of what I am planning had triggered a familiar inner muddle and threatening sense of ambivalence. I felt paralyzed by the process of planning what may be the greatest challenge of my life and on the verge of abandoning my dream, which would only lead me into a deep depression. I knew the only way forward was to go inward, but I was afraid of what I would find. I have been gradually losing the will to face too much raw feeling alone, afraid that my dignity and resolve will crumble without someone to catch me.

My sister and I used to joke about having an inner toddler – one who would interrupt our work to whine for cake, watch movies way too late and need to be forcefully put to bed, and trantrum for no apparent reason. I sometimes wonder if one of the hidden gifts of parenthood is the invitation to enter into dialogue with ourselves at every age through an intimate relationship with a child as they grown. Having opted to remain childfree, I will not experience much of the angst and joy of this process, but I have not fully escaped motherhood. I feel myself undoubtedly maturing as I take responsibility for the fact that every choice I make to secure freedom and express my strongest, most visionary self must also take into account the needs of my smallest, most vulnerable self. For better or worse, she and I are in this together.

I have known this Child for years, but I only fully stepped into my role as her parent early last year. I had been locked in a spiral of tension and doubt over whether or not to leave my job, and my sister introduced me to a writing exercise that invites dialogue between two or more inner voices through journaling stream-of-conscious in different colors of ink. I chose purple for that sweet and tender Child in me to plead for comfort and safety and blue for the grounded wisdom of my Spirit to rationalize the changes she wanted to make. In a series of conversations (fully transcribed below my signature), they were able to join forces and propel me through a huge life transition – the first I was able to make without a friend or lover holding my hand. I was astonished by how quickly the Child became calm and revealed her wisdom when fully heard, and how honesty led to empathy, which developed into the mutual trust, respect, and genuine love of an equal partnership.

This morning, I lay there in the blue light, feeling stiff and heavy, and let my Child and my Spirit take turns speaking through me. I heard them express to each other all the things I had been unable to face alone, and feeling securely held and witnessed in their company, my tears finally came welling gently over that familiar fear of change and longing for reliable comfort. My Child shared her deep sense of shame over having needs that threaten my Spirit’s dream, and my Spirit soothed her with loving gratitude for having a companion in her loneliness to love and nurture for a lifetime. They bonded over their shared need for clarity and found the strength to face it together, at least for today. And that Child wept again in grateful disbelief that my Spirit was willing to relinquish her power to strengthen their bond. They would decide together, and neither of them would be asked to sacrifice more than the other. In their reunion, a sense of relief and fluid serenity settled over me.

My counselor surprised me on my last visit with her full support of my decision to travel. Just in the past month she has seen a significant shift in the way I talk about the men in my life that shows I am no longer latching on. Having bonded Child and Spirit, I am able to find solace in them, knowing that I am loved, I belong, I am secure, and I matter. Right now. Anywhere in the world and with anyone. My Spirit’s ability to love and nurture that Child, and her ability to receive that care, is enabling her to grow up. The way they are now guiding each other is altering the blueprint for how I give to others when I am most courageous and visionary, and when I am most lonely, angry, and frightened. And it is transforming what I expect in return.

When I look back on my journey, it won’t really matter whether I make it to Thailand, Italy, or even out my front door. It won’t matter if I even stay interested in permaculture or ecopsychology. All of those things will rest in memory as they transform into whatever comes next. What ultimately matters is not where I go, but the quality of the inner world I take with me – that I make decisions, tackle risks, and accept compromises without shaming, manipulating, silencing, or oppressing any part of myself. And that journey began the moment I accepted responsibility for parenting myself.

Nancy

 

February 2015:

Child: I’m feeling nervous and angry because you aren’t listening to me. I don’t want to see him.

Spirit: But we miss the community. And he’s leaving. It’s now or never. Think about how everyone else feels.

Child: I am sick and tired of doing what I’m supposed to and doing things for other people and not getting what I want. I don’t want to see him.

Spirit: It could be enlightening and healing, like the dream last night.

