#change – Rooting to Rise

Change… Preparing for Winter

Posted on October 4, 2022 by twomomsadmin

Good morning from… by the brook♡

Though most of our trees are still very much green, our brook residents have begun preparing for winter. The male Mallards are molting, revealing their green iridescent headdress, doing their best to look dapper for the dames. While the deer are discarding their red fur jackets in exchange for a darker brown, double layered winter coat. All seemingly unfazed with their inherent changes, just doing what comes natural to them.

This morning as I stood feeding my insatiable feathered friends, I caught a glimpse of the falling leaves. One after the other; some twirling and spinning, catching streams of air beneath their tips, making it appear as if they were dancing on their way down. Others just free falling, as if weighted by something, allowing the law of gravity to have its way. Life is like that I guess. Some days leave us feeling light and airy and others, well you just want to fall down like a heap of bricks… defeated.

I Quickly diverted my attention with a deep, full breath to either dissipate or possibly press down the emotional sensations moving upward into my throat.
Why does life have to be so trivial at times? Why can change feel so… off? Do you think maybe it’s just old ingrained stories, and deeply rooted emotions that rise to the top when something feels different? Why do certain seemingly small situations, seem to overwhelm us, causing a battle with gravity, pulling us down as we fight to fly. Wouldn’t it be so much easier is we could just do and be what came came natural? Or maybe that’s not the answer; maybe it’s those overwhelming, different situations that push us through the old stories and uprooted emotions. It gets exhausting sometimes, but like my resident friends I’m ready to shed my old coverings to prepare for winter. Wishing you all an effortless transition in the upcoming seasonal change♡

Much love to you all,
Maureen

Seasons Change

Posted on October 13, 2018July 4, 2020 by twomomsadmin

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to greet the early morning sunlight flooding into the room. I lie still for a moment, assessing my surroundings; I notice that something feels different. Slowly raising myself into a seated position, I see my two cats still slumbering at the foot of the bed, but that is all that is recognizable. I gaze out the window and notice that the leaves on the trees have begun to turn yellow. I refocus my gaze back inside the room and back to my new reality; 47-years-old and back home with mom and dad, except this time I have the company of my 12-year-old daughter and our two cats. This may have been my house many years ago, but this is not the home I created these past 16 years.

The room is still and silent, as it is very early. Both Rebekah and my parents are asleep, so I quietly open the door and tiptoe down the small, narrow hallway to the kitchen. Giggling to myself, I think about all the times I had done this while sneaking out in the wee hours of the morning to meet my friends. The rising sun gives off just enough sunlight so I do not have to turn the kitchen light on. Reaching for the boldest K-Cup I can find, I pop it into the Keurig and lean against the counter with my arms folded, listening to the sounds of a fresh, hot cup of coffee being brewed. “So many memories in this house,” I think to myself. I look over toward the china cabinet and envision my high school friend and I standing in our Madonna-esk, synthetic lace dresses for homecoming. Then, my thoughts trail off to the kitchen of what was my home and I wonder if the new owners are awake making their coffee too. I turn back around to claim my cup from the machine and retreat to my room, leaving my thoughts and memories lingering behind. I slip back through the door that I left ajar, this time more concerned I do not stir the cats so I can revel in my morning cup of sunshine while it’s still hot. I situate myself in a seated position under the cozy covers with my Mickey Mouse coffee mug snuggled between my two hands and stare out the window at the yellowing leaves. “Seasons.” I whisper aloud, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven:”.

It was just yesterday that I was sitting at my lawyer’s office, signing away the ownership of my home. Though it remains one of my most proud accomplishments, it was time to allow someone else to care for it. I had felt an emptiness in the pit of my stomach, an unsettling feeling that kept my mind slightly distracted; maybe it was because I was signing away what I believed to be a fixture of my independence and security. Like a blanket that makes you feel safe and secure, I wrapped myself within its walls as protection from my life and used it as a crutch to control my environment. I had purchased the charming 1920’s cottage nearly sixteen years ago before I had gotten married. After the divorce, it became too difficult to maintain; it just needed more TLC than I was able to provide. Despite all the cracks that covered its plaster walls like an intricately woven spider web and all its quirks that I had learned to live with, I loved the warmth of its hug each time I walked through its front door.

I procrastinated packing for weeks because I knew it wouldn’t be easy placing all the memories into boxes; it felt like I was stripping the house of its life… or was it mine? Each night, after dinner, I had packed the contents of a different room. The house, Rebekah and I would reminisce about all the events we shared together. She loved listening to the stories as the house and I recaptured the memories and retold them to her. “This old house has watched over us since before you were born.” I reminded her, trying to sound more upbeat than sentimental. “It welcomed you home from the hospital in your big frilly bonnet on a snowy March day and sent you off to kindergarten with your adorable pigtails and Minnie Mouse lunch box.” “It has watched every Christmas tree light up with hope and happiness and it has listened to us sing happy birthday to you each and every year.” As I had begun to talk about all our pets, my thoughts trailed off to a more solemn time. Like a reliable and dependable friend, the house had helped me glue the pieces of my life back together when my marriage ended. I had wished I could take the house with me, but I knew it was time to say farewell so we could both move forward into the future to experience new growth.

