Boundaries round 2

Hello boundaries my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again.  I’ve been learning or perhaps re-learning what my boundaries are and what they needed to be.

It’s easy to say to someone ‘hey respect my boundaries’ but how about when I’m not respecting my own boundaries and intuition.

When we are children we start to learn the word ‘no’. It’s usually when we are 2 and it’s the best word ever to say, especially super loud in a building that echoes.  But we aren’t really taught boundaries at least, not how to have healthy boundaries. We are so busy going to school, learning social ‘norms’ like who is cool and who isn’t, learning math, learning history, working on figuring out who we are, and if the voices of our peers are us telling us we aren’t good enough, or that no one likes us, we start figuring out how to become someone everyone will like. We hang out with people we normally wouldn’t, we go places we really don’t want to and we do things, like ditching school and smoking, just to try and please other people. In short, we let people past our boundaries time and time again. No wonder we are so messed up as adults.

I’m at a place in my life where I have a wealth of adventures but not funds. At 45 years of age, I had to phone my Mom and ask if I could borrow enough money to pay rent. Hello guilt & shame, I’ve come to talk to you again. I loathed having to ask her. ‘Hi! This is your adult daughter asking for you to bail her out (again).’ For various reasons, and I own much of this, I am barely making ends meet. Why am I admitting this here, out loud, possibly to strangers who happen across my blog?  Because it sucks and it feels rotten and frustrating and shameful and I know I’m not the only one experiencing this. Too many times we shut down when we feel any sort of shame or guilt or having to ask for help.  I didn’t write this to cause any grief or to be pitied or to invoke my victim self or to shame anyone else, I wrote it for me because I hide too much of my life. It would hurt more to carry it inside rather than blurt it out and leave it on the page. I could have just done this as a journal entry, but what if someone else needs to read this and know that they’re not alone in this world of adulting.

I was reminded beautifully today, in speaking with a friend, that when we run from the pain or try to hide from it, it only delays it. It’s doesn’t go away. It’s when we stand and face the pain of whatever it is we are going through, whether it’s money or addictions or the fear of disappointing someone or shame,  it gets easier to move through the pain and the more we do that, the less fear we have of it.

On the phone today, in tears, I said to my Mom (not verbatim), ‘I know that a couple of years down the road, when I am in a place of abundance, prosperity, financial health & wealthy, and in a place where I can give back, I will look back on this day and know that as much as it sucked, that I had to go through it, that it was worth it just to not ever feel like that again.’ And she said ‘It’s already happened’. I can feel my couple-of-years-from-now self reaching back and holding me and assuring me that all of it, all of the pain, the suckiness, the lack, will be worth it. That I will get through it. And I will be able to send my Mom on an all expense paid trip to Cinque Terre for her 81st birthday. Because 81 is a bit more rebellious that 80.

Seanna: Hey Universe, this one really, really hurts. Like deep in my heart hurt.

The Universe: It means you are alive and you feel deeply. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. Remember the pain of it. That will keep you moving forward and building your empire so you don’t ever have to feel it again. (Yes, I’ve seen your FB and Instagram posts) And keep working on your boundaries and listening to your heart. You mastered step classes in the 90’s and you will master this too. You are loved and supported, always.


The women that came before

I worry about disappointing them, the women that came before, about letting them down, about letting myself down. Disappoint is such a word that invokes a feeling of deep discomfort.

I feel their eyes on me through the ages and I wonder what they think of my life.

Resistance is a bitch, is this angry petulant child that rather than looking at how something could work out, stomps it’s feet and loudly pouts in the corner wanting attention needing to be caressed and coaxing it out with candy and half truths to make it feel better. I am so tired of holding back and living small of not believing in myself and my dreams.

I feel their voices in my heart more than I hear them in my head ‘Little one, do not doubt your power. You were made of stars and wonder, you are more ancient than the Universe and you carry the wisdom of your mothers mothers mother in every beat of your heart and in your soul. You have lived so many times before and this is simply another physical form for you to engage the world in.  Everything you need is within you. All the answers to your questions live within the sweetness of your soul. Listen, little one, listen. You come from warrior queens and gentle women, from men who loved deeply and fought bravely; the blood that flows through your veins ran freely on fields of war and in the fluid of birth. Your eyes have seen birth and death in this lifetime and so many before. You have a depth that is infinite. Listen, little one with the big, beautiful eyes, listen, deeply. You are the cave that you fear to enter. You are the treasure you seek. There is nothing small about you, you are as vast as the Universe.  Your life is a miracle, as were ours, and you are a testament of our lives, our loves, our losses. Reach for our hands in the moments you feel small or feel doubt. We walk with you through this life and all the others that will follow. Reach for our hands when you doubt your worth, your value, your path. You are of the stars and the earth and you are magnificent.  Believe in your magnificence, in your light, in your power. We do.”

I feel them get quieter in my heart and then I feel them standing behind me, honouring the path I am walking and their paths before. And I am grateful.