Three are in the shower, three in the pool, and one’s gone home. She [again] didn’t feel comfortable with the sexually-infused banter of normal hormone-pulsing teen talk and the touchy-feely pushing-the-limits of truth or dare. And now, (I’m laughing as I type), they are all in the shower. Five girls, two guys, all in their bathing suits, a throbbing mass of laughter and hands shampooing someone else’s hair. I sip my lemon water, chew of this bowl of mixed dried fruits and nuts, and feel so unalarmed by my daughter’s budding sexuality and the openness of her relationships (I love her friends!) but got extremely unnerved by my now-teenage son watching some cartoon of two police men beating a baby and the mother to death and laughing.
The Freedom to Decide
They have freedom now to decide what is right and what is wrong. For the most part, I can’t decide that for them anymore. We will always be there, talking, sharing, disciplining, discussing our opinions and what Kobi and I think may be the higher information that will allow them to grow up straight. I can’t decide right and wrong for them. And positively, I cannot decide for them what is funny. That is theirs.
Maybe I’m looking at it from the morality standpoint and the ramifications I see as a mature human person who is mortified by violence. More so, horrified by our society as a whole (and my son and husband specifically) who view violence as a form of entertainment. I beg to differ.
I guess it’s like those comedy skits where you laugh when someone gets injured, or live, when you see someone fall, you sometimes laugh. Not because you are a cruel heartless person who takes pleasure from the pain of others but because you’re caught off-guard and a gut reaction to that shock may just be laughter, another way to expel a surge of unexpected energy. So, maybe my son laughed at the absurdity of seeing something you would never expect, something that dares to go way beyond the rules of acceptable and shocks your gut into saying, “No fucking way did that just happen!” and then you laugh.
I guess growing up and getting to know yourself, experiencing all that life exposes you to, being you in this world would be the common threads here. Common to my daughter’s development and friendships; common to my son’s choice of online entertainment (and the fact that I think he’s on for way too long); common to me growing into loving myself enough to listen to the multitude of my voices, which is where we’ll go next.
In My Sleep
So I had a dream in which I ate grilled zucchini, cut long-ways (it was a significant detail in the dream), and really enjoyed myself. My friend and teacher Dana helped me work through this dream. “What is your relationship with zucchini, Gabi?” Well, I buy it cuz it’s healthy and I know I should eat it and every week or so it get thrown away. I made it a few times for my family, and no one was happy to even taste it and then that cascade of would’s, should’s, shouldn’t’s, theirs and mine breaks loose.
Same with two dreams after in which the ladies in the store couldn’t help me find jeans in my size. They were chit-chatting and happy and busy and didn’t even see me. Not maliciously, they just didn’t see me. Not at all. “What’s your relationship with jeans, Gabi?” “Do you mean the part where I used to fit into them kind of relationship?” Oh, yeah, that.
What They Mean
The first one is about my on-going conversation of self-doubt, criticism and endless would’s and should’s. I live in this web of “I’m not doing enough” and create this constant internal stress around what I should be doing. The grand conclusion is for me to let go of what I think I should be doing and just do what I enjoy. I need to let that grinding tune of could-do-more fade into the background as I allow myself to enjoy whatever is, whatever I’ve decided to do, whatever feels right.
The second one, closely related to the first, is about me constantly seeking approval or help from the outside to fit into my own skin. How I was looking for those sales ladies, who could not even see me, to give me what I need to give myself. Do I love myself now that there is no way I can fit into those jeans that once defined me to myself as attractive, sexy, and hot? (I won’t waste your time by answering. We both know how this one ends)
Can I learn how to look within, at my size (physically and emotionally), at where I am right now and just sigh into that, happily? Can I look at those jeans at the bottom of a thick stack of pants that no longer fit me and smile at them, knowing that I am whole and beautiful and complete just as I am, without any need to change? Can I look at my size, which includes all the abilities, talents, fears, hang-ups, and attributes that make me me right now and love them?
My Life Lately
I’ve been within and with my life, with all in my deepest insides that needs to be cleaned and purified and let go of. I’ve been super involved with being in my kids’ lives and being there quietly and lovingly (Kobi is gone for 7 1/2 weeks and I’m it). I’ve been almost 100% offline and have learned to listen to my soul and follow the faint whisper (and sometimes the heated, screaming yells) where I need to forgive and let go. I’m reading again You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay and loving going through this process again. It’s good. It’s all good.
Speak. Or don’t. I love you. I’m here. I joyfully send this off to the Universe and pray that that energy creates more ripple of love and inner cleansing and introspective reaching for That Which Really Is what our lives are meant to be.
[I adore finding amazing photographer that supports what I want to say and feel great honor in sharing the phenomenal artist talents of others! Here are our geniuses of today’s post…]
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