Life as Art » Truth

Conflict

Natalie — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 19:30:56 +0000

I’ve been thinking a lot of conflict lately. More like the good aspect of conflict rather than the fear of it. Unfortunately we live in a culture dominated by fear of conflict, we’ve all backed down from our truth in order to avoid conflict at some point, and then felt badly about it later…realizing we kind of betrayed ourselves. I hate that, but I know it’s an inevitable reaction sometimes, because I’ve been so conditioned to avoid anything remotely resembling conflict. As a child I often witnessed unconcious conflict that was mean, vicious and hurtful, it left everyone who was in its path shattered and raw…there was never any healthy resolution, only a heavy painful silence afterwards…and so I learned to fear it, and do anything to avoid it. That totally backfired, because I learned to distrust myself, because I had stopped living my truth, and was just trying to appease others in order to avoid conflict. Now after more than a decade of digging deep, weeding out old systems that had been learned by such experiences, I’ve had the profoundly healing experience of learning how to have healthy conflict, how to stand strongly in my truth, tell my truth, push and pull with another person and yet still be loving. It’s with utter gratitude when I say that conflict can be empowering…to both parties. Conflict usually comes about from anger, a feeling that a boundary has been crossed, a need to say ‘That’s not ok with me!” And if I am willing to express that a boundary has been crossed I have an opportunity to learn about myself. Why I have this boundary in the first place; where it came from. What needs to be healed in that particular spot. Conflict = Contact. Human contact. And when we share who we really are on a deeply personal level and really are able to listen to another person on a deeply personal level, we have the magical experience of understanding ourselves and another through genuine empathy and compassion. Learning healthy conflict gave me the door to learn amazing things about the people I love. It requires a certain kind of power and it builds power in each person who is willing to stand in their truth. I see their own passion, the ‘why’ behind it, and the gifts that come out of it. In my little family now, we conflict often and conciously, shout and cry loudly and in front of each other and anyone who happens to be around…we know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, not something to do behind closed doors. Anger is often expressed. But the distinction that is always clear to me is that it’s anger to express our own stance, not anger meant to hurt another back. And always in the midst of it, I am conscious that I need to model loving resolution to my children…so I always search for that percentage of responsibility I need to be accountable for and we all get to apologize, make amends, resolve and problem solve it together and end with a loving cuddle and tickle. Conflict = contact people!! Learn it and love it!!

The Truth is

Natalie — Sat, 01 May 2010 02:57:18 +0000

The truth is, no matter how bad it gets, I can always look in the faces of my beloved Grant, Lula and Max and see their shiny beauty and love, and be comforted and amazed that they are my family. My cherished ones.

The truth is, occasionally I feel like a failure. The truth is, sometimes I feel such a well of deep sadness, I simply don’t know where it comes from. The truth is, sometimes, I don’t want to get out of bed and be a leader. The truth is, sometimes, I just want to lay there in fetal position and hide, hide and hide. But I get up. I get up and look myself in the eyes and I see myself. I get up and face myself and I am kind to myself, even if this kindness feels incredibly unnatural. And sometimes getting up and facing myself feels like the hardest thing in the world, but I do it for me, for the kid who dreams. For the dreams I’ve already achieved, for the dreams I have yet to achieve. I do it for my children, so that they may one day face themselves even when it feels impossible. This is courage. This is compassion. This may not appear to be some huge daring feat of bravery, but bravery it is nonetheless. I forget this sometimes.

The Kid

Natalie — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 20:08:12 +0000

So right now I feel like I need to write but not sure where this is leading me. No major theme, except maybe about the kid that screams in all of us when it gets neglected. Nothing much, just a wee little topic. Don’t know why I wanna write about our kids, not the kids we bred from our loins, but the kids that we still are. WHAT KID??? I don’t have a kid. I’m not a kid. I’m an adult. I’m not that kid anymore. I have to be an adult now, I’ll be ridiculed for showing any childish behaviour, I’ll never be taken seriously for having any illogical non linear thought patterns or irrational arguments or emotions. So what do you think happened to that 3 year old, that 5 year old, that 8 year old, that 12 year old, that 15 year old that you once were? Just went away? All those feelings all rationalized away now? That kid no longer EXISTS? That kid not YOU anymore?? Fuck that shit and you know it. Being a kid was a gift, a gift of honesty, a gift that you need to look at if you ever want to do anything you’re passionate about, and if you ever want to have a truly intimate relationship with any other human being, especially your partner in life. This is what compassion is about, people; this is where you find it for yourself and feel it for others.

