In dreams (Part two – The realization)

I took my broken heart and left Mom for the day. I realized just how wounded her words had left me, and how much I was yearning for her love and recognition. Still, to this day, no matter the mantra and how strong or how weak I’ve become, everything is still the same, including me. Coming back over and over, at times I felt like a glutton for punishment that just wouldn’t and couldn’t stay away. I’d probably tell you that you are insane if it was you telling me that story (not really though and I’m pretty understanding of the strangest things), but it isn’t you, is it now…it’s me. I’d still say the same and I guess it makes me a little crazy. I’ve always gladly owned it and who wants to be like everyone else haha. The extent of which obviously varies at times. Joking aside, nothing has changed, the wounds never closed and I continued to chase her love, wanting and hoping to be her daughter some day. A love that was unreachable, a love I once painted in an outcry of pain.

I know there have been times when I was so angry and hurt that I wished I could just walk away. This was one of those times and another desperate need remained unanswered. Another run against that thick wall that didn’t even shake the foundation. It remained as always, solid, without a crumble and reserved. I knew that no matter how many times I might run up against it, it might never be in my power to just walk away and quit trying. Did I really want to? The bond has always been very strong, but mostly one sided. As time passes it becomes clearer and clearer that Mom won’t change. She is set in her ways, but recently did change for a moment, being so sick and thinking that she was going to die. That seems long past now, and she has returned to her usual self. No lesson was learned on her part, no near death realization, no acknowledgement, no gratitude. “You wanted to be here, right, nobody forced you to come” she says and therefore washes her hands of any feelings.

I thought of the beautiful flower bouquet that my girlfriend brought Mom the other day. Beautiful, big yellow roses, a truly beautiful display of ten blooming heads. She was over the moon for her flowers and has talked about them each day since. Apparently everyone else was overly excited about the flowers as well, and many compliments have found their way to Mom. I should be happy that she found something to take joy in as it is rare these days and all should be well, right? But it isn’t. I’m competing with ten roses, as silly as it might sound. You see there is this little girl that had to grow up way too fast, me, who has lost her Dad and Mom at the same time, one physically and the other emotionally. One little girl who has been bringing Mommy flowers on numerous occasions and who makes sure that Mommy has something beautiful and pretty to look at. A genuine act on my part that has mostly gone unnoticed, although she wants to keep them around for another day when they begin to wilt. Compliment enough, right? Did I really do it because I wanted her thank you? All of a sudden I found myself feeling jealous and hurt about the beautiful yellow flowers. Absurd but true. Again, I felt as if I was running up against that wall, never being able to do anything right. Just like nobody had forced me to come to Germany, nobody had forced me to buy the flowers. I imagined how nice it would have been, had she liked my flowers as much as her beautiful yellow bouquet. While in thought I felt embarrassed to think such thoughts, but it also brought the realization that things can’t go in like this. That I need to watch after myself and protect my heart if Mom couldn’t do it herself. Crazy enough to think that a colorful array of tulips couldn’t compare with the beautiful roses, but it was how I felt. I knew that it wasn’t the flowers, but the recognition, the gratitude, her approval and the acknowledgement that I was seeking. Still now, in my fifties, I was hoping to do something right in her eyes, but the praise, the pride or whatever else it was that I was hoping for never came. Why….because I DID IT and in her mind I left her behind and I’m flawed. Aren’t we all? It’s not even the point poor Mom and sadly but true, sometimes you make me feel like I want to turn away. Some have said that your behavior doesn’t deserve my love, but I keep coming back. Once again, that is not for me to judge, and I will continue to give you my love freely, unconditionally and because I want to. Whatever you might think, the bond between a Mother and a Daughter is forever, no matter how many times you push me away. But something has to and is about to change…

“Unreachable Love” a painting.

As a new week dawns

I’ve never slept so miserably as I have lately. I can sleep through storms, doors slamming from the wind, anything really, but not anymore. I’m woke most nights and last night was no different. My foot was hurting badly from a pressure system moving through. I tried to ignore it for the longest, hoping I would fall asleep, but that never happened. I finally got up and applied some pain gel. It’s still wrapped up and feeling a bit better. Then my ear itched like crazy inside and once again I got up to find some careful relief with a Q-Tip. The winds are howling again this morning and the allergy game is peaking once more, which explained the itching ear and eyes. Finally at 5:30AM I decided it was enough and I’m up to welcome this week.

I know there are many factors contributing to my restless nights, and it seems I get so exhausted every other night, that I pass out eventually. I’m trying hard to do the best I can, but for the first time I’m starting to see the psychological effects the past nine weeks have had on me. I know that I’m strong, that I’m fighting an incredible battle, that I’m traveling this amazing journey, one that continues to mold and stretch me into the next dimension, but dang… Most days I do embrace the pain, where I want to feel every emotion, and be aware of the transformation that is happening right before my eyes, and then there are days where I feel that it will break me. I know, I’m human and everyone and everything has it’s limits. I’m careful and I’m watching closely. I am not willing to let this change me for the worse. I guess you could say that I worked hard to earn my stripes, my every wrinkle and my every gray hair. Those are the physical, more obvious signs, but I also worked hard for the inner, more hidden signs. It is my life experiences that contributed to both, the outer traits, but also the inner workings that make me tick and who I am these days. There is always more to learn, there is always time to grow. If we do it right, we remain open minded and embrace both, the happy experiences as well as the challenges. We realize that we are never done, and that we merely achieve different levels of wisdom. We also have choices and input of what we allow to grow or destroy us. I’m careful and I’m watching.

