God Knows What We Need

You may or may not have noticed my absence from the Journey Wisdom blog. The last several months, last two years have been the culmination of the life-changing AHA moments. Change happens, and we can roll with it or we can resist it. The latter makes for one hellacious life on Earth. After some initial resistance, I settled into accepting “what is” and rolled with the flow of Universal Life.

The childhood home that my mother and father built from the ground up forty years ago sold earlier this spring. I had the blessing to live there for last two years before letting it go. When I moved in with my dad, I did so believing it was temporary since it was on the market, for sale by owner. Two more unsuccessful attempts at “for sale by owner,” and three real estate agent contracts later, we finally sold it to a family who I believe will carry on the heart and soul of my mom and dad's legacy.

While living with my elderly father brought many frustrations and challenges, I settled into gratitude for the opportunity. God knows what we each need in our lives for healing, spiritual and personal growth. If we embrace and commit to these opportunities, we can find the greatest of treasures within them. Living with Dad allowed me to financially get back on my feet again after experiencing a devastating setback. Living in my childhood home also connected me with my mother again through everything in that house she handpicked, placed and cared for with love. I enjoyed the peaceful landscape of the countryside: my mother's flower gardens, the view of Browns Valley, and the peace and quiet of country living. I reflected on the memories created over the decades of growing up there, and as adults when we came together for holidays and visits. I enjoyed reconnecting with extended family that lived around the corner.

Most importantly, I did some deep healing work around my relationship with my father, and ultimately, within myself. I found my voice and personal power with him, which I abandoned as a teenager. Our relationship over the years have been challenging, as we hold different views about how I should have lived my life, should be living my life. Everything I decided to do, my father held the opposite opinion, no matter what. In hindsight, I find it amusing. I am sandpaper to his four by four. What I realized is that our relationship reflected how we feel about one another. I've never felt my father respected me, and energetically, that reflected in how I interacted with him. Once I began to let go of my need for his approval in order to feel loved, I began to heal the old wounds of our past. When I began to forgive him and myself for past grievances, our relationship energetically shifted to one of greater collaboration. At times, the process was scary, angst-ridden, and even ugly when I slipped back into being a 16-year-old defiant daughter; but I quickly found my center, standing strong within my personal power until I became spiritual Teflon to his barbs, criticisms and dismissals of my feelings.

Add to this process the shift in the parent-child relationship as parents get older and the children “parent” the parent. It is heartbreaking to watch the man you've looked up to as provider of breath, home, and knowledge, as rescuer of boo-boos, heartbreaks, and roadside breakdowns become disoriented, slow down, and struggle with the simplest of things. My father became feebler with every month that passed in those two years. Ever proud and stubborn, Dad resisted the idea of being the old man that needs help getting out of a chair, help around the home place. Bound and determined to do for himself as long as he can, he carried on until a minor accident on the farm shook him into reality. (He kept that incident from me for a few weeks, unwilling to admit the defeat to his aging and weakening body.) Despite the fact we'd had the house on the market for two years, I knew in his heart dad wasn't ready to let it go, which created little interest from potential buyers. After this accident, he began accepting the reality that it was time to give up the home place. Once he energetically let it go, we had the first of two offers on it within a month. It sold three months later.

God gave me the time I needed to move through the healing work around my financial life, grief over my mother's passing, and four decades of resentment and hurt related to my relationship with my father. God gave my Dad time to come to terms with letting go of the home he and my mother built together with their blood, sweat and tears. When both Dad and I were ready to move on with our lives, to move into the next leg of our journey, the house sold.

With all transition comes limbo. After selling forty years worth of belongings, my dad moved in with me for six weeks while waiting for an opening in the Carmel Home, an assisted living and nursing home managed by the Catholic diocese. This time was important for us both, as we recovered from the stressful whirlwind of recent life upheavals. These six weeks allowed us to rest before we independently launched into the next leg of our journey. This time also provided us an opportunity to bring the two years we spent together to a close without the stress and uncertainty of selling the house hanging over us. We watched the nightly news together, talked and laughed. My dad was more relaxed than I'd seen him be in months. I was grateful to have and be in my own space, on my own terms.

Today my dad is settled in the Carmel Home. I'm settled into my home, and now fully unpacked four months after arriving. Since dad's departure, I've had time to clear some clutter, both emotionally, mentally and physically. A long respite with the monks at the Abbey of Gethsemane was just what the Spirit Doctor ordered for my soul. Refreshed, reconnected with the Spirit Within, I have before me a blank canvas ready to be painted with whatever wonderful things I desire for my life.

Change happens. The last two years of my life helped me realize even more the importance of my daily spiritual practices which I abandoned in the busy-ness of life this last spring. I understand more now than ever the need to stay centered in the presence of God, for this center is the calm eye within the storm.

