Self-Loving Kindness

PHOTO by Patricia

One of many misfortunes of having the stomach stapling over 40 years ago at my mother’s urging, is this sensitivity to water and any possible contaminates in it. The last three days have brought me down with no apparent reason for a gurgling painful stomach other than possible irritants in the changing bacterial count from our public water.

It may not affect others, but does me, and sometimes drastically with an infection only dealt with by a prescription from the doctor to kill off the pesky organisms. It feels a bit better each day so it probably won’t come to that this time.

But it does, once again, bring up the hate for my mother. Always a testy relationship filled with love and hate all at the same time. Not something wished on anybody. Fury and warmth, clinging to any form of the latter but hardly quenching my thirst for love because it is only now that I’m able to begin to show kindness to myself and appreciate all that my being forged through.

Love from another won’t fill me up, love for myself does that. That quest is ongoing after a life of the opposite. But that hate? Mom wanting a thin daughter. Was it out of love for me, or was it because a fat daughter was not good for her?

Kicking at the ice topped snow while walking the white glistening meadow, it occurred to me as the talk to myself continued, that yes, she urged quite excitedly to look into that surgery which would magically change my life. But as a fully grown adult, the choice was mine.

True, yes, yet though my body was matured into the 30’s, my emotional being was stuck at a much younger age where all growth essentially stopped.

So the hate isn’t all for mom, there’s plenty for myself. But that isn’t the way forward. Forgiveness is, for her and for me. Hate won’t propel me onto the path of happiness, peace, and wholeness. Only self-loving kindness, a path that is softer and sought out with focus.

Through focus the old grooves can be tripped onto new ones by remembering who I am, where I came from, and how I moved through the necessary stages of life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s