Wise words from my sis

Talked with my sister for over an hour tonight.  Good, helpful, real conversation.  Shared some of the big ideas I've been exploring about my fear of vulnerability and how I've been recognizing this pattern where I don't allow myself to feel pain from others and disappointment in how I've been treated.  It all started because I went to have dinner with my parents tonight and that was hard.  It is the first night they are spending in their new home in town.  Everyone is so excited for me.  No one gets that I'm actually grieving their loss.  They always stayed with me before and now they are across town.  Right now when I'm lonelier and more alone than ever, and they are moving out of my guest room into their own house.  That's hard, but then my mom told me they had already been invited to a social engagement in their new neighborhood for Friday night.  Didn't occur to her that Shabbat is special to me.  Doesn't matter that she should know from many many previous conversations about this topic that that night is important to me and is also very difficult right now.  Instead of ignoring it, I acknowledged that I was sad and disappointed.  That I wish they had thought of that.  It was awkward.  I could feel the pull to let her off the hook.  She wanted me (and I wanted) to say, "It's ok.  Don't worry about it.  I understand." But I didn't.  It was uncomfortable.  But I think that was the right thing to do. She kept pushing for it, to be let off the hook so to speak, to be deemed not guilty.  But I didn't.  Finally I just said, "I don't want to talk about it," which is better than saying, "it's ok," right?

My sis reminded me of this good blog called Momastery alternatively pretty funny and pretty wise.  I liked several posts of her that I read this evening, including this one. However, then I discovered that she and her husband got back together.  Yay for them, I thought.  I summed up my response in the following email to my sister:

I started out really liking this.  Relates well to the one I was mentioning about being broken on the bedroom floor.  Then I see she got back together with her husband.  Yay for her.  She nearly died and now she has him back.  And it's hard, yada yada yada.  Wish I hadn't read that.  Especially that part about how she would have never believed it possible a year ago.  

Now I'm filled with hope, disgust at the hope, jealousy, self-pity, etc. It's all there.  Good God.  

But I LOVED that part in the mona lisa smiles one where she says she leaves her daughter crying on the floor because someone has to suck it up around here and the part where she's not getting any more water.  Ever.  

 And she replied as follows:

I know, I get that the whole husband part is a rub…but this is good stuff that she said:

“You can stop striving for good and resisting bad and instead –  surrender to all of it. You can stop judging your circumstances and your life and your people. Striving for good and resisting bad is the source of all of our worry, all of our stress. All our problems stem from our refusal to surrender to what IS.”  

You said tonight, “I was happy then.” Personally, I don’t fully agree with you from my memory of it, but that’s your story and you’re sticking to it for now. You’ve decided that THEN was GOOD and NOW is BAD. But my favorite line from the Power of Now is that a rainy day is not bad, IT JUST IS. God never said Rain is bad. We humans (well really our Dad) decided that Rainy days are bad. But it’s just rain. And it doesn’t have power, it’s not good or bad, it’s just rain.  When people say, Dance in the Rain…. I say Fuck You, stop being so perky. Because, as you said, I’m contrary. But the truth is, I have more fun when I do decide to dance in it.

Love yourself first (oxygen mask goes on the parent first when the plane is going down), start experimenting with FEELING not SOLVING, then love your boys, ….and for goodness sakes, let’s not worry about the future.

I think you’re amazing. I think you’re going deep into stuff you’ve preferred to ignore (cause we all do until tragedy hits). I know you didn’t want this, but would you really have wanted to spend the rest of your life not looking at this stuff? That’s an honest question. If you had to go through this hell, but come out truly knowing who you are or stay like you were – which would you choose? Maybe this isn’t a good time to ask.

How did she get so wise that little sister of mine?