Being up so early gave me time for a little meditation and to reflect on the laughter, challenges and choices this week will bring. I also got to witness a beautiful sunrise from my window and a bird of peace flew right through the frame. Can you see it? Sign enough for this weeks mantra and motivation.

I’m taking the day off from Mom with mixed emotions, but I have to.

In dreams (Part 1-The pain of it)

I haven’t written about Mom in a while. I was going to give myself a break, as well as you by trying to get back to the subjects I usually write about. Fact is, that life really doesn’t work that way, nothing can be forced, or covered up as if it doesn’t exist. For a short while, we may manage to banish it from our memory, but in reality it is always there with varying levels of hold. I still believe that we can control the degree through “The power of now”, but soon or later the strongest warrior will have to say “What the heck am I trying to accomplish here” and kneel. Well maybe not in those exact words and terms, but for me it comes from a vision of my dreams. I don’t remember dreams often, so when I do it is important to recognize the message that comes along with it.

It’s been another week of compliments and setbacks. A few special moments came through with Mom either complimenting something I wore, a hair accessory, or…well, I think that was it already. And then, there are other times that sadly dominate everything, the moments when she attack’s my character. She can’t see the sacrifices that I have brought to the table for her. That my life is at a halt, that I’m removed from everything that usually makes my life. That my expenses continue while I’m away, and that I am not earning an income. She has no clue, but did I come here for her to understand such? Was I looking for gratefulness? Damn right to some extend, and a little appreciation couldn’t hurt. Not everything is a given in life, has she not learned this lesson at nearly eighty years of age? I could go on, but it’s starting to sound like a pity fest and I knew that this would happen way before I came. I knew my life would change drastically and this is not about me. So what is gong on?

I analyzed it yesterday and came to the following conclusion. Mom spoiled me with the occasional compliment. It was something she has done only once before as I knitted the first pair of socks. All of a sudden she likes something I had bought, something I wore, and didn’t degraded it in some way. It was progress in our relationship I thought, not that it’s existence would be based on having to be showered with compliments. But the human side, a cordial way was shining through, and I began to relate more to Mom. Perhaps it was the joy in finding similar traits, shared perceptions and common opinions. My downfall was that I wanted more. I wanted more of such interaction, a relationship between mother and daughter, about casual talks, opinions shared, loving advice here to be given, etc. I just wanted more and expectations came into play. I said it long before, that we are bound for disappointment if we bring expectations into the game, and don’t take those special occasions as what they are meant to be…precious gifts. Such point was proven again, and I got hungry, greedy for more. I’ve set myself up by asking a question of which the desired answer never came. Yet I hoped it would. “But Mom, I’m here, and I have been for the past eight weeks, doing everything I can for you, without much regard for my own life.” Her response: “What is it that you are doing all that much?” My response: A broken heart observed in silence.

Happy Mom wearing my hair accessory.

Fizzy Prosecco Party

It was that kind of evening. The day ended with a white grape / peach bubblebath and red wine out of a Pilsener glass. I’m sure Mom has wine glasses somewhere, but I relaxed and dreamt away anyways.

The mild evening sky looked like Marmelade and all the stars were hiding in the cool glasses of Prosecco…

Flip-Flop’ed feet were dancing through the sand, laughter echoed, hugs and stolen kisses…and all of sudden dawn was already here.

Power hat Saturday

Sometimes the fear won’t go away, so you’ll have to do it afraid. And with a power hat 😉

Caim

(Kyem) n.

The next clue arrived with the Scots Gaelic word Caim. It stands for sanctuary; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, to remind one of being safe and loved, even in the darkest times.

How I came across this, at this particular time is uncertain, but I felt like it was a message that I needed to hear, as well as something that I needed to tell others. While going through a great period of transformation, that includes darker periods, the empath within me never rests. Picking up on the energies of others is often draining, but also very rewarding if you can help. You have to learn to balance your gift of insight and intuition so you yourself don’t get weak. I did draw a circle around my body, and I bet some of you will as well after reading this. Before embarking on this journey, one of my tarot cards revealed that I would have to dig deep and pull out all the resources I could muster. That I would have to be strong and that nothing would be easy. It never said that I would fail and I know that I won’t, but I’m picking up resources, spirit signs and body circles wherever and whenever to fuel my motivation and keep me thriving. I might be lonely sometimes, but I am loved. I might be frightened sometimes, but I am safe. I might be in darkness sometimes, but I carry the light within.