When the final box had been packed and shipped off to the storage unit and Rebekah off to her grandparents, it was just me, the cats, and the house. I stood in the center of the living room while the cats entwined their bodies around my ankles as if they knew I had needed their support at that moment. “Well kitties, this is it; time to make new memories somewhere else,” I said as I closed my eyes standing in the empty living room remembering Rebekah’s many birthday parties. The laughter and singing that once filled the room echoed in my ears, “Happy birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Rebekah…” Slowly, I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked toward the front door. Hesitantly, I placed my hand on the doorknob, then slowly turned back around to face the barren house, “Thank you.” I said softly, then turned and walked out its door, down the porch steps, and got into my car. I chose not to turn my eyes toward the house again. How many times could we say goodbye?

Driving back to my parents’ house with a car full of miscellaneous items and two distraught cats, I had begun to feel the effects of the two-high paced days. The lack of sleep had started to seep into every limb of my body, making everything seem as it was going in slow motion. For a moment, I had thoughts of pulling into my favorite Stewart’s Shop one last time for a cup of coffee, but the sentiment was too bittersweet and the cats were vocalizing their displeasure. I turned the radio on to tune them out and keep myself alert. The 30-minute drive was a blur, I must have allowed autopilot to take control of my body. All I remember is pulling into my parents’ driveway and unloading the menagerie of contents from my car. With every armload, I had imagined a clown car from a circus with the never-ending items pulled from every compartment. Bending down to extract the last piece of my past, I had pulled out what would inevitably become a part of my future. I stood in the driveway holding a rock from the foundation that my home had been built on; it felt durable and strong. Holding the rock in my arms, I carried it toward my parents’ house. The yellowing trees drew my attention upward. “Seasons.” I whispered with a smile, “To everything, there is a season.”

Live Well~

The Truth about Change

Posted on November 3, 2017July 4, 2020 by twomomsadmin

It’s been almost a full year since I last posted on my blog. I have written several pieces but easily was distracted and never went back to finish them.

It’s been a busy year with many changes. Jamie moved in this past spring, I put the house on the market in the summer, I got engaged on my birthday in July, and I am now moving into a rented farmhouse that needs a lot of elbow grease and TLC. These are big changes and they have set off a lot of emotional responses. Turns out I’m not so great at excepting change and allowing life to usher me into the next phase. It is all overwhelming and when I am overwhelmed my brain doesn’t think too clearly. Maybe it’s the amount of change that has occurred in such a short period of time….?

I looked back at a piece I wrote last January and I was a bit disappointed to find that I am still mending from past events. I have been trekking through this jungle, which I referred to as a “crazy beautiful world” in that January post, for about 3 years. How long will it take for me to stop feeling the aftershocks of my past?

I have found myself in states that were both frightening and liberating. One moment I feel as if I have achieved the gold medal for running the race of life followed by another moment of me laying in a heap in the corner of the room crying, weary and dazed. I want to believe I am on the tail end of those days, but what if I’m not? It’s as if I have an inner compass that spins out of control at times.

Trust, love, and team are words that I struggle with. It has become easy for me to quickly dismiss any connection upon a negative reaction from another. Feeling a strong sense of safety and control in disconnection, I have a growing desire to continue on in life alone. Is this a step in the direction of healing? Does this mean that my co-dependant tendencies are working themselves out, or am I simply trading one emotional issue for another? This sounds horrible, doesn’t it? The battle between fight or flight is not an easy one and challenges me often.

Being the mom I wish to be has become daunting. It is difficult to not only co-parent with your ex that is influenced by a separate household but also with another man living under the same roof with a different view of parenting. It is a stressful challenge to be strong in my own convictions and have two other people’s thoughts coming at me.

I know I haven’t painted a very pretty picture with all that I mentioned above, but these are my struggles and challenges. So many changes have caused me to feel displaced with questions if I am moving in the right direction. I feel like my life has been placed in a blender.

Some days are easier than others, some days seem brighter than others, some days I’m scared out of my mind and other days I am as tough as nails. I pray that God gives me the strength to fight through it all and one day I can look back and say I am a stronger and better person than I ever was.

My prayers and thoughts go out to anyone reading this that has their own personal struggles and battles they fight. Keep on moving forward, there are brighter days ahead, right?

Maureen~

The Next and Biggest Step in my Journey ~ Meeting my Inner Child

Posted on January 17, 2016July 30, 2016 by twomomsadmin

“It’s a journey”, I repeatedly tell myself, “A journey I need to take if I am ever going to rid myself of this debilitating pain of shame and loneliness.”

It’s been a while since I last posted and I wanted to share some of the substantial milestones I have been hurdling. I have been on a journey of self-discovery for most of my adult life and my most recent significant change has sparked an immediate deluge of familiar and unsettling feelings. For those that have been following the portion of my blog, ‘My Personal Journey in Life ’, know my marital status has changed. Not to sound cynical, but it has been one of the best and most significant changes for me. It has allowed me to break free from a life that was not meant for me and in return is helping me to transform into the individual I want to be and meant to be. Without change there is no progress and as I grow older in years I have come to welcome change with open arms, no matter what form it appears in. Change means renewing and a renewing of one’s spirit is a beautiful thing.

