Gwynn Raimondi, MA

Dissonance

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There is a dissonance that comes as we move from a highly distracted and non-present life into a life of connection and presence in the now. A shifting as we release old habits and create new ones. There is an ebb and flow to the process as we uncover the fears that are buried in our reasons for the distractions: the fears of true deep connection, the fears of being loved, the fears of being rejected, the fears of being seen as we are.

Stepping into the present moment is stepping into our vulnerability. It is a release of defenses that built the armor to distract us in the first place. By letting go of the long to-do lists and “have-tos” and “shoulds”; by letting go of expectations and worries; by letting go of distractions and numbing, we are allowing ourselves, our true selves, to be present and to shine through now.

This is some scary shit.

The dissonance comes into play as the space between—the space where we have started to release the old disconnecting habits and haven’t yet fully integrated the new connecting ones—comes into being. Our anxiety can actually increase in this in-between place: we know where we were and that it is not where we want to be, yet we aren’t quite fully living as we wish to live; neither space (distraction or connection) feels like home in this in-between place. This in-between place is a very uncomfortable place to be.

I’ve been feeling this dissonance lately as I shed even more distracting habits and focus in on deepening my connections with my world. I have been focused on releasing lately: releasing anger, frustration, fear, old stories, distractions. This release is creating some amazing amounts of space both inside me and in my daily life. As I’m releasing and this space is opening the dissonance comes: I feel off, odd, strange. I’m not used to having this space opened within me or in my days and I’m not quite sure what to do with it nor have I grown accustomed to having it. I am practicing breathing, meditation and of course, body-centered mindfulness to help me settle into this new open space, to find my comfort within it.

I honestly am a bit nervous about this process. I understand that releasing happens in layers and I am apprehensively curious how much more dissonance and discomfort I will feel as the layers continue to shed. I look at some of my old habits of isolation and distraction and on the rare moments I try to turn to them now, they don’t feel right, they only add to my “off” feeling. Yet as I practice settling deeper into connection (to myself, to my loved ones, to my world) some of those newly forming habits don’t feel quite like home yet either: while they feel new and strange they also feel like they could be home, once I allow myself the space to settle in.

So I continue this journey. I sit in this uncomfortable place as I give my body, mind and soul time to settle in, to find that “sweet spot” of being. I allow the discomfort to be and while practicing soothing exercises like deep breathing, repeating mantras, meditation, yoga, mindfulness, and play, I am being very mindful of not numbing and to allow myself to be where I am.

Being in this place of dissonance isn’t an easy place to be. It’s understandable to want to hurry up the process and get to the other side already. Yet this in-between place is important. Giving it space to be, giving yourself space to be, is vital to continuing on the path of savoring the present moment and finding those deep connections we all crave and need to thrive in this life.

Here’s to the dissonance. Here’s to this beautiful reminder that we are actively stepping out of our numbing habits and moving towards becoming even more fully present and finding those deep connections. I offer a prayer of gratitude to this dissonance, to its presence as I embrace it and where I am in this moment, knowing that this too shall pass, in its own time.

Accepting love

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The first couple of weeks after I came home from my week at school were a bit rough on my girl and me. We kept trying to reconnect and not quite making it. There were a lot of tears, from both of us, feelings of rejection and being misunderstood.

I felt frustrated because she would say she wanted to do this or that with me, state that we just weren’t getting enough time together, and then when I would try to play whatever game she requested, or the do the thing she wanted, she would get angry if I asked too many questions or didn’t do something or the other exactly as she wanted.

Or so, that’s how it looked on the outside.

My feelings were hurt yes, and yes I was frustrated because I too wanted desperately to reconnect with my daughter. I wanted to play and be silly and have fun. I put off doing housework and business work so that we could have time together.

I knew how her heart was hurting. I knew that her lashing out both had everything and nothing to do with me. I knew that her survival mechanisms were trying to protect her from further separation, further hurt. I knew that in oh-so-many ways she wasn’t really in control of her reactions–they were primal, coming up from her reptilian brain.

I persevered. It was hard at times. There were moments when I started to slip back into my reptilian brain also, times when my feelings were hurt so deeply, times when my frustration would start to get the best of me and I would start to spiral into anger.