Tangled Yarn

Over the last year, I’ve been doing a great deal of work around relationships of all kind: friendships, co-worker, family. More recently, I’ve been doing some deeper healing work around my relationship with my father, and out of this process has come the even deeper work around my intimate relationships with men. I’m finding this process much like untangling wadded yarn; and interestingly, the yarn represents the “story” I’ve lived and spun for myself over many years about my relationships with men. They say the relationship we daughters have with our fathers reflects the kinds of relationships we have with men in our dating lives. I’ve come to realize how in many ways, many of my dating relationships have been influenced by the relationship I’ve historically had with my father. Yikes!

In a studious look back at past relationships, I found some disconcerting trends. Most of my intimate relationships developed out of sense of neediness. I’ve also recognized patterns of insecurity in which I’ve had a great need for validation, reassurance and attention in order to trust the situation at hand. Much of this insecurity I’m realizing stems from my relationship with my father who was not emotionally or verbally expressive whatsoever with his feelings towards me as his daughter. I didn’t experience the father-daughter affection I watched many of my girlfriends enjoy with their fathers. My father also worked a full time job and additional “jobs” in order to provide for our family and college educations for my brother and me. As a result, we didn’t see a lot of my dad because of his swing shift schedule and/or tending to his various farming projects. My father didn’t take an interest in my life or things I liked; and we never had father/daughter time in which we spent quality time together doing things I enjoyed or that we could enjoy together. Dad was supportive of my involvement in band, especially in the last two years of high school taking on the Eagle One equipment bus project in which he renovated a school bus and drove it to band contests. While this interest I appreciate, it didn’t fulfill that one-on-one quality time spent together, since I shared him with over a hundred other people during those times. Dad did what he knew how to do best: provide for his family, and in this he was a great success.

I came to realize I held an unconscious belief that because my father didn’t take time to spend time with me, freely show me affection or express his feelings for me (his responses to my “I love you” were typically grunts and I had to coerce hugs out of him), I felt unworthy of his love; and through the years in our relationship, as well as those with men I’ve dated, I have felt the need to “earn” his love and affection. As a rebellious teen, I got his attention by fighting with him, yelling matches which unfortunately were how he and I invested our time into our relationship. I learned from my dad my feelings didn’t count, and therefore, unhealthy ways to angrily express them, even then they weren’t honest. I have spent most of my life trying to win my father’s love and approval; and only within the last year have I decided I don’t need it to be the wonderful and loving person I am.

Through this reflection, I realized I carried that baggage with my dad into most of my dating relationships, and needless to say, that has yet to serve me or the relationships well. I also attracted and dated men like my father: emotionally unavailable and/or unable to communicate or express their feelings (though most of this gender isn’t the best at these things). I managed these relationships much like I managed my relationship with my father, with anger as the persecutor or by emotionally shutting down as the victim. I accepted verbal and emotional abuse was the norm within a male/female relationship. My father often criticized me throughout childhood, and even still today; however, now I no longer take it personally (though little girl inside me still feels the sting as the past flares up) or place great value on his words. Today, I express how I feel in a respectful but honest manner and I don’t back down. This last year living with my father has been no doubt purposeful to rediscovering my personal power. I’ve learned to stand up to my father in a respectful and healthier way and to speak my truth around what I want or need from him, or how I’m feeling without fear or shame. I’m learning self-validation, rather than look to him (or anyone else) for validation of worthiness in this life. And I’m recognizing and appreciating his own ways of expressing love for me; at times it feels like an archaeological dig to find them but they are there.

This time with my father prepares me for a healthier way of managing and showing up in a dating relationship. I recognize how this baggage with my father has bled over into my dating life and how to better manage the dating process, and myself within it. I’ve given over so much of myself and my personal power to these past dating connections in the hope of being accepted and loved, all in an effort to fill the void left unfulfilled by my father-daughter relationship. What a horrific burden to place on another human being! In many ways, I feel like a teenager all over again figuring out how to date, what to do and not do, what to expect and not to expect. I’ll muddle through it as I’ve muddled through so many other new enlightened experiences before. These revelations offer me an incredible opportunity to grow and develop a healthier and loving relationship with a man who unconditionally accepts and loves me for who I am. Part of this process also involves my believing that I am worthy of unconditional love and acceptance, and finding within myself the willingness to accept nothing less than that from another.

I Finally Cried "Uncle!"