I’ll tell you something I know, from my own kid in me and from my offspring kids Lula and Max. If we aren’t getting something we need, we speak up through our behaviours. And guess what? Everyone does this, no matter how growned up. Behaviour may get squashed a bit more, it may get controlled a lot, it may have a lovely veneer of verbal bull attatched to it, even outright projection onto another or flat out denial, but some telling behaviour will show up in some form or another if there’s a strong emotional need that isn’t getting met. Sidebar skills of all my own personal development, psychology and acting studies: I’m a passionate behavioralist at heart. I see behavior in people and I can see all too clearly what’s going on with them based on their behavior not their words. Behaviour gets expressed in body language, in facial twitches, in the energy you can feel radiating from someone and the choices they make. Hell, sometimes I WANT to ignore the evidence in behavior and believe those rational clever words that create justifications for the behavior, but the truth of the situation always prevails doesn’t it? We may not have the verbal skills to express what we’re feeling, particularly when we’re feeling it, especially children, since verbal skills require the left logical linear rational part of our brain that may not be that well crossed over with right side of our brain where emotions are processed, so the short of it is : if some emotion is really rearin’ to get out, the first way out is through our BEHAVIOR.

I don’t know why I need to write this, but this behaviour in itself is interesting to me, because I tend to watch myself. I trust my behaviour more than my thoughts to tell me what’s really going on with me.

So…anyone want to take a shot at it, just for practice? Sometimes it’s easier to practice on someone else first before you practice on yourself. (By the way, your judgement of me is really none of my business) Also, I get that I’ve WRITTEN, which is verbal in nature, but it was really mostly a free association kind of a blog… plus, i got good crossover when it comes to writing. A few things I’ve discussed so far: The Kid, Neglect, Denial, Compassion, Behaviour, Wanting to Ignore, along with the behavior of writing on my blog….to an audience…

Pretty easy huh?

Gotta go have a bubble bath, a cuddle and a play now.

PS. Below here is a link to an AMAZING documentary on Children and Compassion:

Children Full of Life Documentary

Bravo to the brave ones.

Holiday Truth

Natalie — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 21:13:39 +0000

December always brings about a great deal of ambivalence for me. Actually, it starts in November but December is the real count down to Christmas. I hate it, I love it, I hate it, I love it, I resent it, I don’t want to give anyone a damn thing, I want to give every soul I meet on the street a present, I am totally ambivalent. I like that word: it means to feel two opposite feelings at the same time. Not somewhere in the middle, but OPPOSITES at the SAME TIME. I resent Christmas because a lot of people get sketchy around this time of the year. Down right WIERD. Super controlling, strangely cheerful, and totally anti-anti-Holiday spirit. It’s not ok to be a scrooge. It’s not ok to dis Santa. The cultural code of conduct is strong around this time of the year. And if you don’t know anything about me by now, it’s I HATE THAT KIND OF SHIT.

I’ve been having attacks of guilt about lying to my Lula about the existence of Santa. Like I do EVERY TIME this time of the year rolls around. When she realizes that we’ve LIED all these years, will she resent us and will everything we’ve ever told her seem like a LIE? Will she doubt everything we say after this big revelation? I’ve heard that for some people, the finding out about the lie of Santa is a HUGE shattering of trust of their parents…like, what else did Mom and Dad lie about….waitasecond…there’s the tooth fairy, there’s that bunny that lays eggs, there’s the virgin mother, there’s how raisins used to be grapes, WHAT ELSE IS A LIE???? But then I compare the Santa Fairy lies to years of crushing disappointment that I experienced when I would come racing down the stairs to look in a very lame burgundy stocking I made for myself only to find it empty, I just don’t know what is right. Even though I was never fed the lie of Santa, I wanted to believe. Clearly, I’m ambivalent and well, maybe this is all just the time of the year where I get to really grapple with my human nature as a CONTRADICTORY AND LYING COW OF A BEING. Maybe that truth-about-Santa- moment is the beginning of the life lesson that some lying sons of bitches are a.) actually somewhat still loveable and b.) our parents.

It’s never more apparent than in this season, that LYING is ok. Like going to all those damn Christmas parties, because you want to see all these people you never hang out with normally and that you’d never ever call in a million years. All to make small talk where you pretend to care about the fucking turkey and to stuff down your feelings with a disgusting remnant of mince meat pie. Hey, I admit it, I am not immune to the bullshit. I do it. We all do it. So embrace the bullshitter in you this season. Unless you live far far away on a tropical island that does not celebrate the winter season because you don’t have one, then, it’s time to HUG YOUR INNER LIAR. Maybe even have fun with it. Tell a made up story and watch people react to it, just for fun….oh, hey! waitanuthersecond, we do that to our children!! We are totally screwed up. (This is the real Holiday message, yah?)

