Auspicious day of wonder in civilization.

Moving through and flowing with ease, there is a frequency unmatched to what was previously known. Could it be true that our magnificence is as calm as a mighty tree or as miraculous as the hatching of a bird?

All of the previous was but a single moment categorized and filed away as tattered and worn. A reference but nothing else. Useful but also recognized as a story and an interpretation effected by societal and cultural teachings of old.

In this moment, air fills the lungs with the breath absorbed by all. The elements defined and the essence undefined.

The essence of personal civilization is to be at one with the self to ascend and become the previously unexplained.

The relief felt when writing blog posts recording the journey of my life during these years is unmatched. I started at first with an audience in mind. And now that I know only a couple of people might read my posts out of curiosity or courtesy, I feel a freedom as if I am writing only for myself. If I were to write for someone, it would be for my children so that they can know how a parent can feel and function on at least a minimal level.

It is unknown the effects of this writing but the purpose would be to courageously communicate so that I may be the essence of civilized joy and prosperity. And in that courageous communication, I will channel healing streams of grace so that at least one other being may experience loving kindness. Simple.

Upon my arrival home from a day spent indoors at an office where I met each task as it arose with intuitive wisdom, the thought entered my mind, “What am I to do with my time?” There is no anxious dog to greet me, only a couple of calm feline companions. I greeted them cheerfully and opened the door so they could explore the back yard. And then the question arose, “What will I do if my essence does indeed change from anger and fear to that of civilized joy and prosperity?” I sit here and feel free.  A freedom from the need to control and lash out. A freedom from obsessive cleaning. A freedom from checking for messages regarding a late-day request. A freedom from whirling dervishly about in a frenzy of perlexing madness. Ridiculous.

Wilson, the male cat, leaps through the greenery at the side of the house as a chipmunk chitters and teases him. Wilson’s ears are perky and his eyes wide. He seems comfortable and not in need of anything other than to experience nature and the texture of the grasses and other plants.

Tiramisu, the female cat, sits calmly in the ferns at the perimeter of the yard against the fence. She is a bit more timid but I’ve noticed in the past few weeks, she ventures out toward the back of the yard. If she hears something out of her comfort zone, she rushes back to the open door propped for her to safely go inside when she feels the need.

I feel grateful for the grace of the moment.

I sit here in the apartment leased one year ago. Much of the stuff has either been donated, packed into my car or will have new homes by the end of the month. The energy feels neutral. As if a project is near completion but absent from judgement.

To summarize the experiences: I gained the courage to walk with wildflowers.

Yesterday, the trip from Bellevue to Minneapolis revealed inspiration from the “On Being” podcast and much more as the voice recorder filled up hour after hour of introspective thoughts and musings. The podcast that inspired me most was that of Michael Longley, an Irish poet. His lyrical expression moved me and set the tone for the travels of the day. And the interview with Angel Kyodo Williams triggered me with her reliance on labels to continue with her victimhood. Angel’s words triggered an awareness in me and a compassionate empathy. To give pain and suffering to a societal ill, is to lift a burden of the soul.

On and on. Mile after mile.

The voice recordings labeled June 2a, June 2b, June 2c, June 2d, June 2e, June 2f, June 2g, June 2h. I rambled. Paused. Rambled again in thought, words and moving along the highway. (HIGH way)

I felt stuck and not as ease with a question posed to me over the past week, “What did you like to do as a child?” This perplexing question, when asked of a person who has been searching for love only through doing what others ask of her, leads to sadness and searching. For a person who only recently started to create healthy boundaries, it is a mountain as high as the sky.

“What did you like to do as a child?” “What brings joy to your heart?”

Hmmmm. Not sure if one is worthy of such lavish but simple treats. But that would be the easy way out. To simply dismiss the question. But instead, I embraced the challenge.

Perhaps the answer lies  in the sentences above. Perhaps the answer is to the question, “What did you like to do as a child” is communicate through voice and words! I loved to talk and sing and express myself through dance and now I express this with the practice of blogging.

