“Truth is hiding in plain sight, look into your heart. Often, you must close your eyes in order to see what is most valuable.”
One day after my fortieth birthday, the Kaptain and I drove up to San Francisco to see Dr Char about my eye. He told me that I had lost sight on the night of my party because a blood vessel had burst, clouding my vision. The blood would take some time to dissipate, and I would still have my peripheral vision. What a relief. Just when I started to create comfort, he then mentioned that there was a new precarious lesion that he wanted to watch. He doubted that I could have cancer again because melanoma of the eye is extremely rare but wanted me to come back in about three months to make sure. Clearly, I had no control of the outcome and just needed to surrender. Although, I still really didn’t know what that even meant. Surrendering to love and welcoming the opportunities whether you call it, “good” or “bad,” is the ONLY way to release our addictions to life going OUR way.
Surrendering to the “what is” helps us trust in the spiritual nature of life and see that all things are possible when we are aligned with our soul. Our world then becomes a playground to dance, sing, and discover our own innocence, not a mere existence to survive. Let’s see, survive or thrive? You do the math.
I used to cringe when given the suggestion of letting go and surrendering to a higher power. I “thought” of it as weak and giving up. Sure, I “believed” in God, and I was yet to experience the power. When I’ve chosen to surrender, my temptations to earthly addictions cease. It is like magic. No effort necessary. Just a burning desire to know the truth, live the truth, and be the truth. Once we create the experience of peace, we surrender more consistently with grace. We change our perceptions of the world and experience the miracle that is always available. We desire to give because we have it to give. But only to those who are willing to receive it. Love is NOT an intruder and shines unconditionally with patience, compassion, and understanding. Words do not sufficiently describe it. Just being it is more than enough.
I wish I could say that my eye was the only thing that I needed to surrender to after turning forty, but the challenges with my three-year-old son, Krew, were becoming harder by the second. One might say, a great distraction from the fact that my cancer may be back. I was barely surviving, spending most of my days stuck in a new home that the Kaptain and I purchased, overlooking the ocean. Here I lived in a beautiful custom made 4,000 square foot home with an elevator, and it didn’t matter. I felt like I had become a prisoner. Almost every time I would pick him up from preschool, a battle would ensue. He would start by kicking the back of my car seat and screaming at me. By the time we got home, he would hit, spit, slam doors, throw furniture, and not stop until he completely exhausted himself. Being first time parents, the Kaptain and I were clueless. Relatives, friends, and even his pediatrician told me that he was “just a strong-willed boy and the ‘terrible twos’ are lasting a bit longer.” When I spoke about my concerns, the Kaptain would minimize our plight by telling me that he was just stubborn, and “he’ll grow out of it.” As our life became more difficult, I would hear that we were spoiling him and that he just needed a good spanking. My father continued to say, “He acts fine for me. Benign neglect, Kathleen, benign neglect! You just pay too much attention to him.” When I explained what was going on to my mom, she thought he could be possessed (and no, I am not exaggerating). Something was off, but because Krew knew how to suck it up and behave for teachers, doctors, and other relatives, I felt confused. Instead of listening to my intuition, I continued to buy into others opinions of my situation more than what I knew in my heart. I felt like a failure and hopeless, taking parenting classes and even resorting to taking tips from the TV show, Super Nanny. Much of the child rearing was up to me because the Kaptain spent a great deal of time traveling with his job. I probably read every parenting book in the library. NOTHING worked. I then decided to take Krew to see my sponsor. She ended up experiencing one of his relentless fits and pinned him down so that he wouldn’t hit me. It was intense. After he calmed down, she didn’t have much to say except that he seemed to not want to be alive. I knew that she was was onto something, and I feared for my boy’s life. I knew that I had to figure something out and FAST.
From that moment on, I stopped listening to well meaning (and judgmental) relatives/ friends and began to surrender to MY heart. Our lives depended on it, and it was timely for me to stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and follow my own instinct. My husband supported me, and I was a mom with a mission. My first stop was an occupational therapist, who quickly helped me see that a mother’s instinct should never be underestimated.
Krew was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder, “A condition in which the brain had trouble receiving and responding to information that comes through the senses.” She told me that he was an extreme case and that his outbursts towards me was a reverse compliment because he was the most comfortable with me. Although receiving a diagnosis was a relief, I was just beginning to learn how to “Let go and Let God.” I needed a miracle, and I was going to do whatever it took.
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