a worm on cement in the sun

12 Aug

In november  when I started this blog experiment,  I was able to point through words to the pain that was playing out in my daughter’s heart.  I didn’t have solutions;  I didn’t know what was going to happen.  While we were trying to find experts and work with their solutions to such things, I also leaned heavily on whomever and whatever I could find that could point me to the deeper thread of this difficulty.

A word like difficulty doesn’t match what I am trying to say.   This raging time was messy, embarrassing, painful, relentless, hopeless in appearance.  Scenes of terror and rage played out in cars, parking lots, closets, mirrors, public places:  scenes of thrashing, smashing, ugly pain at top of the lung out of control hystaria.

My daughter had stepped beyond my reach.  I had never been one for Freudian theories, but truly, as the miraculous visit to a sane Psychiatrist revealed, a classic case of Transference.  Freud did know a few things.   🙂

Eden was unable to rage at her father because he could not listen nor understand her.  He also was not a safe person with whom to work things out.  He has a delusion of who he is, and in this insanity, he is unable to parent, especially in her crisis.  So she took the full weight of her rage and placed it solely on herself and me – the two  most critical  people who could help save her.  She took her rage to the brink of destruction over and over.  It felt like standing on the edge of the grand canyon, while she tied a rope around my waist and proceeded to jump and take me with her into the abyss.

We would resolve and come together but the relief would be short-lived when a word, a look, a call from her father would set it off all over again.

I  am putting words to this chapter, not to relive the past, but to recognize where we are today in contrast to the place we were  in November.  Now I can look it full in the face because we have moved into a new space.  I also visit from my now place on the path with assurance to the frightened me and to any  frightened souls of anywhere where the road gets tough.

Eden has rounded more corners than I can count without the aid of the pills they wanted to prescribe.  She has beat the diagnosis they wanted to pin on her, marched into her rage and out again.  She now relies on her own strength and the strength I am so willing to lend as needed.  This was not the only path through – it is the one that Eden chose.

I am grateful that I walk this earth to be here to see that hope can blossom out of hopelessness  in our little  story.

On our walk yesterday, she stopped to watch a worm making its way across the cement sidewalk in the noonday sun.  I asked if she was going to pick it up to help it not fry as so many worm corpses had done all around where we stooped.

She said no, i want to watch it, to see if it makes it.

And so we watched it make its way.  I was doubtful it would survive. I was wondering if we were just going to watch it die. But wiggle it did and eventually it slithered into the clean line of  grass on the other side, free from the relentless sun, free from the army of hungry ants,  finally burrowing into the cool dirt.

I expressed  dismay while she shared her knowing that it would make it all along.

Here now –  I express my dismay and knowing that exist side by side in me.  What we walk through!  How we help each other!

thank you. thank you. thank you.

Frying on the sidewalk or sinking into the earth, wiggling our worm bodies in joy – we make our way.

19 Responses to “a worm on cement in the sun”

  1. kimberlyharding August 12, 2013 at 11:00 pm #

    I really liked this post.

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:40 pm #

      Thank you, Kimberly 🙂

  2. Kelly Kuhn August 13, 2013 at 12:49 am #

    Oh marga, what a beautiful post! I’m like you and your daughter – move through the mess, do the heavy lifting, and get to the other side. Afterward it’s good, but oh, so painful in the meantime! You are truly an inspiration and I’m so glad you shared this!

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:41 pm #

      this Nice View from the other side I did wonder if I would see. I love doing a bit of a jig here, with you 🙂

  3. Awake August 13, 2013 at 1:35 am #

    Saying yes to life and the mystery of the unfolding along with you my friend. 🙂

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:43 pm #

      tis an Enormous gift to know of Erin as my friend saying yes along with me. Waving way north to you!

      • Awake August 14, 2013 at 11:41 am #

        🙂 Waving back and smiling 🙂

  4. Alison August 13, 2013 at 2:57 am #

    Huge kudos to you, and to Eden. Thank you for this post. Life is messy, and from the messiness, if we’re lucky, we get to wriggle our worm bodies into the cool earth. I’m so glad you two found a way across the path.
    xoxox

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:47 pm #

      Helps me to pull the messay (messy with sas) out and look at it – as often the mind pulls to neaten and straighten the real deal, which is just as beautiful strangely as the flowers – i guess this is a from of composting. so love taking the journey with you – who are so full of life and real. xo!

  5. Allison Carmen August 13, 2013 at 4:00 am #

    Thank you for the inspiration today that even in the greatest darkness light can still find its way in and lead us back home. Beautiful.

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:48 pm #

      I love your succinct understanding. Thank your for sharing these words with me!

  6. seeingm August 13, 2013 at 5:32 am #

    Poignant days blossoming beautiful. November turned to February turned to August…. turns to January turns to next August. Spin spin spin. Crawl crawl crawl… warm moist darkness and all always was and all ways will be well. -xo.M

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:51 pm #

      And my mind jumps to the dark humor for when August turns to december for this brief vessel 🙂 that still all always (all ways) will be well.

      ha. much love!m

  7. prewitt1970 August 13, 2013 at 12:02 pm #

    “oh the places you’ll go” You two had quite a journey, I remember when I first found your page, You should be proud of the accomplishments you’ve made.
    Namaste
    Benjamin

    • marga t. August 13, 2013 at 1:53 pm #

      Forever grateful for your lending of your story and strength to me in those darker seeming days. You inspire in your honesty, marching through and amazing flow of creative expression of your BEing! xo!m

  8. Michael August 14, 2013 at 1:46 am #

    What a touching post… This is authentic courage- to look into the barrel of a dark uncertainty, and make the choices needed to edge away from it, one inch, one moment, one undoing at a time. This is how we remake our world, and discover what is true and real. Thanks for sharing this… Michael

    • marga t. August 14, 2013 at 9:45 pm #

      Your words are so beautiful and insightful. Thank you, Michael. I am learning much about remaking and the discovery of real and true –

  9. caimbeul August 15, 2013 at 2:07 am #

    Bravo…no meds. You both will blossom with the beauty of a rose and the strength of an oak. Blessings to you both my friend.

    • marga t. August 15, 2013 at 1:55 pm #

      The overlapping is becoming so evident to me of late as I get more still – and it strikes me lovely that I begin wondering about Caimbeul early in the day yesterday and I checked your site after not visiting for a long while – and then to wake this morning and find you have made the journey to a screen on the very same day – feeling you – Bro 🙂 Many warm and wonderful Blessings sent to you and all the companions (indoor and outdoor) that surround you in your corner and expression as Mr. M! So treasure these visits!

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