Excuse the metaphysical tangent…

There was a class led by Cyndi Dale at Normandale Community College titled, “Energy Medicine.” And in one of the first classes she introduced the class to the “clairs:”

• Claircognizance – intuitive knowledge
• Clairvoyace – intuitive vision
• Clairaudience – intuitive audio or hearing
• Clairsentience – intuitive knowing by feeling
• Clairsalience – intuitive smell
• Clairtangency – intuitive knowing by touching
• Clairtaction – intuitive touch
• Clairgustance – intuitive taste
• Clairempathy – intuitive feeling of emotion
• Claireloquence – intuitive communicating
• Clairessence – intuitive embodiment

A few were added to the list above after referencing a post by Emily Matweow OkinHealth. The gift of clairaudience has been observed most often by me throughout my life so perhaps, a form of that gift can transcends into that which gives purpose and meaning to daily life. Utilize the gift of clairaudience to hear that which screams and begs to be revealed through words and actions. Utilize the gift of clairaudience to intuitively communicate that which is needed on behalf of loved ones, friends, family, colleagues and employers to manifest what they need to thrive and survive in this physical plane.

The question changes to: “What gift, when shared with the world, brings you to your essential self?” The essential self may not be a  joyful person. Perhaps the essence of self is civilized, serene, passionate, or withdrawn. No judgement. Simply be the essence of the self. Whatever that may be. For to tell all that joyful happiness is the only way to be, is false and misleading. It is a misinterpretation.

Prior to this awareness, there was a feeling of stagnance and inability to move forward. But now, with innate wisdom and grace, the question is what needed to change. Not the answer. There was no need to change and feel stagnant or unworthy in order to answer the question. I had the power to change the question into something with a bit more relevance and evolutionary.

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I watched a video posted by a couple of friends. It was a video of Terry Crews titled “Speak Up” which prompted the following posts:

More than anything. I want to speak up. Speak out. Encourage others to change their lives by sharing their stories. And to allow the courage and strength to enter into their body, mind and soul – TO KNOW THAT YES, YOU ARE WORTHY.

I come home to a place where I am emotionally neglected. I come home to a place where I have to be fearful of my physical existence. Where sleep is not peaceful because I fear being violated constantly. I come home to my spirit and mind and body each moment  not feeling and knowing love and acceptance. I come home to something I know can be different but search, search, search for the strength and courage to finally accept that I am worthy. That is my number one purpose in life right now, to finally realize that I am unconditionally loved by a source within me.

It is not a pity party. It is not dwelling in victimhood. It is a quest for freedom. And freedom shall ring in my heart. Yes it shall. And NO this does not give you permission to try to fix me or pity me or feel sorry for me in any way. It is not a pass for you to sell me something or turn me into a pawn for your “cure” or “treatment.” No it is not. For I am finished for paying for the cure and paying for the treatment. There must be some other way because nothing. None of that has had any effect. It may be that the only freedom bell is for me is to scream and shout and stomp my foot on the ground and say enough is enough. I will not be the one to give flowers or gifts in hopes that I may be loved some day. I will not be the one that will pay hundreds or thousands of dollars in hopes of knowing I am worthy.

Why can’t he or she go away? Why must I always be the one to take action? Why can’t I stay here and realize my freedom fully? Why can’t I place my stake here in my space and say enough is enough and then demand that my abuser leave immediately?

Why can I not speak up and be heard?

I can. And I will.

Toward the end of the trip yesterday, I asked the question, “How does one heal from an entire lifetime of not experiencing or knowing love?” How is it possible? If one was neglected since conception and born into a family that was not capable of loving the child and then torn away from almost every source of love the child had a chance to experience love in order to survive and thrive with. How?

The tears flowed I did not expect an answer but I got one a few minutes later. I looked to a sign on the side of the highway which read “George 12” as in the exit ramp to the city of George was 12 miles away. I cling to signs in time of needs. And that sign gave me the answer I was looking for. George is my “Super G” a grandfather figure who came to me months ago to communicate that he, given the chance, would be here with me as I go through a rebirth. As an infant and then mature woman. He would protect me from everything and love me unconditionally. As he would have if he had been with me in person as a small child but was unable to, due to circumstances predetermined. I trusted this “Super G” grandfather figure and thanked him. And then I let him go so I could integrate and assimilate this essence of unconditional acceptance and love.

And then I realized it may be that the Source was the one from which this essence of myself arises. A powerful yet undefined essence that I search for. A breath. A particle. A minute realm of reality to which I had been blocked.

Freedom rings.