Yet the truth is also that I STILL want a full stocking when I wake up. I want to see the DELIGHT on my children’s faces when they see a bunch of Christmas lights that some wackos spent crazy amounts of time and energy putting up. I want to eat that fucking turkey with stuffing and gravy and cranberry sauce and pumpin pie. I want to drink eggnog and mulled wine. And I want to be surrounded by people whom I consider my kindred family. The people I can let my hair down around, the people whom I have the most fun with, basically the people who are comfortable enough with themselves to be comfortable around me, because I’m a different sort of wacko.

This is why I look so tired.

Natalie — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 07:16:51 +0000

SO TIred. is how i feel. And how I’ve felt much of this year. I know I’m a broken record to people who ask, but it is what it is right now. Max is now one year old and still wakes up at 4:30 in the morning expecting me to come and help him go back to sleep, usually with the boob. I just want to sleep right through the night until a reasonable hour like 7, (and I can’t believe I’m saying that 7 is a reasonable hour), for like 3 days in a row. I remember when I used to think anything before 9 was too early. This little Max is pushing, pushing pushing all handle. I need a week off the kids. I need a BREAK. I am so rarely ALONE, without a soul around me ALONE and now I crave it so much. I’m desperate for it actually. Sweet sweet silence.

Grant was away at a workshop two weekends ago, he’s home for this weekend and then he’s off to another workshop next weekend. I’m feeling burnt out, and am sometimes fearful of being alone with the kids because they are SO MUCH WORK. Max especially is really non-stop, exploring, seeking, discovering, feeling, tasting, smashing, throwing any and every object including wet handfuls of food, drumming, growling like a grizzly bear and shaking his head like he caught a salmon, screaming at the most earth shattering decibels, hurling himself off beds and couches and stairs at any chance he can get, standing and howling in his high chair like a dog, chin pointing straight up to the sky, ’kicking’ balls with his hands as he crawls like lightening after them, trying to catch balls with his mouth like a dog does, basically exploring his body and his body in his environment. Boys sure do have a lot of yang energy.

I’m on his level for a lot of the day, playing with him on my hands and knees, following him around, because now he tries to climb furniture and often succeeds. I have to carry him a lot too, after shaking him off like dog, when I’m doing dishes or cooking and he pulls and pinches my legs and sometimes bites me to try to get me to pick him up so he can see what I’m doing. And then of course he wants to participate in everything I’m doing, and he lunges at whatever he wants to get his hands on. My back, needless to say is killing me and my left carrying arm is now a very strong vise.

So, this evening, I finally got three hours alone, which is A LOT, and i could feel myself decompressing like a big stress balloon. Now I feel like I’ve been hit by a sledge hammer, like I finally got my body to stay still for a period longer than half an hour during the day, and then all of a sudden, it’s only 6:30 pm, and it feels like it’s the middle of the night, like I really should be going to bed now. I don’t think people work as hard as when they are conscious parents with small children. I think it’s almost kinda crazy that I even signed up for this, and I obviously had NO CLUE what I was getting my self into. I now try my best to tell the truth to anyone who wants to have kids or who are preparing to have them, even at the risk of being judged as an ungrateful woman who doesn’t deserve her children: LIFE AS YOU KNOW IT IS NOW COMING TO A FAST END> GO GET DRUNK, PAINT THE TOWN RED< JOIN A GROUP< DO SOMETHING YOU’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO, QUICK!!! I feel that there’s still this unspoken rule which I’m not willing to follow, which is ‘Don’t talk’, especially if it sounds anything like complaining or whining. I think that some people think that talking about the challenges is somehow being negative. Well it’s not. I’ll tell you what’s negative. When parents push and push and push down their real feelings, and then there’s this big huge pressure ball of resentment, and they eventually go NUMB because there’s too much anger and depression down there that it’s turned into this big scary monster that they are too afraid to look at. Occasionally I see the parents who have older kids who are gearing up, getting ready to do all the stuff they’ve been putting off and putting off but more often than not these parents look like deer caught in headlights, paralyzed and numb with absolutely no idea what to do with themselves. It’s like they forgot who they were. Or maybe they never knew.

