Tag Archive for: love

A Thanksgiving Blessing Rose Out of a Thanksgiving Rejection.

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One year and nine months after my sister Sherry’s death, I was rejected by those I had once considered family. I was the only one my sister’s family excluded from the Thanksgiving guest list.

Sherry was my only sibling. Being excluded from the holiday table we’d shared my whole adult life was an abandonment from family that I knew too well. It triggered the childhood wounds surrounding paternal sexual abuse and maternal abandonment around it.

The blessing is, my mother rejected their invitation to be with me.

While she couldn’t, and still can’t, discuss my challenges around dad’s pedofile advances in my direction. She could choose me this Thanksgiving. A choice that has lifted a dark cloud that has hung over us for the last 40-years.

What I’ve learned is: my joy is more valuable than anyone’s anger, including my own.

A meaningful life is a coming home to yourself. It isn’t about being a savior to others or being patient and kind at your own expense. It’s about being your own hero. Only then can you be free to create the life you’ve been given.

My REACTION to my brother-in-law’s anger was calm rational. But my underlying TRUTH was tormented confusion about how he could be so aggressive toward me when we’d always been allies. My REACTION to my dad’s pedophilia was silence. But my actual TRUTH was terrified confusion about how he could be a caring father by day and scary monster by night… and where was mom night after night?!

I believed that my cloak of calm and silence were acts of love.

But I now realize, my passivity was not love at all. It was fear. Oddly, love and fear have a similar vibration, only opposite sides of the spectrum.

Difference is, love wants to resolve fear and fear wants to perpetuate anger.

My REACTIVE calm has created tremendous conflict within me. I became, by my own embodiment, the sacrificial lamb (so to speak). I have felt irrelevant by my brother-in-law’s accusations and unimportant by my mother’s absence. But, while it’s true I am a victim in this story, I also accepted the role.

I questioned my own relevance and importance, and coward to their anger and shame. I gave them permission to continue treating me wrongly. And, as the saying goes, people treat you how you let them.

Silence has been my REACTIONARY response, not screaming or blaming or fighting. It‘s time to change my REACTIONS into RESPONSES that reflect my inner truths.

This Thanksgiving I give myself permission to give my mom a second chance at motherhood. Just like she said over our holiday meal, “you kids gave me a second chance at childhood.” And, I also give myself permission to walk away from a brother-in-law who’s ruled by anger.

My mother’s love has been shown through her RESOLVE to stand with me, no matter what her limits may be. My brother-in-law has only showed a unquenchable anger that uses fear to perpetuate it’s destructive wake.

Answer life’s call! Keep your story moving! Be your own hero!
Happy Thanksgiving.

The Cages We Live In

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Like Noah’s Arch, I’ve always found it helpful to care for animals in pairs. Presently, I care for two four-leggeds, two winged-ones, two+ finned-ones. While my adopted menagerie of cats, birds and fish highlight differences between species, the pairs offer comradery within species.

Creating different environments for different animals to thrive has been my task as an animal rescue activist. But only recently have I considered two-leggeds as members of the menagerie. I too began to want comradery.

The winged-ones have been the biggest challenge since adopting a very lovable two-legged man into my world. Each bird had chosen me as their mate, which created rivalry between them, but they united in their jealousy toward my man.

I began to question if I should keep the newest member of my bird-duo. She was aggressive toward my longstanding bird-friend of 25+ years, and after 5-years it’s clear they’re not going to be peaceful comrades.

Every time I serve dinner to my man, she squaks to be included in our feast. She ignites the other bird’s shared, but contained, agitation, and they blast us with siren-like screeching focused on our food and ignoring their own throughout dinner.

This atmosphere isn’t exactly a thriving environment for my two-legged relationship.

But I took this bird on, with all her foibles, when I adopted her. Even if I found another good home for her, my commitment to her would be breeched. No matter how I looked at it, judgment was all I could feel… toward me, toward her, toward my man for being the agitator.

Then I realized, the feeling I get when my bird acts out was familiar! I was being triggered into the, “she doesn’t care about me,” punishing hopelessness, that I’ve always felt with my mother.

No wonder I couldn’t think straight!