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As it should be, we manifest reality instantly. Just as I write this, I find myself surrounded by love. I visited with a dear friend this afternoon and was blessed with the presence of my sons for dinner. Absolutely amazing people all round me. Tomorrow will be the same. I ride the bus each morning and arrive at an office filled with kind, gentle, caring geniuses. Each of them carry out tasks each day that completely humble me. All of them sharing with the immediate world, their gifts with grace.

For all this, I am grateful. Just as I am grateful for each element defined and undefined. I am grateful for this moment and the ability to share my thoughts through the motion of touching the pads of a keyboard and having them form words which travel through to anyone who would care to read them. An I am grateful for you, for the individual who takes the time to read my writing.

Thank you. I am humbled by you and how you are able to carry on each and every day through every experience unique and common.

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OK. I am finished. What is the opposite of angry? Calm? Happy? I’ll go for calm. But I would love to stay passionate about the topic of speaking out. Only two to four people read my posts anyway. So none of this makes any difference. I’m done.

Self serving? Yes. Sometimes it’s ok to enjoy dessert first. To know the unknown with curiosity is the quest. But with dessert first, the discovery is preceded with sweetness. Much like someone who starts a serious criticism with a compliment and then the criticism seems less harsh. Much like taking time to think about the words to be spoken first. Focus on how they can be communicated in the most effective way.

Although one might argue the point that blunt serves a purpose as well. True.

That was a digression from the pain I have been experiencing full force over the past few weeks after my daughter introduced the concept of daughters of narcissistic mothers. I have some narcissistic tendencies that have most likely damaged my children. And for that, I am truly sorry. I ask for the help of angels, masters, archangels, gurus, teachers and benevolent beings from all dimensions to assist my children with the healing that will help them to know they are loved. I am sorry that I was not able to love them the way they needed to be loved.

No excuses. I take full responsibility for my absences, my indulgent tirades, my unrealistic expectations, my irritability, my lack of compassion, my inability to empathize due my stubborn blindness and my lack of mature communication. I own it all. It is on my shoulders, the burden which the pain resides. And in my heart, I swell with sadness.

On the flip side I also honor the full acceptance, love, encouragement and current work I am doing to heal my inadequacies. For I am the source of my own healing. I seek that which will help me to expand and channel the exponential beams of grace to shine on my children. And if children learn by example perhaps somehow I will show them they are worthy to love themselves and be ok with who they are.

May my children know they are pure light and love. That their brilliance may have been dimmed by my darkness but I see them and want to remind them of their divinity. I cannot change them but I can be the source of my own evolution that will hopefully help them somehow.

I’ve got the work ethic and the passion. I now apply it with a full heart and lion-like courage and tiger-like strength and fluid resonance.

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Time folds upon this moment like an accordion of stardust mixed with song.

Back into my body, I reside and cry the tears of so many moments lost. Of so many moments filled with misinterpretations and disgust. From this moment on and from this moment back, there is only the intent of loving kindness, patience and everything my children need and needed from me. I give them the gifts allowed now by the admission paid in full.

I want to be real. And I am. I want to be in touch with my feelings. To know sadness, joy, disgust, anger, confusion, delight. And I want to share them openly and honestly. And in that, may the present be the gift received by innocence.

Alone, I have found truth. There it was with every rotation of the wheels on the highway between there and here and here and there. Most recently, I forced myself to make the trip from Minneapolis to Bellevue. Why should I leave a comfortable space where the days and nights go on and on with a gray neutrality mixed with sporadic moments of hopeful joy? Why? Because it is my purpose to bring myself to a humble place where I succumb to the pain of the children. And finally accept my purpose which is to lift the pain from the shoulders  of my chidren and carry it myself. It was not their burden to carry, it was mine.

There were many, many good times. But the shadows of the negative may have erased that which was only captured in a photography. For the truth was between the photos.

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I spent time with my sister today. We spoke of how the revelation of being in a home dictated by a narcissistic parent lifts a great burden off out shoulders. The anger, sadness and disgust with ourselves no longer resides in our hearts. THIS IS HUGE!! I don’t even know how to explain it other than to compare the feeling to the snow melting in the sunshine to reveal the spring flowers.

This post is something positive about myself, so if you’re NOT into stories of thriving vs. surviving then I suggest you move on because I only want support, encouragement and love. ONLY.

The transformation over the past year has been so dramatic, I don’t even know where to start other than to say a year ago I was in search of peace. And twelve months later I feel peaceful, joyful, prosperous and grateful.