The Truth of Motherhood at 5:15 pm

Natalie — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 02:46:20 +0000

If any of you are stay at home mothers, and have just spent all day long (10 plus hours) alone with your young children, engaging, playing, soothing, teaching, cleaning and picking up after them and picking them up, I get that you want to scream and I get that you want to cry and I get that you can’t even look at your children right now. I get that you may want to run screaming from the house right now, and I get it if you do. All I can say is: don’t feel bad for having these feelings. This is an opportunity for deep compassion for yourself. Everyday you live this reality, is a day you just climbed Everest AGAIN. This is what being a committed conscious full time Mom is. It’s grueling, thankless work, and it’s full of all the piss and shit in between. I know from my experience RIGHT NOW that it’s difficult to make any coherent communication and that I just feel stripped, shattered and raw.

Yet the paradox of this journey of motherhood is that it’s also amazing, and every day there are moments of pure joy unlike any I’ve ever experienced and unlike anything I will ever experience again. It’s a total mind fuck, because I’m living my dream raising a beautiful healthy family, but I’ve never felt so completely used up and trapped like a caged wild animal at the end of the day.

And all day long, I see how my children teach me. Teach me about myself- about what really pushes my buttons. (Constant high pitched screeching does it to me. Oh, and biting, just to name a couple) Teach me where my limits are. (How many times do I have to say something before I start shouting it?) Teach me how I behave when my limits are reached and when my limits are passed. (My heart races, growing anxiety and panic- the tip of the iceberg) Teach me about my own unique coping mechanisms, (rocking in fetal position, screaming in pillows and good ol’ sugar and caffeine, just to name a few) Teach me about the spectrum of human emotion. Teach me how to eat my words. I watch myself and I’m at times horrified and at other times awed at the range of feelings I get to experience in a day.

All I have to say to those of you who are not with children is : be absolutely SURE in the depths of your depths, without a shadow of a doubt that you want children, and if you want to give it a whirl to experience a fraction of the reality, please become a full time live in nanny. DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN BECAUSE YOUR MOTHER WANTS GRANDCHILDREN-she can adopt! DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT ALL YOUR FRIENDS ARE DOING- go get a good therapist. And if you decide that this experience is not for you, but you still want to experience having children in your life, go give your girlfriend or sister or cousin a break, who probably hasn’t yet had a shower, who may very well need to sit on the toilet because she’s been holding it for far too long, but mostly, because, if you can’t hang out with this woman who you used to be able to have a conversation with, you may as well get to know her children who are adorable versions of her and get a little shot of kid wisdom while you’re at it.

Compound this raw human reality I just described with the very real possibility that Mom isn’t getting more than two hours of sleep at a time and you can understand why those Mom’s at the supermarket with her screaming baby can’t muster the energy to pick up her baby and why she has that desperate crazed rabid look in her eyes. These are a whole nuther couple of topics…

And honey, if you’ve got some stupid ass ‘Leave it to Beaver’ idea that you gotta have a hot meal ready for your man by 6 o’clock, while you try to do dishes with a baby that won’t let you put him down without screaming bloody murder, then I ask you this: How many children do you have? and include him in the count. Remember, he gets to shower and he gets to leave and go work with people who can cooperate and communicate and who don’t throw food at him and play with their poo in front of him.

I’m hoping for your sakes, he’s rushing home and cooking you dinner while he gazes lovingly at you and tells you you are simply AMAZING and BEAUTIFUL.

Because you are.

Truth is Beauty

Natalie — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 03:13:55 +0000

The truth is, sometimes I feel small. The truth is, sometimes I don’t think I have anything of use to share with the world. The truth, is I’m afraid that people will blame me. The truth is, I’m afraid. Yes, this is uncharted territory for me. Writing from a personal place, not a story i made up, but the story of me. The truth is, I’m doing it despite my fears. The truth is, I know better than to believe everything I think. I hope I can help you in some way, even if it’s just to know that you aren’t alone on this journey called being a human being. Amongst a slew a roles I take on, I am someone who is willing to be accountable for everything that happens to me, even the things that seem completely random or like they have no real connection to me. The truth is, everything is connected. I’m willing to see the lessons that constantly surround me, and now, I’m willing to share. The truth is, sometimes I feel like I am going to burst unless I do. The truth is, this is My truth, which may change or deepen as I grow, and I will always be growing. Grow or die. I refuse to be the walking dead. The truth is, it’s not the truth that hurts. It’s the realization that we’ve been slowly killing ourselves with lies- that’s what hurts. And here’s why truth is beauty. When we feel the truth and when we tell the truth, we are free, REALLY free. And freedom, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

Beauty is truth; truth beauty—-that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

-some really dead guy named John Keats

(the phrase that’s been pounding in my skull since I read it as a young twenty something undergrad in Romantic poetry class, oh so many moons ago)

oh, and a shout out to ma sistah:

The truth shall set you free!

-Anne of Green Gables

Please leave your thoughts and comments, I’d love to hear from you.