Yes, the past has things to say. I often feel ambushed by a memory of something my younger self did or said, and feel a tremendous wave of regret and shame and sorrow. I'm not talking about serious crimes, but of the everyday failures of presence and wisdom that are common in the young. In my case, because I was so young when my children…
Yes, the past has things to say. I often feel ambushed by a memory of something my younger self did or said, and feel a tremendous wave of regret and shame and sorrow. I'm not talking about serious crimes, but of the everyday failures of presence and wisdom that are common in the young. In my case, because I was so young when my children were born, I feel that they were the ones who suffered from my selfishness and immaturity. Learning to forgive myself and have compassion for that young girl is an on going challenge. I am trying to be open to the snipper fire from the past, to have a more expansive view, to remember the good times, to learn what I need to learn from the past so that I can live more in the present.
I hear you and feel you, Kathryn! thank you for putting it so: "the everyday failures of presence and wisdom"... ohhh, fellow traveler! (also, I was just talking with a friend and realizing that every single one of my friends who is a mother has at some point shared with me how they feel they have failed, fucked up...). and maybe that sniper fire is just a burst of brilliant starlight calling your wise compassion to expand even more, to hold all of you. (what I try, try, try again, to do for myself).
Maya Angelou's words when you know better do better are my comfort in those predator memories. When we were young and inexperienced, we did not know better.
As someone who was raised by parents that were only 21 and 19 when I was born, I can say that I am happy I got to see them when they were "immature" because that made it feel normal later when I was "immature" and needed to learn. I guess since it felt so natural to me I'm always perplexed instead at how any child raised by already "mature" parents would know how to "grow up". : )
I love this comment, having been (almost) 19 years old when my first child was born.
I had an aunt who liked to say that my sons and I 'grew up together'. The benefit for me seemed to be that I was too young to know to be nervous about mothering, I kind of rolled with it, especially after divorcing at 23! The memories from those years aren't 'rusty ammunition,' thank goodness. They are reminders that I trusted my instincts. If I sometimes got it wrong. I did no lasting harm and my sons are resilient men.
Kathryn, this is incredibly vulnerable. Thank you for sharing this. We ALL make mistakes, whether young or elder. We each have a unique journey that is just as valuable as anyone else's. Others may seem to live perfect and/or beautiful lives, but, in reality, are just as crazy as anyone's. The past is firmly in the past. Take the lessons and bloom, just bloom. XO
Yes, the past has things to say. I often feel ambushed by a memory of something my younger self did or said, and feel a tremendous wave of regret and shame and sorrow. I'm not talking about serious crimes, but of the everyday failures of presence and wisdom that are common in the young. In my case, because I was so young when my children were born, I feel that they were the ones who suffered from my selfishness and immaturity. Learning to forgive myself and have compassion for that young girl is an on going challenge. I am trying to be open to the snipper fire from the past, to have a more expansive view, to remember the good times, to learn what I need to learn from the past so that I can live more in the present.
I hear you and feel you, Kathryn! thank you for putting it so: "the everyday failures of presence and wisdom"... ohhh, fellow traveler! (also, I was just talking with a friend and realizing that every single one of my friends who is a mother has at some point shared with me how they feel they have failed, fucked up...). and maybe that sniper fire is just a burst of brilliant starlight calling your wise compassion to expand even more, to hold all of you. (what I try, try, try again, to do for myself).
Maya Angelou's words when you know better do better are my comfort in those predator memories. When we were young and inexperienced, we did not know better.
Yes, this is one of my favourite quotes too, such an encouragement.
As someone who was raised by parents that were only 21 and 19 when I was born, I can say that I am happy I got to see them when they were "immature" because that made it feel normal later when I was "immature" and needed to learn. I guess since it felt so natural to me I'm always perplexed instead at how any child raised by already "mature" parents would know how to "grow up". : )
I love this comment, having been (almost) 19 years old when my first child was born.
I had an aunt who liked to say that my sons and I 'grew up together'. The benefit for me seemed to be that I was too young to know to be nervous about mothering, I kind of rolled with it, especially after divorcing at 23! The memories from those years aren't 'rusty ammunition,' thank goodness. They are reminders that I trusted my instincts. If I sometimes got it wrong. I did no lasting harm and my sons are resilient men.
It seems to me, from my experience, that children raise parents as much as the other way around. They usher in a new sort of becoming.
What a refreshing perspective! Thank you, Christina, for sharing. XO
What a refreshing perspective! Thank you, Christina, for sharing. XO
Wishing you continued grace in your future past ambushes
I feel exactly this. ‘Sniper fire’ is just the absolute perfect term!
yes!
Kathryn, this is incredibly vulnerable. Thank you for sharing this. We ALL make mistakes, whether young or elder. We each have a unique journey that is just as valuable as anyone else's. Others may seem to live perfect and/or beautiful lives, but, in reality, are just as crazy as anyone's. The past is firmly in the past. Take the lessons and bloom, just bloom. XO
love to you and every you - you've all done your best
Ambushed, yes, that is exactly the word. And "a tremendous wave of regret and shame and sorrow." Thank you for articulating this.
May you be showered with more self love and self compassion.
Thank you.