I slept well and awoke and 6am. I was in the pool by 7am. I swam double my usual amount. I swam 66 lengths. 64 equals 1 mile. I needed help to get out of the pool but I felt good!
Monday turned out to be another healing day. I cried non stop for most of it. Yes, as some suggested, I was grieving for the mum I never had. I feel like I have turned a corner now.
I am in much less physical pain. My stomach has settled mostly, just the odd twinge here and there. I don't feel completely at ease but I am very much less fearful.
Yesterday morning, I did some more crying. Not for the first time, I was moved to tears by comments left here on my blog. One sentence in Joan's comment(FugueStateKnits) just floored me. I felt really honoured. I tell you it feels so so so good to be heard. I cannot begin to tell you how enormous being heard is for me.
I know you hear me. I am not calling out in the dark to nothing. I am heard. And I am comforted. I feel consolation rather than desolation. What is more, this goes far beyond us human beings, I feel something else at work here. So much has happened this last few weeks that suggests strongly to me an outside force has been there with me. I will write about that at a future time. I am not ready to yet.
Suffice to say for now that I know as best as I can know anything, that my mother has been with me during this 'dark night of the soul'.
I'm not willing to let this go...
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Knitting is still going on, but I've lost of bit of the mojo. It's OK I
always get it back and I highly doubt it won't this time as well. I am
t...
5 months ago
11 comments:
Just got back from the gym, after having been away on holiday and college yesterday. It was hard going back, but now I have done it I will be back there tomorrow. Re the problems you have been facing, I think the swimming has given your mind time to think things over, that solitude and in those times we reach back into our thoughts. My mother was very abusive to me, making me feel inadequate, afraid, and fearful of the beatings, but now she is gone, been gone for over 15 years I miss her so much. Not the person she was but the person she could have been if I had somehow been able to show her another way. I wasn't old enough to understand why she was like she was, but now I understand more. It doesn't make the hurt, pain and fear go away, but it helps me to understand the why, or atleast what I believe to be the why. I am so conditioned by my childhood that even today there are things I will not attempt, conclusions I will not draw, and projects I will never complete. At least I now recognise that in myself, but at 47 I wish I had have got to this place sooner. I know there is something keeping me safe, keeping me strong, for what purpose I don't know, but only time will tell. Keep going Colin, I am sure the light at the end of that tunnel is getting nearer.
I just typed a huge long message, Blogger burped and I think it just shot into a black hole, maybe it was mean't to be...
You are the most forgiving and loving man I have ever known. I am so honored that you will permit me to be your long distance friend.
Perhaps in that spiritual world, bonds that were broken can be mended and opinions changed. I believe, too, that your mum could well have been with you over these days.
It is good that you feel all the love and friendship people send to you. You deserve every bit of it.
Interesting--I have often felt my mother was with me in bad times.
I am honored to watch your process and am sending you all the vibes I have for comfort and the strength to do what you have to do!
Colin,
Wow. I hope the presence of your mother means there is some deep healing and resolution happening for you. If that is the case, I am incredibly excited for you.
I am very eagerly awaiting your additional postings on this.
Hugs,
Terri
Colin - I'm typing this from work. Have to leave soon for another hearing, so this is brief. But it comes from the heart. You honor me with your trust and your simple kindness. I pray that my clients can someday be like the man you have turned out to be. And I will be thinking of you today as I did this morning at a hearing for a little boy who got to talk with the judge about why he's scared of his dad.
You make a HUGE difference.
Blessings,
Joan
Colin - I'm typing this from work. Have to leave soon for another hearing, so this is brief. But it comes from the heart. You honor me with your trust and your simple kindness. I pray that my clients can someday be like the man you have turned out to be. And I will be thinking of you today as I did this morning at a hearing for a little boy who got to talk with the judge about why he's scared of his dad.
You make a HUGE difference.
Blessings,
Joan
My heart is doing cartwheels for you, Colin, as I witness the healing process you are going through.
You are loved, you are worthy, you are special, and I want you to know that, as hard as your words may be to read, they are being read, every day, by a multitude of people who care deeply for you.
With much love,
Melanie
Colin, I am glad you are feeling better. It has been painful for me to read your suffering. It is good to hear you're feeling better.
I am glad that you are turning a corner and feeling better lately. I've been reading your posts and been concerned about you, although I haven't been commenting. Just know there are many more of us not speaking who care and are glad to know you are making it through the tough times.
Colin,
You left a lovely comment on Ravelry about the Joseph's Coat blanket I am knitting, for which I was very grateful. I've been working on it for more than two years now; it seems like other things end up being more important (silly me), and I don't knit on it during the warm months because it's so heavy.
But today, when I went to the coffee shop where I frequently go to knit with friends, I took "Joseph" along. I usually sit on a couch near the front door, and everytime it opens, a blast of cold air comes in, so I was glad for the warmth of the blanket.
As I was knitting on it, I thought of you, and the comment you left on Ravelry about the colors. But even more than that, I thought of you on your journey, your painful journey. And I thought of how, when I first started to knit Joseph, there were only three stitches on my needles.
I think our painful journeys are like that. We start with just a few steps, and then take a few more, and then a few more, until we're in the very middle of all the hurt and pain, and sometimes think we just can't go on.
While knitting today, I thought of this journey you're making. It takes courage to make it. But in the midst of it, you continue to be encouraging and helpful to people. Your kindness shows through.
You may not be able to see it, but you are sowing your own "yarns" of color along your pathway. They shine through even though things are so painful right now. I like to think that in the end, you will have your own colorful "blanket"; maybe not one made of wool, but certainly one made beautiful by your dedication to the journey.
Aloha,
Mokihana
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