Untangled, uninstalled, sent to recycle bin...

When I was a child my parents said I ruined everything and so I did. They said I didn't do anything right and I was worthless and so I was. I'd ask Mom if she wanted help cleaning and she'd say no because when I helped she'd just have to go and do it all over again anyway.

I stopped trying.

When I was a teenager I was obnoxious and I "talked back." My parents said I must be on drugs- I wasn't but then I thought, "Well, what the hell? Might as well."

When I wanted to spread my wings and try something new they'd tell me that it was a bad idea and would fail. And so it did. Why? Because I trusted them.

When I got my license I wanted to drive a friend to school and my parents told me I was going to get into an accident because I was a terrible driver. And I did.

I told my mom it would not have happened if she hadn't said it. Really it was because I still believed them and in what they told me. I wanted to please them and fulfill their prophecies.

God, I was such a shaky, insecure, frightened little girl. Clumsy and awkward and shy. Tortured and lonely. I covered it with anger and anst, rebellion and self destruction.

I got out of there as fast as I could. No wonder I rebelled. I had to dis-prove them.

Look mom and dad the world is round, not flat.

I'm not angry anymore. I love them dearly. It was only their fear that made them say and do those things. Their own pain and fear. They loved me as best as they could and they are only human. They are on their own paths to enlightenment now. Aside from the damages, they did bestow some gifts as well. And even the damages were a gift, they made me who I am and drove me to work with children with "problems".

And when I worked with the kids I believed in them. I looked into them and saw that no matter how sick they were told they were and no matter how unwanted they felt, they could do anything. They really could. I hope they did.

I get mad when my husband says to our daughter, "You're gonna break that." Don't prophesize. Let her write her own future. Let her write her own character. Let her just be.

Parenting is hard. How many times already have I put my foot in my mouth and cringed with regret. My oldest is only four.

All this came to me when my father came by today to use the computer. His was not working for what he needed it for. He was using my laptop and he is accustomed to a desktop. The mouse was difficult for him to manuever so he declared that, "Laptops are terrible, desktops are better." And so he said it and decided it was so. He closed his mind to something, another door thrown shut never to be opened again. Such a very little and silly thing to get so angry about, to slam a door over.

He said with his desktop he could have filled in the form in 5 minutes instead of the half hour it took him.

I am gentle with my dad since I've become a grown up. I feel bad for him and I understand his issues since I used to have them too.

"It's okay Dad. Laptops are not terrible. They work just fine. It's just a matter of getting used to the mouse."

He knows I am right.

My dad needs to be out in the woods where he is happy not fiddling on a computer trying to get his last few weeks of unemployment wondering why he worked so damn hard all those years just to be tossed aside when he got older.

He spent a short time with his grandkids and then rushed out. He's always rushing away- rushing to get some other meaningless thing done. Do, do, do. Action, action, action. Gotta keep doing or something bad will happen. How dare you sleep in, how dare you sit around. Run laps, mow the lawn, clean the house, move, move, move!!!!!!!!!!

Poor Dad. His poor children- we inherited this, too. It is so ingrained, carved into our minds like initials into wet cement. And now its hardened.

My mom is more like a client of mine now. Her eyes are opening. She comes to me with questions. Sometimes it works the other way, too and she tells me something I need to hear. And now when I try something new, she does believe it can be done. Now she's like my biggest fan. Maybe she always was. I don't think she meant the things she used to say. She remembers and regrets them and tells me how sorry she is. I don't blame her at all. I know it's hard. She still wrestles with her negativity and double thinking. "She's not pretty enough, not good enough, too lazy, God is going to punish her." And that is with us now too living in our minds. It's like riding through life with Eeyore in the backseat.

Every year or two I start back with untangling the knots from childhood. Each time I think I got them all and then I find they are still there. How deep do they go?

This journey is wonderous. In just a few short weeks I have learned so much. How to surrender, how to let go, how to have faith, how to get control over my thoughts. So much coming at me at an unfathomable rate. Somehow between diaper changes, breastfeeding, and playdates I seem to be able to download and install all the new applications. For this I am grateful.

I am going to send these worthless old patterns to the recycle bin and then delete them again. I am sure I want to delete. I know they cannot be recovered again later. Thank you.