There is a long distance canoe race full of challenges and all sorts of ocean conditions that tests the hearts of the most seasoned paddlers and steersman. It is one of my favorites. An hour into the start, weaving through shallow waters around exposed reefs, the sea opens up and there is a point where one is faced with a decision whether to head further out into the deep blue and maintain that line, hoping to overcome the unpredictability of the open ocean, or go towards the cliffs, where waves are pounding and churning upon the rocks. To an untrained eye, it would seem to be a dangerous move. Yet, in reality, there is a buffer zone between the perilous crag, the ever churning whitewater rising up to beat upon the rocks, then dragging back to whence it came. It is the “in between”, a vortex of calm amidst the chaotic conditions of the deep blue and the foamy boiling swath covering and then revealing jagged, barnacled, ancient lava.
A confident steersman and faith inspired crew can maneuver this buffer zone and use it to propel the canoe onward, catching the currents that move sideways along the cliffs. The key, is trust in one another, keep the canoe balanced and ever driving forward, replacing fear of the unknown with strength and determination.
Copa, your title reminded me of this race, this section of waves pounding on the cliff side, steering a course and at the same time, heading for the rocks and the in between. I have often thought of my years spent on the ocean and how much the canoe experience becomes a reflection of life’s circumstances. This journey we have with our wayward adult children is similar to a long distance race, periods of calm waters and times where the sea of their troubles seems unending and unnavigable, which feels like we are being pushed and shoved mercilessly into the rocks. How many sink or survive moments can one take? How long can we live our lives in despair over theirs? Time after time, we swallow those gut wrenching feelings and paddle onward, somehow avoiding being dashed upon the rocks.
The difference is, I choose to test determination and training by entering a canoe race, I did not choose for my two to become lost in a quagmire of drugs and homelessness. Yet here I am, thrust onto a course I didn’t sign up for, nor imagined would be their choice as I raised them. The only way I see through this, is to try to remain steady state and focused on how I live my own life. When that ache of fear rises up about what they are doing, what their outcome may be, I pray. Hard. It is the same as this buffer zone I write of, creating a space of sanity and calm, despite the swirling circumstances of my twos choices and consequences. As you write here, I see you working through this and recognizing your right to live peaceably in your space.
You matter.
You are the captain of your vessel, just as your son is, of his, just as my two are, of theirs.
No matter what you decide on your next steps, it is about keeping your canoe upright and moving forward as you continue this journey. Keeping balanced and focused, moving forward despite the waves of chaos crashing all around us with our beloveds. That is our challenge in the harsh reality of our unique situations. How do we deal with the decisions and choices our adult kids make, and survive the utter insanity of it?
I have been contemplating this in my hiatus from posting, trying to grow and morph from feeling lost and devastated at times, to focusing on what the short rest of my life might look like.
I have absolutely no control over what my two decide. That has been made crystal clear through many trials and errors, trying to help them navigate their lives. At least that’s what we thought we were doing. Helping. I couldn’t make them do anything, just as I cannot command the ocean.
They are out there somewhere, I haven’t heard from Rain for a few months, and I learned recently that Tornado is back in jail. There is this dull ache for them. Like arthritis flaring.
It is a feeling at times similar to that race, when one hits the proverbial wall, and there is no way out, but to keep paddling and get through it. Because to stop moving forward, we are left at the mercy of the waves.
I have read through your posts and am amazed at your resilience and strength as you figure out your next steps. This is hard stuff.
I see you paddling through it. Head for the buffer zone dear friend. Find your peace, meditate, post read. Examine what has happened in the past and what is occurring now. I don’t know with these adult kids of ours, their timing is impeccable, texting, not texting, it is as if a game, to keep us on edge and guessing. Or is it just them, being them? How can J be so likeable to neighbors, yet so cruel and manipulative with you and M?
I was thinking about this, and no contact with my two (their choice) and realized that if I don’t matter to myself, how can I expect anyone else to believe I do? Maybe that is part of the psychology of all of this insanity with our waywards, that when they are near and start to step over boundaries, subtle then blatant, it erodes our selves within us, and in their eyes. At least I think that’s what happened with my two. I became nothing more than a commodity, a thing, to them.
That is unacceptable.
So I think that as you are reaching out to J, making small steps could be key, to which you have mentioned “starting a conversation.” There is a saying, from the Bible “He who is faithful in the least, is faithful in much.” I would gauge his response, or lack of, as signs of his willingness to follow through. To at least meet you half way? To at least afford you the respect you deserve.
I am sorry for all you have gone through and are going through, it is the toughest thing to overcome.
I see you bravely steering onward. Deep breaths dear sister, you will figure this out.
Leafy
because we are real and deep to him, so we get the real stuff of him?
