{"id":1824,"date":"2020-12-04T10:49:37","date_gmt":"2020-12-04T15:49:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/loveyoustrong.us\/?p=1824"},"modified":"2020-12-04T10:49:37","modified_gmt":"2020-12-04T15:49:37","slug":"our-labyrinth-reunion-such-a-narrow-path-does-lead-to-missteps","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/loveyoustrong.us\/index.php\/2020\/12\/04\/our-labyrinth-reunion-such-a-narrow-path-does-lead-to-missteps\/","title":{"rendered":"Our Labyrinth Reunion…Such a Narrow Path DOES lead to missteps"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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This is the labyrinth I walked that February 2019 evening during a retreat at the Solomon Center in Robert, LA.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

“He doesn’t get me.” This is what I told myself into my 50s. After he succumbed to terminal cancer, I updated my proclamation to “He never got me”. I was the late-in-life child, the oops, the caboose. He would jokingly tell people that you know you need to quit having children when you start to treat your youngest as if they were actually your grandchild. I am not sure he fully understood the concept of grand-parental spoiling that would be on his horizon. I never felt doted on at all, though I ALWAYS felt loved.

Actually, I was a constantly-on-the-move, hyperactive, artsy-fartsy, enthusiastic little girl. He was a university administrator in his late 30s or early 40s who needed to come home to peace and quiet – two words that were not in my childhood vocabulary. It must have been exhausting and worrying for him to watch my personality unfold. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My son Chris’s study of Introductory Genetics in high school was eye-opening for me. Chris had asked me to help him comprehend a genetic concept, and I stared at the text – first in amazement – then in confusion – and then came my moment of clarity. I GOT IT! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

See, my dad had a PhD in Animal Genetics and was an outstanding internationally-renowned researcher and professor at the time I made my entrance into the world. If you have not experienced a conversation with a geneticist, let me enlighten you. MY DAD WAS BRILLIANT. HE WAS ARTICULATE AND ORGANIZED TO THE NTH DEGREE, A THINKER, A VISIONARY. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I, on the other hand, was his polar opposite. I was an artsy-fartsy. disorganized, quirky human being. You know what? My mom always told me that the world wouldn’t work if everyone was exactly the same and I truly subscribe to that sentiment. But it must have been hard to parent a child so different, worrying how they could ever survive with their unique sensibilities and behaviors.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we both aged, our differences became more pronounced. His frustration with my way of being was compounded with his worry about my future – my very survival. He would shush me with sharpness, but it was not my words he wanted to silence. I was larger than life to him. I was in the clouds. I needed to tone myself down and plant my feet in the earth. I get it now – I wish I had gotten it then! His shush was not in anger or impatience. It was merely an expression of worry born of love.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I too have a child who has his own vision, vastly different from other young adults. He was born with Tourette’s Syndrome, though it was not recognized as such until he entered his second decade. While his outward symptoms waned by his teens, his repetitive behaviors turned inward, and became the OCD, depression, and anxiety that I, as his parent, worry about. However will he make it in life? It is hard to parent a child so different, worrying how they could ever survive with their unique sensibilities and behaviors. <\/em>(Sounds familiar, huh?) My response to him is not a shush. It is a protective mechanism called co-dependency. It is merely an expression of worry born of love.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had a labyrinth adventure one February evening in 2019, when I was in a state of extreme anxiety and worry for my son. This cruel and callous world can be trying for him. The world doesn’t ‘get him’. As I meandered, tears started to flow as I struggled to stay on the path. One foot in front of the other. I moved slowly, but I kept crossing over the lines that were my guide. It was at that moment that I thought of my dad, and he ‘joined me’ for my walk that evening. This poem in rhythmic haiku flowed from my labyrinth experience… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

i entered alone \naccompanied by my thoughts \nseeking clarity \u00a0 \n\nthis needed respite \nno decisions to be made \njust follow the path \u00a0 \n\ni step carefully \nhair pin curves and twists and turns \nstay between the lines \u00a0 \n\nwhat a narrow path \nno room for error\n it seems so hard to balance\n\n \u00a0 \u00a0 my thoughts speak loudly\n i ponder recent missteps\n on my own home field\n\n \u00a0 not born of malice \nhumanity on display \ncrossing that same line\n\n \u00a0 around and around\n my footing so unsteady\n will i ever learn?\n\n \u00a0 i reach the middle \nthis sacred space awaits me \ni stop in silence\n\n \u00a0 time to seek my truth \nthat had long evaded me\n i take ownership\n\n \u00a0<\/em> the lines get blurry<\/em>\n when love collides with worry<\/em>\n my eyes start to sweat<\/em>\n\n \u00a0 \u00a0 i feel your presence\n your eyes used to sweat as well \nwe walk silently\n\n \u00a0 Start, stop, start again\n Hair pin curves and twists and turns\n I see you wobble\n\n \u00a0 I guess you\u2019ve been here\n At a much different time\n Moving \u2018sbest you could\n\n \u00a0 We continue on\n Though now with a compassion\n So long overdue\n\n \u00a0 \u00a0 Our truths coincide \nSharing, healing, moving on \nWe take ownership\n\n \u00a0<\/em> the lines get blurry<\/em>\n when love collides with worry<\/em>\n our eyes start to sweat<\/em> \u00a0<\/em> \u00a0 \u00a0<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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