After a few deep breaths, I could see that feeding her off my plate was teaching her that screeching reaped reward. To train her to stay quiet, take away the stimuli—cover her cage when serving dinner and save her some for after dinner as a reward for staying quiet.

I’m happy to report, it’s worked! But I still struggled?

Then I realized, the guilt I’ve carried for caging my birds was a part of this saga. They’re born in captivity and would die in the wild, but they’re built to fly free. My mind understands the need for the cage, but my body cringes.

Covering the cage exaggerated this internal argument. The punishing screech was easier for me to bear than covering her, until I had yet another realization. Considering my needs was as important as considering hers.

The root to transforming the relationship with my mom was revealed through my relationship with my bird.

After another few breaths, I could see that the cage and its cover aren’t punishing, they’re used to protect and shield them from threat and excess stimuli. Not so different from my apartment and its curtains.

The cages we live in are not made of metal, they’re made of hardened judgments that allow us no space for process, growth or learning. And the way out, as I have illustrated in this story, is to learn to love.

My menagerie and I are intact and learning to love each other. And my man continues to agitate the love-fest. Now, I can use what I’ve learned with my mom.

Love asks You to Stand in Your Truth

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To create the life we want, we extend into an I-don’t-know-abyss to consider new people and things. And also, stay present in I-know-myself-alliances to manage past people and things.

But what happens when the old things shift you back into the I-don’t-know-abyss?

As I witness my boyfriend, of two-years, I can happily say that loyalty comes easily to him. He treasures his alliances with friends and me. Commitment, on the other hand, creates a lot of internal conflict for him.

I’ve struggled with little things like, chasing his attention and gaze in public places, or craving reassurances about our romance.

To me, commitment means helping a person feel the safety of their loyalty.

So he’s loyal, but doesn’t want to broadcast it. His I-know-myself alliance turns into an I-don’t-know-abyss at curious moments?

There were times I’d freeze with uncertainty.

Perhaps, loyalty stems from one’s internal nature, and commitment is more of an external offering? Whatever it is, loyalty and commitment make my fella feel very differently.

I’ve always felt that asking for attention was needy. I mean, if I’m special to someone wouldn’t it come easily to show me?

What I’ve discovered is, NO. It’s not easy.

What I’ve come to understand is, it’s not easy to stand in your truth if it triggers personal failures, disappointments or self-doubt. For him or I. It’s not easy to broadcast your truth if you’re afraid of another failed effort. For all of us.

It’s not easy to trust happiness when it’s yet to lead you to happily-ever-after.

Recognizing my own fear of the truth, I extended myself into my own I-don’t-know-abyss. I asked for what I needed, and let myself fear being needy! But what actually happened was quite the opposite. I felt confident! And ultimately, I believe he did too!

I let him know, I couldn’t continue in a romance that didn’t make me feel safe. I’d rather be alone and feel safe in my own company.

For a moment we were both frozen.

Then, the other evening a bar-pal said to him, “We used to flirt with woman together all the time, but you’ve left me to my own devices now that Tammy’s around!” Without coaxing, my boyfriend replied, “Because Tammy is my last ONE, the woman I want till the end of my life. I don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.”

His pal was silenced and a male onlooker said to me, “Wow… how does it feel to be that loved!?”

It feels amazing… thrilling… relevant beyond belief!

We have both faced our fears! And, we agree, that love is worth fighting demons for.

Extending yourself into the I-don’t-know-abyss for love asks you to stand in your truth. It feels scary because when you stand in your truth you stand alone… until love catches you.

Choosing You to Reclaim Love

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We all know people whose identity is wrapped up in being the funny, smart or artistic one. And their sense of value is dependent on broadcasting that “thing.”

Their comments regularly remind listeners of this “thing” they believe makes them lovable using shocking jokes, speaking above the mean, or belittling the artistry of others. Not considering how it may make others feel.

Unless you’re the butt of the joke, the one who doesn’t understand or whose work is being judged, their comments generate laughter, status and awe.

But, what do you do when you’re the butt of the joke?

I’ve experienced being under the weight of a funny guy and an artistic mother. Both of whom, had no intention to hurt me, only to broadcast themselves as the “thing” they valued so much. In fact, I don’t believe I even existed in their inner dialogue at all.

