Lily Rose
Beloved Grand Eagle
Rage terrifies me. In others, and in myself. It is the one area where I shy away in revulsion and dismay.
Yet .... it persists in dancing around me in a dark waltz.
~~
Recently, I re-wrote a seven year period of my life, changing the 'antagonist' of the story into a man who could be reached with love and attention and compassion. In my new story, he became a true father figure (he still had his dark demons). The writing of this story was both painful and joyful. It caused me to delve deep, and see the situation through adult eyes. No single person is 'all bad' or 'all good'. Within everyone, even the vilest, there can be found some redeeming qualities. While in 'this reality', he wanted me dead ... in my new one, he just wanted love. There is a theory that all possible scenarios actually exist in various dimensions. I like to think that my new story actually does exist. I remember both histories now, and I can love him for what he might have been. No fear exists here anymore. Only a soft sorrow that we could not have better connected.
~~
What sparks rage? I do not fear abandonment. I do not fear being unloved. For me, it would seem that rage is sparked by unjustness, unkindness, cruelty (conscious and unconscious) .....
The two areas that dance darkly in my nightmares are the two maternal areas ... my mother and my mother-in-law. I love them both deeply. I feel extreme compassion for the traumas they have endured, and empathy for their heart-pains.
I worked for my mother-in-law before I ever met her son. I fell in love with her. Everyone loved her. She was gentle and soft spoken and ran her business with sharp intelligence. This was in the 80's.
Fast forward through a lot of history, to the years between 2007-2012. We left our dream home in our dream land of Alaska to move back to help her on the ranch. We could not live with ourselves otherwise. We moved there with the agreement that my husband would be the foreman and earn a salary, which would offset a need to find a better job where we had been. He worked seven days a week and was at the beck and call of her needs. I became the ghost who had to stay near in case anything happened, and could not seek employment out of the valley as the nearest large town was 45 min away. I did not 'live' in that house. I existed. I lived with my small circle of friends and became part of the local grange. The alcohol consumption each night, the moods, so many issues.
And the worst issue of all ..... she did not pay him. For the first couple years we even covered the groceries (and she has food hording tendencies). For five years, he worked, and we used up the bulk of our life savings. Even when she ran her company, family members were expected to work for barely anything (I was a manager, and my data entry clerk made THREE times what I did, and I worked 60 hour weeks).
In 2009, my Mom had a brain aneurysm from her heavy drinking. I spent five weeks with her, then went up every month to help out. I was upset with her, but found great relief in being on a beautiful mountain away from the ranch. In 2010, my biological father died. In 2011, I gave an ultimatum to my husband ... I was done and I was leaving and I certainly expected him to come with me. His mom has three daughters and my Mom has one ... and she needed more help than I could give from all the driving.
We had almost nothing left but what we did have left, we sank into this move.
She has no concept of her actions, and she is in her 80's and it is not worth even expressing it. And I have no where to turn this ... coal of smoldering anger. I have reminded myself that we made our choice to stay as long as we did ... but we couldn't have left her alone, either. (One of the daughters did end up moving there well before we left).
~~
The anger with my Mom is more for her casual cruelty, and attitudes she was raised with. She has changed a great deal, though. My influence has altered her approach to keeping her land sacred (she removed almost all nasty chemicals and she is less inclined to murder the hard-working Spiders
). She is trying. And that is something to treasure.
I cannot regret our experiences with my mother-in-law, as it brought me here, and I have gained great insight and awareness. When there is barely any money, it is amazing to learn how much we are influenced by marketing to spend money on things we don't actually need.
But this dance ..... this long, dark, painful, bittersweet dance that whispers seductively to just let it all go, to fall into the darkness and remain there.
This .... this .. is when I seek the solace of Trees and magic and the joyful dance of Light and Self. Nature always soothes.
And perhaps one day, this dark dance will slow into a soft melancholy, and from there, something more gentle and more compassionate.
Life is a practice. We experiment and explore.
Listening and breathing and dreaming.
Being Love.