In those hard moments I would find my breath, find myself. I would remind myself all I know of attachment. I would remind myself all I know of development. I would remind myself how her “rejection” was stirring up my own childhood wounds of rejection and abandonment and while my response was triggered by her it really had little to do with her. I would remind myself I was the parent, the adult.

Most of the time this worked. Not every time. There was repair work I did over the last couple weeks too, apologizing after cruel words slipped out of my mouth, giving lots of hugs and snuggles, listening to heartbeats, tickling and playing and finding ways to get us both back into the present moment.

Today my girl and I played a game she made up. It was something like hockey, but somewhat different. We played in the garage with a ball and some tree branches, she led the play and I followed, adding in questions and comments and saying “I’m open” or “I need to pass” on queue. It was fun and I felt like we deeply connected while playing. My girl’s eyes were so lit up and I could see how excited she was that here we were playing a game of her own creation.

This parenting thing changes us, fundamentally. I’ve shifted and adapted and grown to love play, something I once avoided at all costs. I had read Lawrence Cohen’s Playful Parenting (which I highly recommend to all parents) and I intellectually understood the value and power of play, and yet my body had so much resistance. I have used a timer to help me move past my anxiety, to put limits that my brain and body could handle, to ease play into my experience, into my body, into my heart.

As time has moved forward I’ve found myself enjoying play more and more. I’ve left the timer behind. I’ve opened myself to the deep connection my daughter and I have. More importantly I have come to accept her beautiful unconditional love.

Accepting unconditional love from another person is terrifying, overwhelming and powerful. When we are able to accept the love of another we are opening ourselves to healing our past hurts as well as opening ourselves to the possibility of future hurts. It is the fear of the the potential future hurts that blocks so many of us from accepting love and kindness from others. Fear stops us from deeply feeling the love each and every one of us is meant to feel from another or to experience the profound joy that comes with the experience of that love.

These last two weeks I have shed tears and held my girl while she shed hers. I have examined my own reactions, repaired when appropriate, owned my own shit, and understood and empathized with where my girl is in each moment. And while we didn’t play Barbies yesterday due to her own frustrations and primal defense mechanisms, we did play a rousing game of something like hockey, but not quite, today, where we both laughed and played, where we felt connected and understood. I accepted my girl’s love and she accepted mine.

This is where my growth and transformation is. In the accepting. In the acknowledging. In releasing my deeply internalized myths of not being worthy or good enough. In moving through the fear. In loving another and deeply breathing her love for me, finding joy and peace in her love.

We find our transformation in our relationships. We find love, peace and joy through our connections. We heal and repair our broken hearts by moving into vulnerability and allowing others in. We love and accept love as though our very lives depended upon it. Because quite frankly, they do.

A vision page created from the prompt "I accept." I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.
A vision page created from the prompt “I accept.” I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.

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This life now

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I’ve spent the last few days consumed by tears. Tears of frustration. Tears of disappointment.

Tears of grief.

Grieving a plan that refuses to come into fruition.

Grieving a dream of what my life would be like.

The Warrior in me rages against this grief. Fight! she screams. We have a battle plan, she insists.

I’m tired from the seemingly endless battles in this war against What Is. In these battles I have raged and fought against Truth and Reality for so many years now. I don’t have much fight left in me. I want peace. I want to Be.

To Be, I will need to walk away from this War, stop engaging in the battles. It’s time to release these thoughtfully constructed plans, these dreams, these expectations of what my life “should” look like and time to surrender wholly to what is. It is time to release what isn’t and allow what Is to be my Dream.

This release, this surrender will not come easily. I have held onto these plans, this dream, this vision of my life, for most of my adult years. This fight has consumed me and has prevented me from enjoying and being whole in what Is.

Many prayers will still be sent. I feel them in my heart, in my Soul, in my womb. I know the bargaining with the Universe is not quite over. This release, this surrender will be slow and at times over-whelming. I feel the Fight still strong within me. And yet, it is time. My longing for peace is becoming stronger than my longing for completed plans, accomplished dreams, plans and dreams that are clearly not meant to be.

Time to release the anger. Time to release the frustration. Time to release the blame.

Time to release the plans, the dream.

Time to Surrender to what Is.

Time to know in my bones, that this beautiful life of mine, that I have right now, is enough. In this beautiful life of mine, right now, I can be whole and happy.

I love this beautiful life of mine. As it is. Right now.