Happy Tuesday.
Yesterday was my daughter's birthday, so I decided to post today's blog about my Weekend Warrior moment today.
I survived! We survived! We are still on our bumpy ride, but it seems to be subsiding softly. Thank goodness, too. I've been learning a great deal about myself--especially within the last five days. I was given many, many, MANY opportunities to practice patience and perseverance while also executing some serious analytical skills to weigh in on a decision I hate making, because I know the impact it will have on my reality... That being said, one evening over the weekend was so poignant, it solidified what was evident with regards to the need of my family.
The Meltdown
Saturday was going to be my daughter's birthday and we were going to "do it up" big for her. We normally go crazy with decor for Nate's birthday, while on the other hand, opt for a more subdued pool party for Sumi's. But since Sumi has been feeling morose as of late (heartbreaking!) with the craze of life, we decided to make the party especially special.
Thursday was a day for cleaning, organizing and last minute scrambling. Jamie was going to be late coming home: a deadline. Big sigh. But, I totally get it!
As the clock pushed 11:00pm, my son came downstairs to ask if he could hang out with his girlfriend on Saturday, to which I had to deny his request, explaining that his sister's party was then. As he stormed upstairs and I asked him to come back downstairs to talk to me, he interrupted and told me to "Shut your mouth!"
At first, I was stunned. Who was this child speaking to me like this?? I went straight for my Guardian phone app and locked his phone. He knew better!
That's all it took.
The dam of emotion broke and my son had a full blown meltdown. I kept my cool and my composure and checked in on him periodically. His room, we consider, is quite safeguarded and I knew he wasn't going to get hurt.
I called in deep inner strength and I felt a chunk of myself fall into the abyss of meditation. I felt as though I was watching myself being thrown into this scenario--a quiet witness or a fly on the wall. I watched myself peacefully walk to my son's door and crack it open. Like watching a movie, I surveyed the room and took time to understand what my son was projecting.
He yelled barbarically (for his phone; for a new mom; etc.) over my demeanor and though I was not scared, my daughter was and she began to cry. She was scared for him; she was worried about him. I picked her and our dog, Vida, up and placed them both carefully in her room and turned her T.V. on. "It's okay, honey. Nate will be fine. We are all okay," I soothed.
The truth was that a part of me felt detached and the other part of me was beginning to not feel okay. I could feel my body starting to have a physical reaction; I felt that part of myself wanting to give in to the feeling of mania.
To counter this, I called Nate's dad, my ex-husband, and asked for help. I knew Jamie was not going to be home anytime soon and I had no idea when he would return.
While I made my way back to Nate's door to check on him, like an automation on repeat, he surprised me with a sudden burst through his bedroom door. He ran to my studio space across the hall and started pacing.
As he rummaged through my stuff, he exclaimed, "I need something!"
"Step out of this room, NOW!" I put my foot down authoritatively.
"KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK."
Nate's dad was at the door. I rushed downstairs to let him in and I could see he was ready to handle the situation. He went upstairs and escorted Nate down and out the door to his car.
I shut the door and locked it behind them.
Through my sidelight, I watched them drive off.
Silence.
It was at this moment that the impact of the last hour really sank in. I felt incredibly saddened, frustrated, and angry. No more was I separate in my thoughts. I allowed myself to assess my thoughts and feel what I needed to. I reflected, minute by minute, upon the evening's tribulations and I actually felt proud of my controlled composure in the entire matter. I didn't cry, though I wanted to, and I didn't give in to Nate and his demands, even though I knew it would immediately make him stop. I wasn't going to allow anyone to speak to me in that way. I have a terrible habit of being too nice, especially to the kids & I'll admit, they are the first ones that take advantage of it. But I wasn't going to allow anyone to walk all over me anymore--not even my kid--and I felt empowered. This was a HUGE step.
Of course, I also felt heartbroken that Nate decided to give in to his anger and cry out for so long. He is incredibly sensitive and sweet. He is also helpful around the house when he knows I'm unwell.
My thoughts were quickly interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I glance at my phone to see Nate's dad calling me.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry, Mommy," Nate sobbed.
"It's okay, Nate. But this behavior ends tonight. You're grounded." With quiet acceptance, he handed the phone back to his dad.
Sometimes the Signs from the Universe are Obvious
Soooo, I was offered a job the morning before that fiasco of a night. The job really lined up with my core values and my life's mission statement. It wasn't going to pay that well, but money isn't everything. If it were, I would just work in construction again where I was a financial success. The one problem with the job was that it was full time. And it became clear that even though Nate has made incredible progress since Christmas, he still needs me home more.
Moral of the Story
Lean into those spiritual tools you've been honing. You won't even realize their influence on your everyday life until you need it most.
If you'd like to understand how to see yourself as your soul experiencing life, much as I discovered I was doing, then I suggest reading, The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself by Michael Singer. It is a bit "wordy"; however, it carefully outlines the spiritual experience while here in Spirit school (aka: Earth).
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