There are over 100 steps to the various workout floors at the YMCA. One of the activities for the children’s program is to have the children go up and down the stairs several times.
While on my way to a workout level, I passed two seven-year-old boys huffing and puffing on their second trip up the stairs. One boy said to the other, “Gosh, going down the stairs is a lot easier than going up the stairs.”
What insight! Experience is a great teacher.
The boy was only 7 years old. His whole life is ahead of him. How many symbolic stairs will he have to climb during his lifetime? Will he ever discover that it is not what happens to him that affects him, but how he views what happens to him? Will he learn that with the proper attitude, going up these stairs does not have to be difficult?
Although I was surprised at shedding tears over my mother’s death, after 15 years, I know that there is nothing wrong with me. There is no normal when it comes to grieving. After a thousand years, something could trigger tears over her death. The best way to deal with a feeling is to feel it. Suppressing feelings can cause illness.
I cried, but I also laughed at my crying. I laughed because I was feeling smug about being in the Acceptance stage. The Acceptance stage jumped back to the Anger stage. Who knows what stage of grief I am in?
Why not add Confusion to the stages of grief. That would make them the six stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance and Confusion.
So, I am learning to live with the pain, and I am learning to laugh with the pain. And to some I am a pain, but that’s another blog.
So far, it’s a good day.
I was alive when I awoke this morning.
I got dressed all by myself, and I went to the bathroom all by myself.
A minor geyser happened in the washroom at the Finch bus station when the floor drain backed up. Water water everywhere! I managed to get my bags off the floor before they got wet, and leave before my shoes got wet. Whew!
That man, the subject of yesterday’s blog, is not at the library picking his nose and staring at me.
I learned how to calculate percent increase and decrease from a book on fractions, percentages and decimals. (I love learning new things!)
My vision improved. I can see and read more things without glasses today than I could in the past.
I did not win the lottery, but neither did I lose the lottery. I did not have a lottery ticket.
I’m not in any pain, and I feel fine.
I’m still alive!
So far, it’s a good day.
I must dig deep to uncover the first pain that I dumped so long ago. I am still afraid to feel it, but I must. I must. It will be painful and may overwhelm me, but I will survive. It is time to deal with it and all my pain.
Society taught me not to trust myself; not to look inside. The authorities outside me had all the answers. There was no need to go inside. Thus I regarded inside of me as worthless. It became a dump for all my pain. Pain piled on pain piled on pain piled on pain. I thought it would go away. It never did.
I am learning to trust myself. I am learning to trust The Authority within. It tells me to face my pain. It will guide me. There is no other way. Here goes . . .