Monday, August 31, 2009
More thoughts on forgiveness
Notes in reponsie to my previous post (see below)(Thank you, A)
A friend just told me she thought I was very good at forgiving.
Sometimes, I think I am good at "acting"--at pretending I've forgiven--trying to make my wishes to be a forgiving person into a reality that doesn't fully exist, a sort of hyper "acting as if."
The reason I say that is because I wake up in the middle of the night obsessing about something I think I've "released." And then can't sleep.
Somethings that seem like little things--like my husband planting grass seed in my garden without asking.
I get mad at him more than anyone else. I forgive him more than anyone else. I guess that's not surprising, as we spend more time together than we do with anyone else.
But acting "as if"--as if I've forgiven him--just sort of pushes the hurt feelings deeper down where the resurface to bother me at night,
On the other hand, telling him how I feel often provokes a fight. And a long drawn out process which may include lots more to try to forgive!!
I'd like to do a better job of being human. I guess that means forgiving MYSELF for my imperfections, too!
A friend just told me she thought I was very good at forgiving.
Sometimes, I think I am good at "acting"--at pretending I've forgiven--trying to make my wishes to be a forgiving person into a reality that doesn't fully exist, a sort of hyper "acting as if."
The reason I say that is because I wake up in the middle of the night obsessing about something I think I've "released." And then can't sleep.
Somethings that seem like little things--like my husband planting grass seed in my garden without asking.
I get mad at him more than anyone else. I forgive him more than anyone else. I guess that's not surprising, as we spend more time together than we do with anyone else.
But acting "as if"--as if I've forgiven him--just sort of pushes the hurt feelings deeper down where the resurface to bother me at night,
On the other hand, telling him how I feel often provokes a fight. And a long drawn out process which may include lots more to try to forgive!!
I'd like to do a better job of being human. I guess that means forgiving MYSELF for my imperfections, too!
Such Hard Work
I woke up early in the wee hours of morning today, in the darkness, ANGRY yet again about something I thought I'd put behind me. Angry and then depressed. Depressed that I can't seem to let go. I'm angry about a series of relatively small things. What it it were something large? How successful would I be at forgiving?
It's easy to have a holier-than-thou attitude, for me, and think, of course I would do the right thing and be forgiving. It's so much harder to actually do it. And to continue to do it for as long as it takes to succeed. Prayer helps.
(This sunflower is a detail from a quilt made by Marie Zeller from Grosse Pointe Michigan and displayed at the Michigan State Fair. Click on the image to view it a little larger.)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Today's Fractal
I have company coming and a zillion things to do, and what am I doing?
PLAYING! BAD ME!!! (Procrastinating--never do now what I can put
off til later or til forever.)
PLAYING! BAD ME!!! (Procrastinating--never do now what I can put
off til later or til forever.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
“A life spent in the hedonistic seeki...
"A life spent in the hedonistic seeking of personal pleasure is not a good or honorable life and does not lead to the greatest happiness."
(Not real happiness anyway. Empty pleasure and happiness are not the same.)
My teenage son spends very little time with BB and me. When he is with us, he is somewhat surly and unwilling to listen. I came up with the idea of emailing him very short pithy statements in hopes that he will read them in case I have something important to say--important to him, like so and so called and wants a call back. By the time he's realized I'm not conveying that kind of information, maybe he will have registered my point. Or maybe not.
I despair at this point in his becoming a real person, but I guess that's common for the mothers of teenage boys. I'm told be the time they are 35 or 40, they may actually become human again, but I may not live long enough to see it.
What I emailed to him is the part in quotes. BB thinks that PB is totally incapable of applying the wisdom to himself, of seeing the connection, of understanding that I mean HIM. He, PB, the boy, wants nothing other than to hang out with his friends, drink soda, eat junk food, and follow every whim. He constantly wants us to hand over money for foolish purchases, but he is very angry if we ask him to do anything, including clean his room or rinse his dishes and put them int he dishwasher. And he walks out without saying goodbye or telling us where he's going. (Which he just did, and when a friend calls, which one just did, I have no idea what to tell them.)
(Not real happiness anyway. Empty pleasure and happiness are not the same.)
My teenage son spends very little time with BB and me. When he is with us, he is somewhat surly and unwilling to listen. I came up with the idea of emailing him very short pithy statements in hopes that he will read them in case I have something important to say--important to him, like so and so called and wants a call back. By the time he's realized I'm not conveying that kind of information, maybe he will have registered my point. Or maybe not.
I despair at this point in his becoming a real person, but I guess that's common for the mothers of teenage boys. I'm told be the time they are 35 or 40, they may actually become human again, but I may not live long enough to see it.
What I emailed to him is the part in quotes. BB thinks that PB is totally incapable of applying the wisdom to himself, of seeing the connection, of understanding that I mean HIM. He, PB, the boy, wants nothing other than to hang out with his friends, drink soda, eat junk food, and follow every whim. He constantly wants us to hand over money for foolish purchases, but he is very angry if we ask him to do anything, including clean his room or rinse his dishes and put them int he dishwasher. And he walks out without saying goodbye or telling us where he's going. (Which he just did, and when a friend calls, which one just did, I have no idea what to tell them.)
Friday, August 14, 2009
Anger
This is anger. It is hot and strong and dark and scary. Anger is sad
as well as mad.
as well as mad.
This is a left-hand (non-dominant hand) drawing.
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