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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 638951" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>:O)</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>difficult child daughter claims the world is full of real souls at the level of the streets. That the interactions that take place there are taking place at the level of soul. Here is a story she told me yesterday about her life on the streets:</p><p></p><p>An older lady who has spent most of her life on the streets sits in the center of the park where the street people gather to drink together at night. She looks around her. She sees a couple fighting with one another to the left of her.</p><p></p><p>She sees a couple fighting to the right.</p><p></p><p>Behind her, she sees another couple ~ and they are fighting, too!</p><p></p><p>She tells my daughter: "I need a man. I have no one to fight with."</p><p></p><p>And they laughed and laughed.</p><p></p><p>After difficult child daughter came in off the streets, she learned this lady had died.</p><p></p><p>difficult child daughter misses her to this day.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>That's how I feel, too. There are a myriad of depths and colors to my daughter. </p><p></p><p>And to my son, as well.</p><p></p><p>I just wish they wouldn't....</p><p></p><p>It's impossible not to judge them. It's impossible not to worry for them when you know darn well what they are doing is dangerous <em>and they were raised so they would never have to know about the dangerous things.</em></p><p></p><p>But then, that is how the parents of the man who would become the Buddha raised him, too.</p><p></p><p>And he did not become real until he knew the dangerous things...and the only way he could find out was to leave home and have a look at how the world differed from what he had been taught.</p><p></p><p>And I am very sure his mother was just as horrified as we are, here.</p><p></p><p>It is an extraordinary thing to discuss where she has been, what she has seen, what she has learned from everything she has seen and done, with difficult child daughter.</p><p></p><p>It is equally disconcerting to confront my rage and disappointment and resentment and blah, blah, blah about those same things.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>The exchange is between difficult child and his aunt. Even when the men are big, so much bigger and stronger than we are, we think of them, we remember them when they were little and we talk to them just that way.</p><p></p><p>Love is such a powerful thing.</p><p></p><p>I am glad you got to talk to the chipster. She must be adventuring, too. </p><p></p><p>I hope she is safe, and that she returns to her own mother and family, soon.</p><p></p><p>That's the surprising thing about these people our kids are meeting. </p><p></p><p>Their decency.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 638951, member: 17461"] :O) difficult child daughter claims the world is full of real souls at the level of the streets. That the interactions that take place there are taking place at the level of soul. Here is a story she told me yesterday about her life on the streets: An older lady who has spent most of her life on the streets sits in the center of the park where the street people gather to drink together at night. She looks around her. She sees a couple fighting with one another to the left of her. She sees a couple fighting to the right. Behind her, she sees another couple ~ and they are fighting, too! She tells my daughter: "I need a man. I have no one to fight with." And they laughed and laughed. After difficult child daughter came in off the streets, she learned this lady had died. difficult child daughter misses her to this day. That's how I feel, too. There are a myriad of depths and colors to my daughter. And to my son, as well. I just wish they wouldn't.... It's impossible not to judge them. It's impossible not to worry for them when you know darn well what they are doing is dangerous [I]and they were raised so they would never have to know about the dangerous things.[/I] But then, that is how the parents of the man who would become the Buddha raised him, too. And he did not become real until he knew the dangerous things...and the only way he could find out was to leave home and have a look at how the world differed from what he had been taught. And I am very sure his mother was just as horrified as we are, here. It is an extraordinary thing to discuss where she has been, what she has seen, what she has learned from everything she has seen and done, with difficult child daughter. It is equally disconcerting to confront my rage and disappointment and resentment and blah, blah, blah about those same things. Yes. The exchange is between difficult child and his aunt. Even when the men are big, so much bigger and stronger than we are, we think of them, we remember them when they were little and we talk to them just that way. Love is such a powerful thing. I am glad you got to talk to the chipster. She must be adventuring, too. I hope she is safe, and that she returns to her own mother and family, soon. That's the surprising thing about these people our kids are meeting. Their decency. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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