HBD

I know, I know. Another millennial starting a blog, but it's not what you think. (Well, maybe it is. I have no idea who you are or what you believe.)

Today is my mom's 63rd birthday. Today is also the birth date of this blog and the day my mom told me to start writing.

Those of you reading this who know me personally may be scratching your heads in wonder because you know my mom isn't alive and there's no way she could possibly "tell me" to do anything.

But this morning after I finished my journaling, this pushy, distracting voice wouldn't quit. My ego would chalk this energy up to a good nights sleep and experiencing a morning when I actually had my shit together. My higher self knows better.

This voice was connecting the dots for me. I've been asking for guidance and ignoring all the signs. Last night my grief therapist shared one of her rituals with me. We lit a candle in honor of mom's birthday. She had me ask for guidance/enlightenment/whatever it was I needed quietly (internally) to myself and pull an angel card when I was ready. I pulled "The Unknown":

Without getting into personal specifics, the card perfectly addressed what I was seeking. Before we continued with the session, my therapist said, "snap a picture of the card- you're going to want it." So being the abiding rule-follower I am, I took the photo and we moved on with my session.

Then later last night I saw a post from Dr. Nicole LePera AKA The Holistic Psychologist (AKA goddess of self healing and my virtual mentor).

"The greatest gift a daughter can give her mother is to alchemize their inherited pain into healing."

In her caption she goes on to say:

"This is our work. This is is why we are here. To choose our healing and liberate those who didn’t have awareness of that opportunity."

I'm pretty sure I could be the poster child for those statements. When I say there are "gifts" in my mom's death I'm sure a lot of people see that as a coping mechanism. A brilliant rainbow full of hope with a pile of cow shit at the bottom. But I really do mean it.

The truth is, having a dead person changes everything (shocker, right?). It changes all your personal relationships, it changes your view of the world, it changes how you live your day to day life, how you think, how you act, how you love, how you move and breathe and just EVERYTHING. Just like any aspect of life, though, I get to choose how I deal with all that change.

I'm privileged enough to afford therapy which has taught me so much AND I'm still a hot mess trying to figure it all out. AND that's alright. It's a journey, people.

These gifts I speak of don't show up wrapped in cute paper and topped with bows. They come in the form of uncomfortable conversations and inner child work breaking down core beliefs.

I love my mom dearly. We also had a lot of struggle in our relationship. She had a lot of issues with her family, too, and that pattern has been passed down through generations. There's no point in placing blame and judging, but since I've identified the cycle it's my responsibility "alchemize the inherited pain into healing".

I have the opportunity to break the cycle. I can learn to function in a healthy relationship. I can have children and raise them without passing along these wounds.

The "aha" of this morning was that I had to do this. Something deep in my core being was ignited. I had to create a space where I could materialize and speak my truth. To be honest, it's really freaking terrifying doing this. Laying out my intimate work to the world and teeing myself up for judgement and criticism.

I have no idea where this will go or what it will bring. Letting go of the fear is part of my work in debunking my core beliefs. "Unfamiliar territory leads to new horizons." (I get why I needed to take the picture.)

So Happy Birthday Snazzle. And Happy Birthday "Call your mother" blog. Let's see where this baby takes us.

#happybirthday #callyourmother #grief #love #growth