..... with Love and Gratitude (especially for feeling safe to make such posts!) ^_^
Yet .... it persists in dancing around me in a dark waltz.
~~
Recently, I re-wrote a seven year period of my life, changing the 'antagonist' of the story into a man who could be reached with love and attention and compassion. In my new story, he became a true father figure (he still had his dark demons). The writing of this story was both painful and joyful. It caused me to delve deep, and see the situation through adult eyes. No single person is 'all bad' or 'all good'. Within everyone, even the vilest, there can be found some redeeming qualities. While in 'this reality', he wanted me dead ... in my new one, he just wanted love. There is a theory that all possible scenarios actually exist in various dimensions. I like to think that my new story actually does exist. I remember both histories now, and I can love him for what he might have been. No fear exists here anymore. Only a soft sorrow that we could not have better connected.
~~
What sparks rage? I do not fear abandonment. I do not fear being unloved. For me, it would seem that rage is sparked by unjustness, unkindness, cruelty (conscious and unconscious) .....
The two areas that dance darkly in my nightmares are the two maternal areas ... my mother and my mother-in-law. I love them both deeply. I feel extreme compassion for the traumas they have endured, and empathy for their heart-pains.
I worked for my mother-in-law before I ever met her son. I fell in love with her. Everyone loved her. She was gentle and soft spoken and ran her business with sharp intelligence. This was in the 80's.
Fast forward through a lot of history, to the years between 2007-2012. We left our dream home in our dream land of Alaska to move back to help her on the ranch. We could not live with ourselves otherwise. We moved there with the agreement that my husband would be the foreman and earn a salary, which would offset a need to find a better job where we had been. He worked seven days a week and was at the beck and call of her needs. I became the ghost who had to stay near in case anything happened, and could not seek employment out of the valley as the nearest large town was 45 min away. I did not 'live' in that house. I existed. I lived with my small circle of friends and became part of the local grange. The alcohol consumption each night, the moods, so many issues.
And the worst issue of all ..... she did not pay him. For the first couple years we even covered the groceries (and she has food hording tendencies). For five years, he worked, and we used up the bulk of our life savings. Even when she ran her company, family members were expected to work for barely anything (I was a manager, and my data entry clerk made THREE times what I did, and I worked 60 hour weeks).
In 2009, my Mom had a brain aneurysm from her heavy drinking. I spent five weeks with her, then went up every month to help out. I was upset with her, but found great relief in being on a beautiful mountain away from the ranch. In 2010, my biological father died. In 2011, I gave an ultimatum to my husband ... I was done and I was leaving and I certainly expected him to come with me. His mom has three daughters and my Mom has one ... and she needed more help than I could give from all the driving.
We had almost nothing left but what we did have left, we sank into this move.
She has no concept of her actions, and she is in her 80's and it is not worth even expressing it. And I have no where to turn this ... coal of smoldering anger. I have reminded myself that we made our choice to stay as long as we did ... but we couldn't have left her alone, either. (One of the daughters did end up moving there well before we left).
~~
The anger with my Mom is more for her casual cruelty, and attitudes she was raised with. She has changed a great deal, though. My influence has altered her approach to keeping her land sacred (she removed almost all nasty chemicals and she is less inclined to murder the hard-working Spiders
). She is trying. And that is something to treasure. I cannot regret our experiences with my mother-in-law, as it brought me here, and I have gained great insight and awareness. When there is barely any money, it is amazing to learn how much we are influenced by marketing to spend money on things we don't actually need.
But this dance ..... this long, dark, painful, bittersweet dance that whispers seductively to just let it all go, to fall into the darkness and remain there.
This .... this .. is when I seek the solace of Trees and magic and the joyful dance of Light and Self. Nature always soothes.
And perhaps one day, this dark dance will slow into a soft melancholy, and from there, something more gentle and more compassionate.
Life is a practice. We experiment and explore.
Listening and breathing and dreaming.
Being Love.
..... with Love and Gratitude (especially for feeling safe to make such posts!) ^_^