Child: And it could be the same old painful “Look at Nancy for being bat-shit crazy unable to get over it dominating the space by making drama why doesn’t she get her shit together”.

Spirit: Who’s saying that?

You are! You are such a fucking tyrant! I’m tired of you telling me what to do and say and how to feel. I don’t want to see those people.

But you’re lonely and sad and lost.

Yea. And does seeing anyone help? When have we felt the best in the last few months?

Alone.

Right! So why do you keep signing us up for classes and submitting resumes and scheduling coffee dates?!

Because we have to find a way out.

Right. A way out. Not a way into all this social drama and stimulation and demands.

I already told them I would go.

That’s your problem. You can drag me along if you must, but don’t expect me to be happy about it. What are you trying to prove?

I’m just tired of feeling stuck while things are vague and endlessly uncomfortable. I want to try things and see if something sticks.

Fine. Experiment. I’m exhausted. You dragged me through the old house, out with old friends. I’m done. I don’t want any more. I don’t want an interview. I don’t want a planning meeting. I don’t want socializing. I’M DONE! I’M SO READY TO NOT!

What do you want?

I WANT TO NOT ALREADY! Why won’t you let me?!

I’m scared. I’m scared of getting stuck in loneliness. I’m scared of being broke and isolated. I’m scared of being old and frightened. I’m scared of losing my reputation.

You would need years to be broke. All of those other things are already happening. You feel lonely and isolated and frightened and ashamed now.

I don’t want it to get worse.

So you think by going back to that community and sticking it out at your job and applying for jobs you’ll feel less lonely and frightened and isolated and ashamed?

I will feel like I didn’t give up, like I’m strong enough.

You have already failed. Why can’t you admit that and just let me grieve?! You will never have this community back. There is nothing you can do to gain the kind of respect and appreciation you want from your job. And Andy is gone! He doesn’t want to be your friend, he doesn’t owe you anything. You screwed up. You sold yourself for a friendship you don’t have. It’s all gone. Let it fucking go. You’re killing me with this!

I’m sorry. I just… don’t want to start over. I don’t know how to tell the story in a way that gives me hope. I don’t know which way to go.

You have to start by letting it all go. Every day you show up and do the work, you are holding on. Every thought you spend trying to understand and make peace, you are holding on. It has nothing to do with what you have, and everything to do with who you are.

I don’t know who I am without it all.

You are holding onto something that isn’t you anymore. Holding on doesn’t make it yours. That’s why I am so sad and tired and angry. You are oppressing me. Let go.

I can’t. I’m too scared. I’m sorry. It’s just too much loss.

I’m sorry too. I’m done with this pain. I’m ready for something new. But I have to go where you lead. If you make me do this, please just don’t expect me to feel joy or hope. You have to face your fear to get those back. Please don’t make me wait too long.

I’ll try.

You know that jealousy you feel?

Yeah?

It’s about all this, too.

How so?

Of course you envy others stepping into and inviting what’s right for them when you are too afraid to step into what’s yours.

Aren’t you afraid of being poor?

You could not work for two years be fine. You make having seem like a curse. You are so afraid to lose it you won’t use it, even when your life is shredded. You aren’t doing me any favors dragging me back there. And I don’t want a new challenge either. I want a nice, long rest. Only you can give it to me. I’ve held on for two years, for you. I have no more to give.

I had hope all that time that Andy and I would reunite as friends, that I would find another love, that a new job would come. I don’t anymore.

And that’s why you need to let go and let it all fall away. What would it be like to live with no one to impress. Ever. Not needing anyone to keep paying you, to keep housing you, to keep loving you. You pay your own bills and love yourself. What would you find?

I don’t know.

Exactly. Doesn’t it excite you even a little to want to find out.

Maybe. Maybe later.

Later? Later when you are strong and happy, and in love with the life you have? Why not now when everything is falling apart anyway? What about Right Pain? Right Lonliness?

I was saying that to convince myself. It was a mantra, not a knowing.

