On Being and Becoming

My parents were fun-loving people who said and believed I could do anything I set my mind to.

Typical for parents in the 60s, though, their authoritarian parenting style coupled with my own serious personality unintentionally sabotaged that belief. More caught than taught, I got the idea early on that what i set my mind to was probably the wrong thing and this undermined my ability to dream. For years I remembered and rehearsed all the scary things that went wrong in my childhood -- a broken wrist, a broken leg, scary images of my father in physical pain, unexpected losses. 

The street I grew up on could have been located in Ward and June Cleaver's neighborhood, but ours had a slightly darker twist. We did play baseball in the cul-de-sac, football in the neighbor's backyard, and

jacks on the front porch. 

And while I understand now that into each life a little rain much fall, back then all the difficult things I felt and saw, even on my idyllic street, seemed indications that something was desperately wrong with my world, and by extension, with me.

Although I did well in school, with awards, recognition, and ribbons, I also have memories of

painful experiences. Mrs. Brown, one of the teachers, had died; another time the beloved library had been vandalized; and of course the usual thoughtless childish behaviors and cruelties.

I consider myself to have had wonderful parents and a sweet childhood, but during that sweet 
childhood, life felt very frightening and overwhelming to me.

Life offered new possibilities when, through no real intention on my part, I ended up at a college

that "had me at hello," as Renee Zellweger's character said in the movie, Jerry McGuire. I finished my college years with brain and heart full of beauty and inspiration from the people and experiences I met there.

I married my husband, Greg, on Groundhog Day, just two months after completely my undergraduate coursework. Thus began phase two of my life. Preferring to delay starting a family, we had time to get

to know each other and craft our philosophy about marriage, family, education and life. Among the many places we lived during those years, we spent 16 months in the beautiful country of Australia, working and enjoying the friendly, laidback people and places.

Returning to the US, we embarked on the next leg of our journey -- parenthood. Our first three children, a daughter and two sons, were born in less than three years.

Parenting by immersion at this speed demanded we learn fast! Our fourth child, another girl, arrived three years later, and then our youngest was born in 2006, years after we had imagined our family was pretty well complete.

The early years of motherhood were marvelous, filled with the wonder of seeing the world through a child's eyes and understanding

and filled with the joy of watching these incredible little people learn things, which they did as easily as a sponge fills with water in a full bucket. Since our youngest was born with Down syndrome, the adjustment to a late in life baby was compounded by the shock of now being parents of a special needs child, something I never in a million years expected.

By the time our baby was toddling around, the oldest three had become teenagers. and suddenly I got in touch again with those feelings from childhood when the world felt scary and overwhelming.

Here I was in that same place again, only this time the fear and overwhelm were owing to these teenage children whose brains had become only marginally functional, judging by things they were saying and doing. Who were these strange people? Where did those sweet babies go?

Motherhood has seasons, and this was the rainy season of my discontent.

Thanks to that difficult time, though, I started on a journey to make sense of my life. The religious upbringing of my childhood had simply formed and then cemented my fears and overwhelm about the world by teaching me that at my core I was defective, anything I wanted was wrong, anything I did well was to be denigrated, and anything I thought should be treated as suspect.

When I attended Unleash the Power Within in February of 2011, I heard a new message that resonated with me -- that at the core I just am, what I want is worth considering, and what I think is worth listening to. 

After nearly drowning in the turbulence of my previous mindset, I opened up to the idea that possibilities for peace and joy might still be available to me in my lifetime. Thus began phase three.

Through several key relationships and experiences, those childhood fears and overwhelm have been released. They still drop in now and again, but they have little power to grip me and hold me tight.

Still in the thick of motherhood, I have added a new aspect to my career path. As a life coach, I am facilitating clients getting in touch with their own resourcefulness and resilience.

As author Marianne Williamson said,

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear in that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the World.
There is nothing enlightening about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel unsure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
As we let our own Light shine,
we consciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically liberates others."

I think we actually experience both of those fears, and it is in facing both that we become more resourceful and resilient. As I move away from an either/or paradigm toward a both/and understanding of life, I now know I am able to do anything I set my mind to.

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