Living from a Legacy

I was thinking on my father today as most of you are spending time with your dads, I’m not able to since he’s passed.  I used to not contemplate this day because I didn’t have a great relationship with him.  It bothered me that my memories were limited.  How could I limit this man into these few perceptions?  I needed to find the better parts of him and in turn find better parts in me. 

I began this exploration a few years ago and curiously enough I realized the importance of offering him a legacy.  Offering his soul the blissful peace it sought in wanting to know the life held goodness.

He taught me to respect Earth.  I was five and stomping away in anger and he gently said “be careful, you’re hurting the Earth”.  This is the moment I became a seeker.  This sentence uncovered my code and I’ve spent many years embracing the deeper meanings I want these words to have in my life.

He pushed a hard work ethic into me.  Today, one of my rewards is producing work that pushes my own boundaries, my own comforts.  My parents owned a factory and at fourteen he had me run it for the first time.  He gave me a maximum and minimum range of production.  I landed in the middle, he was shocked and proud. 

I remember thinking “how am I going to do this?”.  These men, the salt of the earth guys looking at Rahaman’s daughter with impatience.  I could hear their thoughts “spoiled brat, gonna tell me what to do…how she get to run this place, should be me”.  My options simplified my direction.  I didn’t want to go to the store and work because I would have to be around my father all day.  His energy was so high and stressful it wore me out.  So dealing with four guys in their late 20s, attempting to intimidate me seemed easier than the other. 

I ignored their personal voices and stood in the assembly line with them and started working.  I lifted 100lbs bags of flour with help, I never took breaks if they didn’t and by noon, in a room that was a sauna, I earned their respect.  I unconsciously learned how to be a leader and I didn’t even know it.  To not stand above another, rather be by their side.  To encourage voice can accomplish far greater progress than holding onto hierarchy, so when that moment comes and you have to say “no” it’s heard. 

I’ve realized my father could only be distraught because he carried burdensome memories.  A hard thing to bear for any period and this was his life.  He destroyed himself into slivers of time.  Yet he wanted me to do differently.  He taught me the only way he could by throwing me to the wolves.  

I learned how to behave with integrity and never stand above another.  My father couldn’t do this.  My father was fierce, I was not.  He bullied his way through life, I could not be that person.  He never wanted me to be bullied.  He wanted me to stand up to him, not in aggression, rather in skill and gentle handling.  It took me a long time to do that but when I did I saw how proud he was.  He also loved to play…maybe too much.  But he taught me that too and how to take risks, not look back and keep taking the next risk. 

He trusted his instinct like none other.  My parents were broke when they came to Barbados.  My father selling bananas at the bridge for pennies.  Five years later my parents had two successful businesses and sole distribution of several products.  He never allowed himself the belief he couldn’t achieve what he wanted. 

His attitude taught me an important sentence “how bad do you want it?”. I got this message when I heard the naysayer and my knowing didn’t shift.  I didn’t cave into the other persons opinion.  Instead I held my beliefs, smiling within, this is true power.

It’s taken me a long time to see the lessons he’s shown me.  I’ve had to turn around his loud voice and see the man.  Well, the man that he wanted me to see in him, and I’m glad I can.  I can offer him better somethings in living my life in ownership. 

I think he’s glad I was able to turn his life around even though he couldn’t.  I feel him smiling.

“You cannot shout a murmur”

“You cannot shout a murmur”, Mary Angelou

 

It was a screaming voice that yelled “whore, that’s what you are!”

For a 16 year old to hear herself described that way is devastating and shred me to pieces. It took years to put myself back together from that kind of hate. Not to worry, that person has been long forgiven; they knew nothing else. Yes, exhale, I am free of this pain. Much harder to forgive myself for believing the expression and removing it from my existence than forgiving the speaker.

 

I’ve heard loud, devastating words that crushed me and I’ve allowed it to blanket my soul. The hardest pain to bear. I’ve allowed these loud voices in too far.