This was the problem. I was hurt just by being associated. Deeply hurt. And they were oblivious to it. They didn’t see that their behavior valued the “thing” more than me.

In both instances, I first tried to validate their popularity and appreciate their talents, in hopes that they’d gain enough confidence to stop throwing verbal daggers. Of course this didn’t work, they were completely unaware of any casualties.

Then, I tried to defend my self and my artistic works, but this was met with complete disinterest. So, I decided this was an opportunity to build my own self-confidence. Why not turn lemons into lemonade!

But, no matter my level of confidence, being around them eventually began to feel unsafe. So, I let them know my feelings. I lost my cool, you might say! And, their response was bewilderment. “How could you feel this way?!” I was dismissed and they continued.

Finally, in both situations, I had to turn my back on them. I had to love myself enough to walk away… at least temporarily. This is what it took for them to look at themselves and consider their actions.

Love makes us want to uplift each other, stand by each other. So we can weather a lot before walking away from it or them. Love is also precious. So we don’t turn our backs without due cause.

I learned that loving myself is the answer to reclaim love. Even when the action of turning my back seems unloving. Because it asks them to love themselves enough to be loving to me. And, my own self-love soothed the swallowed hurts that had accumulated from loving them through their assault of unconscious daggers.

The phrase, you can only love another as much as you love yourself, has never felt more true. For them and me.

May we help each other grow in love, forever and always.

Life and Death Unite in my Spring Garden

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My Spring Terrace Garden Clean Up

Since my sister’s death I am often visited by her.

Have you ever had a dead person visit you?

It’s easy to explain it as wishful thinking. And, maybe it is? But the timing and unexpected nature of her visits lead me to think otherwise.

It can feel like she’s hanging out in the corner of a room witnessing my actions, (usually when I’m challenged by something or someone), and she chimes in occasionally to help center or advise me.

Other times, she suddenly appears as a large bird flying over head at a moment that would be meaningful to her. (Driving by her house, picking up my mom, leaving her thrift shop—The Very Sherry Boutique—now run by her best friend.)

The most intimate and recent way she visited was when cleaning up my terrace garden. (And, she had just flown overhead as mom and I drove out of the nursery the day before with new spring plants!) She always loved gardening!

I had many big brown bags from her thrift shop with The Very Sherry Boutique scribbled on them. I decided to use one to collect the dead plants that didn’t make it through the winter.

As soon as the bag was opened up and prepared to collect the prickly dried-out plants, there she was! But not at a distance, like usual. I could feel her steer my mind and body from the inside out.

• She reminded me of every tool I needed from inside, as not to make my usual multiple trips that traipses dirt through my apartment. I was so clear-headed.
• She directed me on how deep to dig the holes for the various plants, and I argued with her as usual, and she was right as usual. We giggled (as usual).
• She guided my hands when transplanting the young plants, tenderly splitting the root balls apart. She splits the roots a bit differently than I!

It was as if she wanted to feel the garden dirt through me.

She made me slow down, as not to miss the sensations my body was having. She reminded me that every moment of feeling life through my physical senses is fleeting. She reassured me, though, that death isn’t the end, but a new beginning.

She showed me that neither living or dying are absolutes. It is up to me to live fully enough—feel wholly enough—to bridge the gap between us. And so, I keep one eye open for her, and encourage my sixth sense to grow in the name of love. A love we did and didn’t share when she was alive.

Love is powerful. It’s an invisible gateway. It lasers through time and space, and is the most influential teacher of our Universe.

How have you experienced your loved ones after they’ve moved on? Please comment about it!!

 

Tammy Unicorn Onesie

Belonging isn’t a Place, it’s a Feeling

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Tammy Unicorn Onesie

Like one of Santa’s elves, my typical Christmas is spent driving 100’s of miles in a rent-a-car sleigh filled with presents. Christmas carols are sung from NYC to the Catskill Mountains, then onward to NJ, where I’d land at my sister’s house for Christmas dinner.

But when my sister died this year, so did my Christmas dinner landing.
Within that loss, was the magic every holiday promises.

I’ve chased “belonging” in my family of origin my entire life. But truth is, I’ve always felt like an outsider. What I didn’t realize was, this chase had blinded me. “Belonging” isn’t restrained for only the place I’ve called home.