The most recent experience revealed itself today during a 5-minute conversation i was offered a position I could have only dreamed about previously.

Pause.

Smile.

And so it is.

You see, when a person chooses truth, courageous communication, generosity and allows angelic beings to do their thing, all is healed. When a person acknowledges that the source of all is within and to allow alignment with source then the light shines in miraculous and amazing ways.

In this present moment. I am one with the source within. I feel open heart gratitude for all the guides, angels, archangels, masters, gurus and teachers that help me.

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An update: The position has since dissolved.  I create my reality through my state of mind. So I am peaceful with the development. A bit sad that once again self sabotage was in action. A bit less powerful than previously but it’s still there.

I’ve been listing to the book “Will I ever be good enough? : Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers.” by Karyl Mcbride which has been interesting. Can’t say it is joyful but it certainly changes my vibration to a more peaceful frequency. There are exercises toward the end that encourage me to write down my favorite activities and passions. You see, when a person grows up with a narcissistic mother, the ability to know what I like to do and what kinds of things I am good at are tucked away deep inside. I am working now to connect and recall something that I truly like to do. Not something that I was trained to like or was told I like or was good at, therefore I must do it in order to feel loved.

Hard work! Yes indeed. It’s exhausting. I observe my young self and try to recall what I liked to do. Sing. I liked to sing. But why did I like to sing? If it was a means to escape reality, then it wasn’t something that I liked, it was a way to survive the moment.

Ever since I was an infant, I don’t thing anything I did was acceptable. My mother wrote in my baby book “she is very sensitive.” I cried when I needed something. That’s what babies do. They communicate their needs.

So maybe that’s what brings me joy, communicating courageously. And thus this blog.

I’ve come to accept all with grace. With the help of benevolent beings, I transformed that which cast a shadow into that which creates light from within. And with acceptance comes the strength to enforce boundaries through compassionate communication. One does not need to feel loved or be loving. One is the essence of grace and can make choices based on the knowing that we are all grace. For grace transcends love because it is that of benevolent beings. Warriors and mighty characters each and every one.

Recently, the revelation of mind-blowing psychological abuse and neglect surfaced. One would think a 56-year-old woman would have figured out the nonsense and dealt with it long, long ago but it seems that the shit pile is infinitely deep. Much like the ocean, I have yet to discover the greatest depths and when I go deeper, I discover truths so magnificent, I almost want to keep it a secret because I don’t think anyone will believe it.

Grieving the loss of myself is deep, wide and at times unknown until the moment it is discovered.

The stages of grief were once identified by Elizabeth Kübler-Ross as 1. Denial 2. Anger 3. Bargaining 4. Depression 5. Acceptance. Seems like I went through all of those within a span of a couple of hours this morning. And yesterday and the day before and the day before that. The most recent observation into the grief cycle manifested this way: The thoughts circled round and round with regard to my son not having a job which I turn on myself. It must be my fault that he doesn’t have a job, I must have done something to deeply hurt him that he has a scar that prevents his self-sufficiency. (He is perfectly capable of working if he chooses.) Well, it surfaced as denial on my part. Denying the fact that I love my son and have done so much for him and with him to help him heal. And then the bargaining began. Self-destructive thoughts like, “the only way to rid my son of my misinterpreted actions is to cease to exist.” My bargain was to end my life so that he may have a life. Depressed and feeling worthless. And then the anger swelled into a wave that turned into me stomping around the house exclaiming, “It doesn’t make a fucking bit of difference what I do so I’m not going to do anything at all! I’m not going to empty the dishwasher or go for a bike ride or a walk or exercise or go to work tomorrow or be nice to anyone or anything. I’m done!” I stomped down the stairs and moved onto the final stage of grief … acceptance. I accept the fact that perhaps I could do something small . . . gather the clean laundry and bring it upstairs.

The acceptance set in  . . . and this is the important stage that has never happened before. I accept and allow healing into my life.

In the laundry room, I gathered the clean articles of clothing and towels. Cleaned the lint screen. Tossed the green fuzzy lint gathered from the blanket I had dried into the trash. Noticed the trash was full but also noticed it was extremely light when I carried it upstairs with the basket. With each step my head cleared. I became a bit more like myself again. I became Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers.

