The Lesson of My Life

This is last night's journal entry.  I consider refining and editing it, but sometimes the raw form is better.  And, I'm too tired.  :)

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November 14, 2015.  Saturday.
Last week was good, much (much) better than the week before.  Mostly because my attitude changed, my awareness increased, my desire and therefore my ability to be a better parent kicked in.  I opened my arms to Nova, and she jumped into them.

She tested me this week too, as all toddlers do, but I'm learning to take it in stride.  She wants to know that when she tests me, I will not freak out, or get angry, or sit in a puddle on the floor and cry.  She wants (and needs) to know that I can handle it.  She wants to know that I want to handle it, that I am up for the challenge and that I will not run away, or decide that I'm not cut out for this job and quit.  She is testing her own ground and her safety in this relationship, and my ability to swiftly catch and return her curve balls will build security and trust.  I really, really want to give her these things.  

So I need to step up, chill out, and constantly, consciously, open my heart to her.  She is not fundamentally trying to make me crazy, even if it feels like it sometimes.  She is experimenting, exploring, learning, and wondering -- what are my boundaries?  What really matters in the world?  Will Mom react the same way when I throw food on the floor vs. when I run out into the street?  She wants to know what is safe vs. what is dangerous, and she wants to know I will always be here to hold her.

I had a Chi Nei Tsang session on Thursday.  It was my first professional experience with this work, and I think it's the right kind of therapy for me right now.  Somatic + meditative + visceral + emotional.  The practitioner is an energetically clear being with bright knowing eyes and a lot of heart.  It was a powerful session and tears flowed, and I was able to clearly acknowledge my resistance to raising a child without George, and the fact that George was my rock, my pillar, the thing that held "family" together for me.  Without George, I do not want a family, children, a life of perpetual responsibility for another human life.  I wanted to share this responsibility with someone, and not just "someone", but George.

He was The One.  The only one I said "Yes" to.  Not only because I loved him, but also because I knew he would hold us together when things got rough, and that together we would figure it out and win.  And so I said "Yes", and then he disappeared, conveniently 9 days before our daughter was born into the world.  And I have been scared shitless ever since, about raising this child on my own.  I am so scared that sometimes I cannot function.

I don't want this.  I don't know how to do this.  I did not choose this.  
These words repeat in the core of my being and it is ALL OUT OF FEAR.

It is not out of lack of desire to have a child, or a lack of desire to raise her alone, or a lack of desire to embark on a relationship that is the most important relationship of my life.  It is FEAR that is causing all of this "No" noise, this internal tantrum, this kicking and screaming about how I do not want to do this alone.

I am scared I will fail.  I am scared I am too tired.  I am scared I am too weak.  I am scared because there is no one else to share the blame when something goes wrong (and things will, sometimes, go wrong).  

As Nova enters toddler-hood and a more dynamic bi-directional relationship evolves between us, all of my fears are triggered.  Her comprehension is high, her verbal communication is developing quickly, and her perception is keen.  I am constantly reacting to her, in both positive and negative ways, and she is reacting to me.  She is, in fact, a mirror to me.  If she is acting out of sorts, I must wonder if I am falling short somewhere.  When she runs to give me a hug, I know I'm doing something right.

And it is, it is all on me.  She is my responsibility, and this relationship between me and her is what everything else stands upon.  George is no longer the pillar.  I am.  I am holding this family up, I am holding it together, I am the only one to make it strong.  Nova is here, and she is entirely present for me, ready and willing with a big open heart to love and be loved.  If there is any part of me that feels angry, or defeated, or is looking for a crutch or the exit door, then I will fail her.  

​This relationship is the lesson of my life.  I used to think that losing George was, but I was mistaken.  My greatest teacher is, without a doubt, Nova.  This child that I created inside of my body is already stretching me and challenging me and changing me in ways that no other human could.  I have nothing else, and no one else, to hide behind.  She is a test of my true desire and willingness to be better than I am.  To give of myself freely, to shed old patterns, to relinquish self pity, and to dive into the wild wide unknown.