Inner shift

I have definitely experienced a shift internally. I am quite enjoying it. I have increased intentional use of grattitude and positive manifestation to the point that now it occurs naturally in me every day. I feel different. I love me. I love life. I love everyone around me. I feel spiritual. I feel like I am developing new abilities. I am more intune with everything. I am more intuitive. My relationships are better. I can achieve anything.

Living Responsibly in an Irresponsible Society

I have this inner conflict. I feel a lot of people are irresponsible in many ways. I see a lot of people choosing ignorance. I feel like we have a responsibility to self, to our families, to each other and to the planet and I feel like a great majority of the population ignores these responsibilities.

I feel like people are irresponsible parents, unhealthy, disrespectful, selfish and wasteful. When I have these thoughts there is another voice inside of me that says I think I'm better than other people, that I'm being judgemental and not to impose onto people what I think they should be doing.

A new experience

After writing a letter to my mother in law and deciding that she and Marshall deserved to have her picture in Marshall's room, I realized that rather than printing a photograph, it should be picture made by me. I draw or paint very rarely and not very well, but I have always enjoyed it since childhood.

I've never painted a person before. I've painted mushrooms or flowers and almost always while looking at my subject or a picture of it.

What I experienced this afternoon can hardly be described here. I am documenting my experience for my future reference but I realize that the power of what happened, can really only be felt within me and may seem hard to believe.

I quickly found my sketchbook and I found a pencil but it really needed to be sharpened. I finally found a pencil sharpener but it didn't work and only broke my pencil. I tried sharpening the pencil with a knife but unsuccessfully. Feeling hopeless I then had the realization that I wasn't supposed to draw my mother in law, I was supposed to paint her. Doubting my ability to do this, I trusted what I was experiencing and went with it. I took down my paints and brushes and started to set up my space.

Next, I tried to find a picture of my mother in law. It was only after she passed away that we realized how few pictures we actually had of her. Few is not an understatement. I think I have about 3. I started looking for a picture of her on my computer. They were all on a dvd and not saved on my new computer so I started importing pictures from the disk. This was taking a long time so again, I had the urge to start anyway. I was feeling a lot of doubt again in being able to draw her without looking at her. My thinking mind told me this would be impossible, but I continued anyway.

In my jar of brushes, was a pencil. Trusting my experience I pulled the pencil out and started to draw. I started with her mouth. My thinking mind would have outlined the shape of her face, her jaw, planned proportions and placement of features but I pushed my thoughts aside and let the pencil move where it went. It took me from feature to feature and back again without rhyme, reason or planning by me. I doubted what was happening but continued to go with it out of curiousity. Sometimes things would pop out at me and get me excited which kept me going. Eventually, my nose started to run and I felt that was a sign to put the pencil down.

Now I knew it must be time to start painting. My hands chose colours without much thought from my mind. Looking back at my palette now, I realize every colour was used at some point. Again, not a conscience decision - that just happened. I didn't plan what each colour was for, but sometimes when I picked it up, I recognized what it must be for. I started with her mouth again, combining colours, sometimes doubting what was happening but letting my thinking mind go.

Profound

Out of curiousity, I clicked on August 2005 in my old archives to see what I used to write about nearly 4 years ago now. I was amazed by the following post:

Meditation class last night was AWESOME! The Buddhist monk that guides the class emphasized the importance of changing our attitude, looking through the eyes of others, making others more important than self. I created inner peace within myself and then I sent it out to my various co-workers that I struggle with sometimes, my sister, my family, my mom-in law (who I get along with very well, but who really needs some inner peace right now). I sent it out to everyone i could think of and then visually blanketed the entire planet with inner peace. It was fun and humbling. When I walked out, my mom-in law was waiting for me outside so we walked home together. That was nice. She carries a lot of pain with her and I think she will be one of my biggest teachers in healing. She tells me a little more each day, I hope I can help her.

My mother in law passed away over a year ago now. Right after Marshall was born she became quite angry at her son and myself because of the way I was mothering our new baby boy. She wanted him to be circumcised, she wanted his tongue to be clipped because of his tight tongue tie, she wanted me to hold him less so I wouldn't spoil him, she insisted I fed him too much and that was why he cried so often and why he didn't want to be with anyone else. She even stopped coming home for more than a week and wouldn't visit her new baby grandson.

Finally, my husband called his mother at her boyfriend's home. He asked her what was so serious that she would refuse to see her new baby grandson and share in our joy and support our struggles with this high needs baby. They made up, I was not involved. A few days later, she was diagnosed with a small but very aggressive brain tumour in her brainstem. I was still very mad at her. I never got to say my piece. I never got to defend myself or vent my frustration. Now this lady that I had loved and enjoyed living with had hurt me deeply and because she was dying and fighting her last fight, I had to pretend everything was okay. Inside me, everything was not okay. She died that November. I never got over my anger.

Recently I had received some therapeutic touch from a new client/friend. She laid her hands on my shoulder before she began. Immediately I felt this overwhelming discomfort in my throat. I sat queitly and said nothing. I wanted to sweep my hand over the area, but I sat queitly. This healer started moving her hands around my body. She immediately returned to the area above my shoulders in front of my throat and made her self busy sweeping and sweeping this area. After the session, she asked me what I had experienced. I told her about the sensations I had been experiencing before she started sweeping the area in front of my throat. She asked me what I thought that was? I told her that I didn't want to try and guess, I didn't want to talk about it and honestly, I didn't know - and didn't want to try and figure it out.