Opened the door, threw out the trash and peacefully observed the dog next door who did not bark at me for once, he simply looked at me. A part of me wanted to say, “But why aren’t you barking at me like a savage beast like you usually do? I was ready to call 911 and videotape you and your violence.” But it didn’t happen. All was peaceful.

This cycle of grief happens regularly for me. I’ll be on this high that life is good, that I can be a contributing member of society. That I can be the essence of peaceful joy and prosperity. But then this other voice enters, like an epigenetic virus attached to my DNA. “Nope, you are a worthless piece of shit. How dare you think that you are better than anyone else. You are nothing and everything bad that is happening is your fault. You should never have been born. It is your fault that we are in this situation. Everything has been done for you and now you are ungrateful and think that you can do anything you want.”

As if the only way to be is to suffer. The particles of suffering attached to my DNA is loosening it’s grip with each and every eye-opening revelation.

The difference between now and the five and a half decades of grief cycles is that I’ve now recognized it for what it is. It’s simply a particle. A speck. A flea. All of which can be flicked off.  Is the antidote for the invasive particle invasion to pull the weeds and then plant seeds for the healthy variation? And when the healthy is planted, water it, fertilize it and expose it to sunlight?

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If our DNA remembers generations of information. then my quest is to reveal misinterpretations and give them back to the source. For instance, on my trip to Boston a couple of weeks ago, I rode the train to Salem where some of my ancestors had lived. I toured a place called the Witch House and another museum. There, I learned that children were seen as born with the original sin and were evil until they were cleansed. Completely ridiculous! Utterly mad! All children are of pure light and love. At what point did my ancestors believe otherwise? Fear? Religious teachings? What? WTF?

It doesn’t matter. I recognize it as ridiculous and a complete misinterpretation. The truth is, that all children are pure light and love. And so it is. I cleanse my DNA of all epigenetic misinterpretations of the truth now and forever. The layers and layers are now gone.

I’ve changed my mind with regard to the planting of healthy information, watering it and fertilizing it. Because fertilizer itself can be tainted. My DNA is lighter and shines brighter without anything planted. The essence of nothingness.

Thank you.

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I have since moved through this issue even further. Listened to the book, “Will I Ever Be Good Enough.” Yes, I AM good enough. Although, to be “good” is a judgement. I would rather simply be. And not be judged as good or bad. Just accepted as is.

To be able to speak of the past in a way that is neutral becomes important in day to day life. Rather than the manic depressive bipolar existence which seems sometimes the only way to survive, I reach a state of equilibrium. All this without medication and without any external source. It is a civilized manner of reciprocity.

“Narcissists are trapped in a wormhole of self-obsessed neediness, unable to truly give.” – Julie L. Hall, survivor; writer @ NarcissistFamilyFiles, HuffPo, PsychCntrl

Freedom and flight of heart was given to me as I a light-hearted chat that became insightful and ever so magnificent. “Have you read the Reddit feed titled ‘Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents’?”

“No.”

And then the traits of these adult children were revealed to me . . . ALL of which I could relate on many levels.

Wow.

“Oh my God!” “Oh . . . My . . . . God . . . !”

The next day was spent in deep research. A good amount of discernment is needed with this topic, as it seems to be a mixed bag of helpful survivor tips and whiny victim rants. It’s best to stick with that which empowers and uplifts. The articles and videos highlighted every aspect of my own childhood and what I have experienced as an adult. Not only am I a survivor, but shamefully, I also have narcissistic moments/days/weeks/years. Something I work on constantly to fix and apologize for to all my children, family and friends – and animal companions, co-workers, neighbors, guides, etc. A long list which I will be working on for the rest of my life.

A post-it note on my computer reads, “I look forward to knowing the unknown.” This recent revelation has set me free in ways I had never imagined. The breath comes more easily, the steps lighter, the light brighter, the slumber deeper, and more yet to be.

I crave to know and to be my true self, even if my true self is a bit narcissistic at times. Even if I am truly angry, cruel,grumpy, irritable, needy, stand-offish and snooty. Also joyful, pixie-like, childish, generous, peaceful and prosperous.

Great gratitude swells up from the inner cells of my heart and the inner particles of the essence of what I recall as something other than my previous self.

Through the beautiful souls channeled a grace leading to wholeness. Every step, every moment we guided one another.

What remains? A void filled with nothing but the willingness to leave it as is.

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Turn around and come down from the abstracted self and into Wendy Who Walks with Wildflowers.

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