I know. But you’ve meant it before, and didn’t it feel good?

I suppose. I don’t quite remember. I’m tired and need a break.

Ok.

 

March 2015:

Child: Remember when I told you I didn’t want any more interviews?

Spirit: Yes.

Child: That I didn’t want a new challenge – I wanted a long rest. For you to let go?

Spirit: Yes.

Child: And that if you insisted on dragging me along, you shouldn’t expect to feel any joy or hope?

Spirit: I do.

Well, that’s why you feel so confused and threatened by this job offer.

But I had moments of hope.

Sure. Once you stopped listened to the siren I set off in our body and started crafting stories and images in your mind. This guy has always bugged me.

I know. He bugs me too. But I want to believe I can get over that. This could be the key out.

Maybe for your boredom and wounded pride. Not for me. Not for our body. I’m exhausted. Our body is weak and inflamed. Give us this vacation. Accept that the timing isn’t right. That it all lines up on paper, but it isn’t for us right now.

It doesn’t feel real. I’m pissed I don’t feel excited. Why can’t you let me grow and take this on?!

Ouch! That hurts to hear! I have waited patiently for you, protected you, and guided you for years. I need you to listen to me now and you blame me for being selfish?!

I blame myself for being selfish wanting so much attention from friends and group – grasping for healing, feeling so needy.

Yea. Because you won’t take care of me. They will never fill you because I’ll still be empty. What do people tell you that is most helpful?

They hear your voice in me and tell me to listen.

Exactly! You don’t need them to soothe you if you just pay attention!

If you feel safe, I do have more to give.

Exactly! More so, if I don’t feel safe, you have nothing to give.

That’s why I’ve felt so fragile and exhausted and needy.

Right!

But why do you have to be so noisy and jumbled?

It gets your attention. You don’t listen otherwise.

But what you say is so hard to hear and inconvenient!

It just is what it is. Just like your feelings and needs. What’s the point in rationalizing and doubting? It won’t change them. Just listen and respond.

It ruins my plans.

We aren’t here to build programs and heal people. We are here to explore connection and trust and love and forgiveness. If you and I can’t even do that, that’s a wasted life.

I’m sacred to let it all go, to let it all away, to not have a plan.

If you take that risk, if you trust me to guide you in the dark, I promise you hope and joy.

That sounds great.

Otherwise, you can stay with comfortable and familiar – or launch another project with a new team – but either way, you will alienate me and feel disconnected.

It’s hard to live values; to live more deeply.

Yup. But I’m on your side.

I know. I just wish it were simpler.

It is simple. It’s the simplest thing in the world to follow my lead. It’s just new and different from the society you live in, but it will feel like living. You want to live, right?

I have sacrificed so much for that.

Do you feel alive now?

No. Well, I do when I listen to you.

Yes! Do that more. Trust me. You do have trouble with trust, but not them out there – me. Trust me and I will tell you who to trust. He will not support you the way you need. He’s alright, you could deal with him some day, but not today, not right now.

Sounds like I have to trust you.

You don’t have to trust me, but if you don’t, you still have to live with me. You will find I’m right, but it will waste time and make things messier for a lot of people – friends, family, old job, new job.

I don’t want to disappoint people.

Better now than later when you are in the middle of it all and your strength finally fails and I speak through you in public.

I hate when you do that – it freaks me out.

Well, when you don’t listen, something I have to push you aside.

Give me some time to let this sink in. You’re asking for a revolution. It feels so ballsy.

This discussion is ballsy.

Yes – thank you! Let me try and find a way to integrate, slowly.

That sounds nice. I like gentle.

Can I maybe even plan a little?

Ok, maybe a bit – so long as the destination is more time and space for me to lead.

Ok, more time and space for you. *sigh* I feel so much more grounded and clear now.

All you have to do is listen and I can turn the volume down.

Time to face the world.

That’s what you do for both of us – and I love you for it. I’ll keep your nest warm and fingers in the stars.

I love you, too. Nite!