This Christmas, I tried to gather with my sister’s family, but to no avail. Disappointed, but not defeated, I found solace in having my first Italian Christmas dinner with my boyfriend’s family.

So, in frigid temperatures that made my sinuses freeze, off I went in my rent-a-car sleigh for a round trip songfest to the Catskill Mountains and straight back to NYC!

When I arrived in the mountains, I come to realize my frozen sinuses were more than a cold head. My body now ached from head to toe.

Cousin Deb gives me a long overdue hug and says, “I’m so happy to see you!”
It’s been 2-years—preCOVID—since we last hugged. I say, “It must be nice to see another face besides your husband and child’s.”
They live off the beaten trail on a beautiful mountain property. She says, “No. It’s you. I’ve missed YOU.”

This was the first stir of “belonging” in a new and profound way.

I stay 2-nights, till Christmas morning. Sick, with what I later learned, was the flu. (My first flu ever! Ugh!!)

Not once during that time did cousin Deb or her family make me feel unwelcome due to my unexpected illness. She took such good care of me. Medicine, constant fluids, food prep, blankets, and a unicorn onesie to keep me warm (a special offering from her daughter Becky) we’re in continual flow!

Late Christmas morning I hug cousin Deb goodbye with tears in my eyes. My heart gripped, like I was leaving a home I had just found—I felt unconditional belonging here—as I pull out of the driveway.

As the black sheep of our perspective families, through the years cousin Deb and I compared notes and sympathized with each others stories. But until now, that bond had kept me an outsider. Perhaps, with my family unit dismantled I felt the opening that was always there to feel the “belonging” I sought with my cousin Deb?!

Upon arrival in NYC, I’m told that my illness would make the guests at my first Italian Christmas uncomfortable. And, of course, I didn’t want to make people sick. It only struck me, because it was in such contrast to cousin Deb. I wanted to “belong” with my boyfriend’s family.

Here’s the thing… for years, I was so wrapped up in what I didn’t have, I didn’t see what I did have. I went from chasing “belonging” with my birth family to my boyfriend’s family. And, all the while, belonging had always been there with cousin Deb. I never had to chase it, I simply needed to see it.

I am so grateful to cousin Deb (Ken and Becky too) for loving me up for Christmas. In sickness and in health.

Do you have a Belonging story? Who was it with? Share!
Happy New Year!!

What is Good Sense?

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First of all, good sense lives in your body. Your mind is the messenger.

You know how it feels to be unhinged?

Your body twitches; your mind haunts. Fear is your emotional guide.

You “will” yourself to think positive. But, you “feel” possessed.
And, you are. From the inside out, unresolved, misaligned, uncertainty breaks you, with no strings attached to find your way back.

Anxiety’s fear overwhelms the whisper hope holds.

While I craft ornaments, shop virtually, and wrap holiday gifts, I feel inspired by love; yet, in the quiet spaces between tasks, I feel engulfed by the belief that I am unloved.

A familiar feeling that grazes the surface of my everyday life. But right now, under the shadow of the plague that killed my sister, it is rising into full force.

I have COVID again.

I’m isolated at Christmas time, for the second time. Canceling holiday gatherings that had crafted a sense of belonging into my first sister-less Christmas.

After a week, I eagerly test again, only to find that I’m still COVID positive.

A pendulum inside me swings between extremes—my greatest fears and greatest hopes. I’m unhinged.

It feels like everyone is moving ahead. I can’t keep up. I’m afraid of losing everything that matters to me.

Alone, and uncharacteristically lonely, my mind desperately spins. I try to figure out how to fix this recurring sense of unlovability. But the only thing I come up with is, who to blame and why I have the right to feel if. Neither, of which, help me feel better!

I need to silence the haunting voices! Separate from my story!!

Balance asks us to relax into the emotional body, with the same degree of attention, as we express the emotional mindset. Extreme outward emotion opens a deeper path for inward resolution.
Tao Principle

Exhausted, I prepare an epsom salt bubble bath. I slip into the elixir. My world slows down. My aching head slides under the water. Instant silence.

The water feels soft on my skin. The warmth cocoons me, except for the parts that break the surface into the cool sharp air. I hear a bass beat from music, without a melody, as if it were a heart beating. My thoughts stop. My body’s soothed.

