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Independence Day thoughts about difficult child
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<blockquote data-quote="scent of cedar" data-source="post: 600329" data-attributes="member: 1721"><p>It's sort of like being Snoopy, the day he finds out he is not one of the humans, but a dog.</p><p></p><p>It would take a time of adjustment for Snoopy, a time when that music they play in the Charlie Brown specials sounds like the prelude to the Phantom of the Opera to Snoopy, before he would realize that being a dog is exactly what he was created to be,</p><p></p><p>And then, if he is very lucky, Snoopy might come to know that, terrible as the world is, it would be a much more terrible place, if dogs did not exist, had never been created, never loved a human or chased a ball or did all the things dogs do that make the mornings happy and the nights safe.</p><p></p><p>We will have to listen to that Charlie Brown theme song one day, Recovering.</p><p></p><p>I will try to find and post a link for you.</p><p></p><p>Barbara</p><p></p><p>Recovering? I'm so sorry this is happening to you, and to your daughter. Try not to be afraid of it, Recovering. It's as you said: Tragedy DOES find us all. It seems to be part of the human condition. That is a true statement, absolutely. But as you also tell me...we are fortunate that, even in our misfortune, we have the capacity to choose the way we will interpret what is happening to us. While we cannot stop the devastation, we can note the tiniest signals of strength and love and light, and follow those to a destination that at least leaves us standing, functioning. And maybe even, as you said, Recovering...happy.</p><p></p><p>That's the goal, right?</p><p></p><p>Not to fix or save or even, to console. But to be happy. To reclaim our own capacity for joy. We've learned I think, Recovering, that we cannot pay for our daughters through suffering, ourselves. I swear, those girls would be floating on sunshine, if the grief of a mother could save or change anything.</p><p></p><p>I think you are right about rage blowing away denial.</p><p></p><p>I read something in a Stephen King book once ~ Misery, I think it was. The main character is in pain. So much pain that he begins to be able to describe it. And he realizes pain comes in waves. It reaches a high point, a place where the pain is so intense it shoots you out of your body. And then, it falls back.</p><p></p><p>And then, it rises again, like water at high tide.</p><p></p><p>Unstoppable.</p><p></p><p>Sweeping away everything in its path.</p><p></p><p>When I am in unbearable pain, I remember that imagery, Recovering.</p><p></p><p>I think it takes about three days to work through the material burnt out through the rage. I know I will be cleaner, afterword.</p><p></p><p>It is still so hard to be present with it.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes, it helps me to remember that old saying about the surface of a lake on a clear night. </p><p></p><p>You see the moon reflected, perfectly. So white, so huge and full and still....</p><p></p><p>And then, a wind comes up, and the reflection is destroyed, the ripples running everywhere.</p><p></p><p>When that happens in our lives, we need to look up. See the real moon.</p><p></p><p>And realize the real moon is undisturbed, is sailing serenely through the night sky. The stars, burning for millions of years, behind it.</p><p></p><p>Here is a quote, for you, Recovering.</p><p></p><p>"My dearest Lucy, you have never seen them above you, looking down, con amore, the ancient, all-permitting stars."</p><p></p><p>Barnhardt</p><p>Gospel</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="scent of cedar, post: 600329, member: 1721"] It's sort of like being Snoopy, the day he finds out he is not one of the humans, but a dog. It would take a time of adjustment for Snoopy, a time when that music they play in the Charlie Brown specials sounds like the prelude to the Phantom of the Opera to Snoopy, before he would realize that being a dog is exactly what he was created to be, And then, if he is very lucky, Snoopy might come to know that, terrible as the world is, it would be a much more terrible place, if dogs did not exist, had never been created, never loved a human or chased a ball or did all the things dogs do that make the mornings happy and the nights safe. We will have to listen to that Charlie Brown theme song one day, Recovering. I will try to find and post a link for you. Barbara Recovering? I'm so sorry this is happening to you, and to your daughter. Try not to be afraid of it, Recovering. It's as you said: Tragedy DOES find us all. It seems to be part of the human condition. That is a true statement, absolutely. But as you also tell me...we are fortunate that, even in our misfortune, we have the capacity to choose the way we will interpret what is happening to us. While we cannot stop the devastation, we can note the tiniest signals of strength and love and light, and follow those to a destination that at least leaves us standing, functioning. And maybe even, as you said, Recovering...happy. That's the goal, right? Not to fix or save or even, to console. But to be happy. To reclaim our own capacity for joy. We've learned I think, Recovering, that we cannot pay for our daughters through suffering, ourselves. I swear, those girls would be floating on sunshine, if the grief of a mother could save or change anything. I think you are right about rage blowing away denial. I read something in a Stephen King book once ~ Misery, I think it was. The main character is in pain. So much pain that he begins to be able to describe it. And he realizes pain comes in waves. It reaches a high point, a place where the pain is so intense it shoots you out of your body. And then, it falls back. And then, it rises again, like water at high tide. Unstoppable. Sweeping away everything in its path. When I am in unbearable pain, I remember that imagery, Recovering. I think it takes about three days to work through the material burnt out through the rage. I know I will be cleaner, afterword. It is still so hard to be present with it. Sometimes, it helps me to remember that old saying about the surface of a lake on a clear night. You see the moon reflected, perfectly. So white, so huge and full and still.... And then, a wind comes up, and the reflection is destroyed, the ripples running everywhere. When that happens in our lives, we need to look up. See the real moon. And realize the real moon is undisturbed, is sailing serenely through the night sky. The stars, burning for millions of years, behind it. Here is a quote, for you, Recovering. "My dearest Lucy, you have never seen them above you, looking down, con amore, the ancient, all-permitting stars." Barnhardt Gospel [/QUOTE]
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