It’s been a year since I returned to Owensboro, at which time I moved in with my father who had the house and farm on the market. The move-in was “temporary.” A year later, I remain here as my dad decides whether he is ready to sell the place or not. He pushes through the Parkinson’s disease and the challenging demands it places on his aging body. Dad knows his limits, and he takes rest breaks, but the work he does, he loves. The homestead has been his life; thus, to sell it means his life in some ways ends. As long as he handles the tasks physically, I anticipate he will remain, though he admits its getting to be too much. I expect he'll see the place through before selling in the spring; of course, he said that last year. Time will tell.

Living with Dad challenges me but offers me the opportunity to do some healing within our father-daughter relationship. Ours is not the warm and fuzzy father-daughter relationship seen on “The Brady Bunch.” The teen years involved a lot of yelling and crying. College years provided space to be who I wanted to be, bully-free. Young adult years smoothed out and the relationship seemed better; however, the older I've gotten, the more independent-minded I am, marching to the beat of my own drum. Doing so didn't set well with my dad though he kept his tongue for the most part. During mom’s illness, our estranged relationship intensified as if under a microscope in the midst of the stress. I was treated like I was sixteen again, and amazingly, I responded as if I was sixteen again. What the heck? I felt little support from dad during and after mom's illness, but then, he was a grieving widower himself, so that I accepted.

I made choices after mom’s passing that widened the chasm between us, mainly because dad expected me to act accordingly to his expectations. I wasn’t who he wanted me to be, and honestly, I was floundering as I made poor choices in effort to soothe the pain of my grief and loss. Upon realization of my situation, created completely by my own choices, I recognized the need to cry “Uncle” to the Universe as my dire circumstances came to bear. I was miserable in Indiana. I felt too far away from dad and everything in my life seemed to be falling apart. I felt the spiritual guidance to go home to Owensboro, the very place I eagerly left after high school. Doing so meant I would eat a great deal of crow when talking to my dad about my situation. I needed his support in these dire straits so I could sort things out, but I also felt a burning need to be closer to him. I’m sure Dad saw things from the former perspective, especially since he once stated his belief that the reason I came home to Kentucky in 2009 was only because I lost my job in Colorado! His accusation cut me to the quick and even deeper in my heart since mom was dying. Again, I had to let that and all of his narrow-minded beliefs of who I am go. He doesn’t know me, and at the time of this transition, hell, I didn’t know who I was either!

Through the last year, I’ve woke up from what felt like a bad dream. I had several “Come to Jesus” meetings with myself about my choices, coming clean that I acted with my head and emotion, not with my heart or out of God's guidance. I’ve let go of the story about my woeful sacrifice of leaving my life in Colorado, my friends, all that I knew to come home to see to my mom and dad. I’ve let go of my story about how undervalued I and my professional expertise is in this area. I’ve let go of my story of financial woes and hard luck, and how no one in this area appreciates me. I’ve let go of my story of true love turning into a nightmare of shattered love caused by a heartless and damaged man. And I’m still working on shedding a few more stories: the story of being the unappreciated and disrespected daughter; the story of hopelessness of ever finding my “Prince Charming” in this area who gets me, is like-minded, appreciates me, values me; the story of how I'm a misfit, out of place where “normal” is "abnormal" compared to life I knew in Colorado. I realized I made myself a "martyr" when I tell these stories; I decided not to live as a victim as many do when they whine and tell their sob stories of hurt and how they were wronged.

I am grateful to my father and his support during this time to grow, to heal, and to expand upon who I am and “what's next.” I’m grateful to spend time in the place I’ve called home for more than forty years and its sanctuary to remember and heal my youth and young adult experiences in this seemingly foreign place after a twenty-six year absence. I value every moment I can have at the only address I’ve ever lived here in Owensboro before its gone from my life forever.

I recently considered moving into my own place, a reality not too far off into the future, but I struggled with the decision. After struggling for a week or more around it, I remembered during a meditation that decisions from my heart are easy to make. If I'm struggling to make this decision, and its not feeling right, chances are it’s not the right choice right now. In making decisions, I'm learning to follow my heart while many tend to follow their head and popular opinion. With a dose of practicality offered by my head, I follow my heart first because more often than not, decisions made based on emotion and my head lead me down the path of heartache and struggle, as clearly evident from my choices since my mom passed.

I'm happy where I am right now, and my heart knows it is temporary. I offer dad company, help around this big house and sometimes in the yard when he lets me. He offers me company, support as I recover from three years of financial setbacks, and the opportunity to figure out how I can participate and contribute in this community. I'm available to him at a moment's notice which offers me greater comfort and peace in fulfilling my commitment to see him through his transitional years. And I'm given the opportunity to heal, even strengthen our relationship; to create a new kind of relationship between us that allows me my voice and heart as my father's forty-eight year old daughter.

Life is good with few bumps along the way but that's Life. My heart is peaceful and God blesses me with opportunities and guidance to move forward in my journey in such a way that honors both myself, and my father in his final phase of life.