I keep my ears submerged in the silence until time disappears. (This was a long bath!)

When I rise out of my wet cocoon I feel like myself again. My joy de vive is back. What had been “unhinged” is now “aligned.” I feel a peaceful vulnerability. Like Bambi standing up for the first time.

I wonder if the unloved voice will resurface?
I stay in my body’s senses and listen. I return to my Christmas preparations, witnessing and reining-in mindset relapses. And, in the doing, that peaceful alliance grew stronger.

Your body’s an energetic antenna that can steer the mind’s attention. You hold the reins for change.
Tao Translation

Delighting in sensations, lift us out of our shadow worlds. They usher us into an expanded world. A world where belonging, hope and love live in the space between tasks.

Thinking emotions—understanding your triggers and causes—manage them. Changing emotions asks you to deliberately feel something else—sense the life you want through your whole being—so mind and body unite.
This is Good Sense!

Mind body alignment is self-love that aligns your world.

May the quiet magic of the season cocoon you in the soothing heart beat of Love.

Comment with an aligning anecdote or response.

Rings of Engagement

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Five-days beaching with Anthony at the Jersey Shore led us to rings of engagement. Two floating rings—a silver ring for friendship; a gold ring for love—now hang from our ears. We’re engaged in a 1614 Corinthian quote, “All that we do be done in (friendship and) love.”

The playful division of an earring pair on the Asbury Boardwalk expanded into a conversation around what to call them. As we walk away with our purchase I say, “we have friendship-earrings!” pause… “They’re like wedding rings,” Anthony shouts. I reply with, “Well, how about engagement rings.”

Together we engaged in all that Asbury offered: waves, sand and salt air; food, cocktails and classic cars; Springsteen, The Stone Pony and Frank’s Diner. We brought friendship and love everywhere we went. People commented on the delight they experienced through us.

Then after check out, on our final stroll through the boardwalk boutiques, a bracelet caught Anthony’s eye engraved with our Corinthian quote. We begin our trek back to NYC with the bracelet in tow, delighted by our journey’s magical unfolding.

Our first vacation, without friends as chaperones, united us in the principles of friendship and love, symbolized through jewelry.

Not with traditional rings wrapped around fingers that lead to promising your SELF to another. But rather, rings floating from ears that lead to promising your FRIENDSHIP and LOVE to another. A code of conduct versus a promise of coveting.

We returned home just in time for my 60th birthday party. I’m surrounded by old and new friends. I realize that every relationship in the room has asked me to stretch my SELF to honor friendship.

These relationships have stood the test of time and change. These friendships all carry the unspoken ‘silver’ promise to align in the best interest of each other with respect for differences. This promise makes for deep friendships that don’t need day to day tending. And, can survive months or years of distance without dissolving.

I think about the principles of love and what is the unspoken ‘gold’ ring promise?

Different from friendship, I think that love reflects an interest in day to day tending?

Wanting to engage with each other in the mundane to grow; rising above fears to engage with each other as individuals to mature; and, living free to frolic in life just for fun, to keep birthing depth into unity.

Perhaps, love asks us to stretch our SELF beyond respecting differences, to find the common ground within differences. This promise makes for a union that evolves each individual into their life purpose. A purpose with wings that fly beyond our union to offer our light to the world.

Our silver and gold pirate-like rings dangle with the delight of choosing one another to help sculpt us into our greatness.

This is about allowing our self to be touched, changed and elevated by another.

How the Dead Communicate

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My sister’s last days, once released from the COVID ward, was in an induced coma on a respirator. We all wondered if she could hear us talking at her bedside? And, I for one, continue to wonder if she can hear now that she’s dead?

On the welcome table of my sister’s thrift shop, now run solo by her best friend and business partner—Missy, stood a new center piece protected by a glass globe. It was a construction paper sculpture of an eagle, crafted around an empty toilet paper roll.

Missy explained that her granddaughter came home from school, overjoyed about her art project and said, “this is from GG Sherry.” (That’s what she called my sister!)

Missy continued to explain that when sitting at my sister’s bedside, between respirator beeps and nurse intrusions, she had asked my sister to give her a sign when she was peacefully settled on the other side.