 

I’m teaching myself something new…and it started a few years ago and came through soft mouths, one of the places blessings come from.

 

One of my sons said “mom you mean to tell me that you and Mark were working on trying to fix your problems for over a year and you couldn’t find a solution? You’ve spend all that time? Mom….mom…what were you thinking? That’s too long mom. That’s just too long.” Both boys looked at me with pained eyes for my experience and told me enough was enough.  They were 11 at the time.  Words spoken with gentleness filled with the offering of a soft place to rest. Words showing that I’m accepted as I flounder, waver and fall…letting me know I’m OK.

 

I want more of this…I’m craving it.

 

I want these types of words to override the loud ones. I’m learning that this is how “I love you” is spoken. I’m changing my view and looking at quiet actions, subtleties and listening to the murmurs. I want to hear what’s underneath.

 

When I thin things out like this it keeps reasoning simple. Gives me the moment to see how I should speak, what I should say and to recognize the really important words.

 

I think I suffered for so long because I lived from seeing the potential in the other.  It’s a beautiful thing to see yet if they don’t want to live from it there’s nothing I can do.  I’m recognizing the difference in language here too.  I have to be honest with the people that are around me.  I’ve noticed that sometimes the conflict may rise to a level of using words that cause a slow degeneration of each other.  The pushing away begins.

 

I used to think this was how things had to end.  I’m seeing how unnecessary this all is.  It’s possible that I could actually give grace to the other person in not witnessing them use words to that level of harm.  The toll it takes on the soul and the human in using such words toward another is tremendous.  The harm energetically ripples around the world until it makes its way back to us.  Then we have to do the painful work to clear this out of our small sphere.  A hard task to endure. 

 

I’d rather leave you with dignity than using or hearing words that tear us apart.  I’ve recognized when the time has come for some things.  A love that only the soul shares and the human may not understand.  I’m learning when silence can elevate the communication and when it can be destructive. 

 

If someone cannot speak from their own desires, not express from the gentleness that resides in their heart, live from diminished intuition, by choice or otherwise, what can we offer each other?  We have a time limit.  Such a relief to acknowledge that.

 

In truth, it’s hard to have our thoughts, words and actions line up. That’s the trick isn’t it? Life is having the courage to admit we’re incongruent and then taking steps to change. It’s also lining myself up with people of maturity, not just adults…big difference. People that are willing to say “this isn’t working let’s see what we can do to make it better and walk away if we can’t find a solution”. No finger pointing, just forgiveness and willingness. 

 

I’m not going to spend months and months of angst over something that no longer works.  Because taking part in these actions keeps us both from our potential.  I’m taking that energy out to the world.  I’m worth more than than, you are too and so is everyone I come in contact with. 

 

My expressions, my morsels, my murmurings that brush against you is hope.  I hope I can remember to offer better somethings.  

 

Strings of Life

“What is life? Is it your thoughts and feelings? Is it about hate, pain and love?

 

We live to learn, think and feel. Many people compare each other, they complain half of their lives, never happy with what they have. They judge other people saying how foolish they are. But they are the foolish ones, their lives are wasted never seeing their own faults. Never listening or trying to learn more, their minds are closed. Is this how we should live?

 

I think not. Life is a beautiful thing, a person should enjoy it. It is like music – we touch the keys and pull the strings. Then new lives are budded, like nature. In the depth of us there is freedom, that now and again breaks free.

 

Why be afraid of each other? We all feel the same, only afraid to talk about it. Then when we do talk we are said to be foolish.

 

Are we for trying?

 

Life is pain, hate, and love, it is also communication and friendship. Don’t throw your life away, learn about yourself and others. Don’t close your mind.

 

Be free.” 

(I found a small notebook yesterday from 1983 with a few of my writings, I was 14.  This is one of those pieces.  It’s safe to say I spent the day in a surrealist state.  This young girl isn’t very far away at all.)

 

See.  Be.  Receive