Architecture from Rothenburg

Rothenburg in the mist

This place will always have a special place in my heart ♥️

Another doorway

I came across another doorway that compelled me to stop and take it’s picture. This one is in my hometown and I know that I have seen it before. Never until now did I think to stop and take it’s picture. I was on my way to see Mom and it was a day like any other. I had passed the door already, and I can’t explain what, or why I stopped to turn around and walk back to that particular door. I stood for a moment while looking at the handle. It appeared to be slightly pressed as if it was going to give way for the door to open. I waited, nothing happened, but there was something. I stared into the black keyhole holding my breath, nothing. If the owner would have opened the door, it would surely have scared the living daylights out of me.

I have passed the door a few times since, and I always pause and stare. Without trying to get all weird on those of you who might think it is my imagination and that I have gone completely bunkers, I have no facts to back this up. Nor do I have a reason to make it up. Maybe there is something my mind wants to see, something I need to believe right now, and maybe it is just a reminder that if one door closes, another is always ready to open. Whatever it might have been, I believe there was a message for me to take away.

Fern and the antique door

Walking through the cobble stone alleys in Rothenburg, this old antique door caught my eye. I wonder about the stories and the people who lived behind these doors, and who live there now. What their life must have been like and what memories were made. Have you ever thought about the memories you are making behind your own doors? What would they be, would they be happy or sad and would you smile about them?

Doors like these can be found all over the city, and I love their historic charm. I think “Fern” did as well. I have been taking several pictures of old doors recently and I wonder if there is a sign all together in that meaning. I have always appreciated them, but never felt compelled to photograph them. I wonder….

A Zen Moment

These were the actual colors of a sunset I got to see last year. I was lucky enough to witness it’s glory, and the timing was perfectly synchronized as I was driving home from work. A little earlier or minutes later, and I could have easily missed it, but luckily not so, and the universe saved a little magic for me that day.

This morning a reminder of such memory flashed on my Facebook account and the sight captured my heart just like it did the first time. Of course seeing it in person was magnified and even better, but this picture comes pretty close and is worth sharing. What stands out from looking at it besides the beauty of the sheer sight, was the way it made me feel.

It was a while ago that a interest sparked about Buddhism. I related to many of the beliefs and teachings, the way of being and a way of life. I believed in Nirvana, of changing my stars and my way of thinking. To be optimistic and always keep hope alive. To believe in the good of all mankind and to only judge when proven guilty. And not even then most of the time, as judgement is not for me and we often don’t know all the reasons to accurately form an opinion or judge someone’s behavior. I started to believe in each other, that we all have something to bring to the table. Those foundations had always been within me, but were ready to reach new depths. I had already found my still in Mother Nature, but my senses to see and hear deepened. I witnessed more of the simple things, a flower, wildlife, clouds, rocks, branches and other things that could be a part of some sort of project that would magically come together at a time it was meant to reveal it self. It always did, and most of the time I didn’t know why I felt so compelled to collect something until a later time when a beautiful project came full turn as if the piece was always meant for it. I was always tickled pink and overcome with joy when it happened. To create something with my own hands, no matter how simple it might have been. I already felt guided back then, guided to pick up that piece, somehow knowing that I would need it later.

I became more still within at that time. I felt more relaxed and more at peace, although life with all its troubles and curve balls remained the same. I know that I was going through the various steps of spiritual awakening, and the one I enjoyed the most was the third step and the journey of discovery. (I’ve wrote about all the steps under the tag of spiritual awakening, just in case you care to read how they applied to me). It was quite the journey and each step brought special meaning. My perception had changed already and I was seeing and hearing things other couldn’t. I seemed to be more in tune, and was seeking to understand the why’s and what had happened.

It is hard to put into words, but having arrived at this kind of attention and being in tune with my surroundings is something I’m very grateful for. It gives me the greatest pleasures to witness those things. To be able to pause and take a moment without being so caught up that I wold rush by and miss the moment. I’m grateful that these things have become a priority in my life and that they bring so mich bliss and joy. That my mind constantly searches for such moments, whether it be signs from my spirit animals, Mother Nature with its beauty or even oracle cards and tarot. That I’m ok with that they are different than what most others would consider exciting and that I’m not afraid to stand up for their meaning, even if it means that I have to stand alone. Yep, I think that trees are beautiful and magnificent.

Being able to witness this beautiful sunset was such a Zen moment for me and here is what the dictionary has to say about Zen.

Zen = relaxed and not worrying about things that you cannot change.

A form of Buddhism, originally developed in Japan, that emphasizes that religious knowledge is achieved through emptying the mind of thoughts and giving attention to only one thing, rather than by reading religious writing.

Giving attention to just one thing is we’re I found my Zen and where my peace was finally found. It was then that the load became lighter although the struggles stayed the same and didn’t just magically disappeared. I believe it was a major shift in how I see the world, my experiences, the tests and lessons, the good and the not so good, the simplicity’s that bring the greatest joy and the more is less concept these days. I’m grateful for that experience and for falling in love with a tree, a beautiful flower, a little critter and sometimes a magical sunset. I’m grateful to be a dreamer at heart.