I have always carried a feeling of loneliness and shame deep within me for as long as I can remember. I came to understand these feelings as I got older as the absence of a relationship, the scarcity of acceptance and lack of love from my biological father. Little did I know how long and how bitterly it would affect my life.

Thinking back I believe I started showing outward signs of his physical and emotional absence in my early 20’s. My dating relationships were affected by my clinginess. Not all of them, just particular ones that possessed a quality that brought about insecurities I didn’t quite understand at that time. These chosen few would touch a cord within me that would bring to the forefront my deep wounds. I would inwardly and outwardly feel scared, alone, abandoned and shameful. The relationship would end because I would self-destruct unknowingly and unaware of what I was truly doing.

My mid 20’s brought about the introduction of panic attacks and an eating disorder as I was wildly grasping for control in my life; at this point I had no clue how to heal myself or really what was fueling me to feel that I might be mildly insane. Always having such a deep need to understand myself and a desire for peace within my soul, I finally sought out counseling. After several visits with several counselors I found a wonderful woman that helped me begin my journey of self-discovery and healing.

It was about a couple years later when I met my husband at my place of employment. He was 9 years younger than I. At this time in my life I was feeling pretty darn good. I had purchased my own home and was feeling quite independent and happy. We began dating and it wasn’t too long after that we were engaged and getting married. When he proposed I was neither ready nor sure that I wanted to take this monumental step with him, but I did. I didn’t want to crush him, he was very fragile and in retrospect that made me feel strong. He needed someone to take care of him and I unknowingly fell into the role of needing to take care of someone. This was proof that my journey of healing my wounds was long from over. For thirteen years I covered up my wounds and hid them where they were not visible and I created a strong facade. This is what my husband needed and this was a way for me to avoid dealing with the pain within me that I was not yet ready to face. To further my denial, I crafted a shield so thick and strong it could not be penetrated by him or even me. I learned early on before I said, “I do”, that I needed to guard myself from my husband. My inner conscience knew that if I left myself vulnerable and exposed to him, he would rip me to shreds (to his credit – he too had open exposed wounds and never meant me any harm), so I protected myself never allowing him to see my most vulnerable side. I had already endured enough pain and that was the best and only way I knew to protect and heal myself at that time.

Here I am fourteen years later, picking up where I left off. I am still learning how to heal these open and exposed wounds that were formed from the very beginning of my existence. I have just recently been introduced to my inner child; she has decided it is safe to come out from hiding. She is one scared, lonely, shameful little girl. It saddens me that the bright spirit of this beautiful little girl would be so weighted down by things she never had control over, things that were never her fault. How horrible for anyone to experience such anxious, distressed feelings. She has reached out to me so many times, but I have repeatedly ignored her and this made her retreat. She didn’t trust me enough to show me her pain or trust I would accept her and believe her and protect her. I am so relieved to have finally gained her trust and we are working together to heal these open wounds.

I have learned these wounds cannot be healed by any friend or romantic relationship, meaning there is not one person that can fill the gaping hole that was left within me. This took me 24 years to understand and accept. Trying to find someone or something to fill this emptiness was just another way of avoiding the pain and acceptance I needed to face. I now accept that my soul is wounded, that I unnecessarily feel ashamed and guilty for things I never did, that I am angry, truly angry for such an injustice, and for the deep sense of loneliness I have endured. The only way for me to heal these wounds is to become a parent of this little girl that was left to feel abandoned by someone that was supposed to love her unconditionally. I will now insure she knows that she is no longer alone, she no longer needs to feel ashamed for being left alone, and that she did nothing wrong.

I am not sure how much longer my journey will take, but I’m not giving up, I have gotten this far and that little girl is depending on me and I refuse to let her down. I feel like I have climbed a mountain and have reached the top, “I made it! I pushed through! What a sense of accomplishment! I know I can continue and I will.”

Life is beautiful but there are some not so beautiful things that happen in life. It is up to us to push through the things that are not so beautiful and to create beauty where there once was not. The feeling of freedom of a life lived without armor, without fear or shame is attainable if you continue to push through the uncomfortable, painful barriers until you reach the finish.

I share these overwhelmingly very personal trials, experiences, and moments with the world in hopes it will benefit and support others that may be going through similar journeys. I am not embarrassed by my journey because it was meant for me to take ……..and I truly believe, to share as well.

“Share what you know, be generative and pass it on” Joan Erikson

Before I end, I want to thank some very giving, loving, and selfless people that have supported and ministered me to continue to push forward and through – for encouraging me and ensuring me that I deserved understanding, and never lost faith that I would never give up.

Thank you Mommy, Aunt Patty, Vivian, my belated Nanny for loving me like every Grandmother should love their grandchild- as if they are flawless, and to my new friend that has been an amazing support, a breath of fresh air and who came into my life just at the right moment– your friendship is one I will cherish always ~ xo

Aunt Patty- Nanny- and my Mommy

Me and my Nanny

Maureen ~ xo

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