The next day the healer called me on the telephone. She had been thinking a lot about our session exchange and asked me again what might have caused the discomfort in my throat. Again, I refused to try and figure it out. She asked me "Did someone close to you pass away before you had a chance to say something to them that you needed to say?" Immediately, I knew who and what she was asking me about. Yes, someone had. I told her about my mother in law and how angry that I was and how I had been shocked at my lack of sadness during her struggle and death. I had gone to counselling to deal with my guilt surrounding my lack of grief and my anger towards her. I decided during that phone call that I would write my mother in law a letter and tell her everything that I needed to say once and for all. This session was months ago now and I still haven't written my letter to her.

Dear mother in law,

I'm sorry for everything negative that you had to experience in your life. You had many hardships, so many that it was hard for you to focus on your many blessings. Despite your struggles you did leave to this world a beautiful gift - your son. I love him so much. I admire and adore him. Thank you for loving me and accepting me to be a desireable wife for your only boy. I know he was probably more of a partner to you at times in your life than a son and having a son of my own now, I can only imagine how incredibly important it must have been to you that he find a perfect wife. Despite our different parenting styles and views on life and the world, I know that these opinions were shaped by our own experiences. I know that underneath your immense sadness that you carried with you for most if not all of your life, there was a wonderful person. I am not angry anymore. I don't hate you. I miss you. I wish you could be here to share in our lives and to love and be loved by your grandbabies. I will put a picture of you in Marshall's room and tell him that you were his dada's mama, and that you are looking down on him and that you love him just the way he is. I'm sorry that my pain and anger took away from our last months together. I should have done more to ease your pain. I promise to take care of our boys, with your guidance.

Love Moon Watcher

3 is the magic number, ya it is, it's a magic number

Blind Melon has a song all about 3. I believe it was written for children. I discovered it while living out east in a party apartment that had 3 bedrooms but I was one of about 7 who lived there. It was a great time of my life.

Marshall is a few months shy of 2. He's so amazing, words can't describe him. He's so bright, gentle, sensitive, loving. I'm very proud of him and who he is becoming. I've worked really really hard to help be a compassionate little man and so far it would appear to me that he is on his way to being so.

I would have never ever guessed that I might mother only one. Now that I have him, I can't imagine mothering any more. He fills my heart so completely that I don't even have that longing for any more. There was an emptiness there before him but it's completely filled now.

I sometimes long to be pregnant and have a big belly again. I long for another peaceful birth experience... but, I also know that it will never be as special as the first time, when my husband and I got to experience it together, just the two of us.

I am so grateful to have had the wonderful experience that I had. I am so grateful that I had a homebirth the first time around, since it will likely be my last.

Marshall is definitely spirited, possibly gifted. He is an excellent communicator. He loves to use his words. He has really great space perception and fine motor skills. He loves to "fix it" and his favourite toy is a screw driver "driver", but not his toy ones, he wants dads.

I know I am doing a good job when we are laying in bed together waiting for him to fall asleep and he sits up, leans over and kisses the top of my head before laying back down. I never want to forget that feeling.

I didn't know I was in a snow globe, and then someone shook it

For the most part, I am okay - often times present... but not always. (Yes I am reading A New Earth!) Tonight, I am not present. Mom and dad are splitting up apparently. It has been nearly 3 weeks since I have heard this news. I don't really have any idea what is going on. I don't ask, don't want to know. I can't help but develop my own ideas about what is happening but they likely aren't fair since I haven't been involved.

I'm sad, annoyed, frustrated, pissed off and surprisingly okay. I used to cry. I cried when I was frustrated. Now Marshall is here. I don't cry anymore. Tonight I want to.. but I can't. Mom's don't cry?

I feel better now. I'm going back to bed, close to my baby boy.

Marshall is 1

... and his "nursery" still isn't decorated. In fact, we rarely use it at all. His clothes are in there and a big heaping pile of pillows perfect for climbing in and snuggling on but otherwise he still sleeps in our room and in bed beside mama for at least a portion of the night. Marshall still gets mama's milk, wears cloth diapers, loves books and ducks, says mama, dada, nana, papa and duck. He signs dog, cat, milk, duck and telephone. He loves to act goofy and get people laughing. I've never loved something so big in my entire life. It's scary.
Marshall was born at home. It was a beautiful and relaxing birth. Ten hours long. I can say with complete honesty that I have never been "relaxed" for as long before in my life. I've never been so focused.

I've just started a new job. One that pays well, has great hours with no work on weekends or holidays. I only work 2.5 days a week for now increasing to full time eventually.. perfect for coming off of maternity leave.

What else can I say? I have things really really good. I have the best husband ever. I have the most beautiful son. I can't want for anything. I am grateful.

June 12, 2007


June 12, 2008

31 weeks, 3 days

The wedding was beautiful, the music was fantastic, the reception was a lot of fun. The night went by quickly but it could not have gone better.

We are more than 31 weeks along now. We have started our prenatal classes together. I love them. I look forward to our homebirth. Dear hubby (formerly BF) is going to be a wonderful support. I look forward to supporting him too. I know he is nervous. I look forward to spending early labour with him, just the two of us, enjoying our last time together as just us.

We still have a lot to do to get ready. The baby's room isn't ready yet but I don't anticipate he'll be using it much for a while anyway. We will get it all cleaned up and sorted but we're not decorating or painting. That just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to us, but to each his own. We'll decorate it when our son is old enough to express how he wants it to be.

That's all for now I guess.. today I have peace.