This being human is a guest house, each day a new arrival. This morning is my son's birthday, and I woke up to a 4 year old's temper tantrum and feelings of lost, helplessness, despair and confusion arrived in my inner world.
How I would dream of the hope of a good start to each morning, kicking off a virtuous cycle of an upbeat and loving family.
Usually when this occurs, my desire is to hope that we can start anew, reset and carry on the day with joy and contentment and love.
This time was different. My desire was a hope to restart everything, to wipe clean my past and to escape to somewhere in my fantasy world, where I have a perfect son or none at all. For as long as I can feel better.
That was my hope.
On reflecting on this picture, I realised how I'm avoiding the situation instead of coming up with solutions.
I wonder if I could invite other feelings of consolation into my guest house? Other feelings of appreciation for the innocent child's ability to express himself without restrain.
The child who plays out who he is instead of conforming to the expectations of his parents?
I never understood what friends mean when they tell me it's okay not to be okay. Not being okay by definition is not okay!
Perhaps this time, my son has given me a gift on his birthday, that not being alright is just as good.
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