The storms rolled in and out this week. And I'm not referring to our winter weather. My lovely and wise therapist reminds me constantly that this is part of the process of recovering from tragedy. The ups and downs remain a constant. I can intellectualize this, but my heart sinks so quickly when the balance is rocked. It drives me a bit crazy and always catches me off guard. I like feeling on top of my day and it's a clear reminder that no matter how strong I've grown, vulnerability is not far from the surface. The potential for capsizing is unlikely, but the thought still lurks in the shadows.
If I can recognize my specific triggers, maybe I'll be able to come up with strategies to not plummet so quickly or so far. In meditation, when my mind wanders, I identify the distraction, but don't get caught up in it. I just name it and let it go. Maybe that can work for the key struggles that still bog me down? I already feel like only the major ones remain. Those early pitfalls around abandonment- betrayal, loss of love and how could this have happened have truly lessened. That's a relief, right? What still plagues me is what hurts first and matters most, ultimately. Concern for my babies.
So, I'm naming it:
I hate feeling helpless when my children suffer. I'm frustrated when I can't prevent them from being hurt.
Oh yes, that's my tender spot... always has been and I imagine always will be. It's what turns me into both a ferocious mother bear or the walking wounded. Either way, I must learn to be resilient. To fight for what's right, but not be destroyed in the process. I guess I am still searching for my sea legs as the storms ebb and flow around me. But it's clear that this entire year, I never capsized... that I clung to the wheel and am finding my way home.
So I'll just keep naming it and letting go...