And, as she described it, it was ‘agreed upon’ that the sign would be channeled through a large bird.

There it was. An eagle made of construction paper, channeled through a child, communicating my sister’s peaceful arrival in the land of the dead.

I was delighted by the story and my time with Missy, who gives me a kind of sister-hit whenever I stop by the store! When I left, I went about my day of responsibilities, driving mom to doctors and managing her needs and stuff at the Senior Facility where she lives. The paper eagle was out of mind.

Then something extraordinary happened!

After learning that, what had been my sister’s home, was now going to be rented out and would no longer house my mom’s extra-stuff. I started my drive back to NY in tears. My sister’s family was moving on. I felt totally alone in caring for my mom.

These are the moments I miss my sister the most.

Suddenly, a hawk with a wing-span the width of my windshield swooped down in front of me. Sharing the same wind current at 50-miles an hour, this huge bird and I breathed the same air!

Without hesitation I cried out, “Sherry?!”
And, as if she was sitting right beside me I heard, “you got this, just rise above the ache in your heart.”
Then, just as quickly as she arrived, she rose up into the sky out of sight.

There it was. A hawk traveling at 50-miles an hour, channeled by my heart’s cry, communicating my sister’s fierce support in the land of the living.

It’s so easy for the mind to discount the idea of channeled communications from the dead. But the body hasn’t the capacity to dismiss such pure connections. My experience with the hawk was as real as writing these words.

We are, after all, made of energy. In life contained; in death dispersed. In either case, love is the thread that weaves us together. A love that never dies. A love, I’m learning, that lives eternally.

 

Significance of Sisterhood

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When my only sister and sibling died this year, I mourned the comfort of sisterhood. This ending of sisterly familiarity, understanding and inclusion gave rise to a new kind of sisterhood. Feminine UNITY, VISION, and BEAUTY.

When death creates an opening, a blank canvas replaces it inviting new life. In the past month a cocoon of feminine energy has engaged me with that blank canvas.

Ten years since my last stage performance, I’m now invited to dance with a belly dance troop from my past. Our ensemble of four, danced to raise money for an aging belly dancer who has mentored the dance community and provided a dance studio devoted to UNIFYING belly dancers worldwide.

Together we danced for a cause that UNIFIED women through rhythm and grace. This sisterhood offered me a sense of belonging in the world.

When my sister died, her two sons tattooed a graphic from her favorite sewing machine on their left forearms, changing the word Singer to Mom. It included a golden heart with a bow tied inside. A VISION of gifting love. Like the crafted items she sewed.

A female Russian artist and I designed a unique tattoo that included that golden heart that’s now engraved on my left hand. A revised VISION that combined what was meaningful to me and artistic to her. This sisterhood offered me a sense of participation with the world.

Noticed for my eclectic style, I was approached by a local curator of Israeli designs to model her clothes. I was soon in her studio with another female model, female stylist, and female photographer. We each brought a unique BEAUTY to the collaboration.

Together we made a whole. Each of our BEAUTY magnified each other’s. This sisterhood instilled a sense of self offered by the world.

Sisterhoods build UNITY, VISION and BEAUTY, but are built from the familiarity, understanding, and inclusion my sister bestowed on me. A sisterhood, I’ve come to realize, is a microcosm of the bonds we can keep having throughout our lives.
If we let it be so?

Sisterhoods change “I” into “we” consciousness.

They are a needed bond in today’s world. They liberate your confidence for personal freedom. And, they develop your curiosity fostering social acceptance.

Sisterhoods offer the safety to dig deeper into personal experience, to gain control of yourself without needing to control another.

Sisterhood is:
• Familiarity with another human—a bond that nourishes your VISION of yourself and with the world.
• An understanding that you’re an integral part of a greater whole—a celebration that BEAUTY is unique, unquestionable, and given to everyone by the world.
• And, inclusion in the evolution of humankind—a love that UNITES you with others as an aligned and collaborative force of goodness in the world.

The relationship with my sister, before and mysteriously even more penetrating after her death, has reassured me that I not only belong in this world, I am significant.

Sisterhoods remind us who we are and celebrate what we contribute to the world. They are a treasured gift. A gift that can keep giving again and again as we actively create these life affirming bonds.