When Family Serves You a Dish of Side-Eye
Pixabay license
As astrologer Michael Lennox said in his daily astro alert today (he offers them for free during eclipse seasons), “we are all moving through a pretty deep healing of the heart, opening us up to allow for more love to flow through us, and as us. […] absolutely nothing will be the same for any of us on the inside of our hearts, and in terms of how we give and receive love.”
I had one such ah-ha moment yesterday I wanted to share in case it’s helpful for you. I have family that is not very accepting of… well, I’m tempted to say “me.”
The Why. I don’t want to say their love is conditional; but I think that if they show me unconditional love and acceptance, then they are afraid that they will be perceived by me as condoning of my behavior and (new-ish) belief systems — which they understand to be completely incompatible with their own belief systems. By cutting their hugs a little short and letting distance and disapproval creep into their stance, the corners of their eyes, and in the space between us, they may feel as though they’re actually helping me save my soul — that their lack of exuberant, unconditional love may be the red flag (or warning sign) that I need in order to stop my reckless, headlong fall into sin/damnation/eternal torment. (Having grown up in a strict, religious background, I can tell you that the fear and pain there that one feels for “unsaved” loved ones is REAL.)
Why do I feel so confident that this is indeed what they’re feeling? Well, because often a thing like this — this unspoken energetic current — is generational. It’s an inheritance, for good and bad. How many times have I felt a family member’s disapproval so sharply it takes my breath away? Too many times, I’ll tell you. I have found myself holding my breath, unconsciously (at the time) willing myself away from the moment, the pain, and from myself. And when my own child does something “bad,” how often have I felt that default mechanism click into place of becoming cold in response?
Yesterday’s encounter with the silent disapproval and curtailed affection went better than a previous version of me would have experienced it. Why? Because this time I had some tools.
1. Mind. As I left the experience, I found myself getting into the “story” of it all. How could this giant of a figure whom I had worshipped when I was a kid be like this to me? Yada yada yada. Thankfully, I recalled a passage from the book I’m reading by Marshall B. Rosenberg, PhD called Nonviolent Communication. It’s from chapter 3, “Observing without Evaluating.” The author quotes Wendell Johnson and makes a point that everything is constantly shifting, growing, evolving and that our language which loves constants, answers, and normals is often inadequate to reflect the truth of our multi-faceted experience that there is nothing that stays the same. I took the opportunity yesterday to consciously refrain from putting this loved one in a box — a box of “they are closed-minded, judgmental, and hypocritical.” Instead, the language I gave to this story was one of “permission.” I allowed this person the liberty to change, to evolve, to make different decisions than the ones they had made a second ago. For hadn’t I granted that same permission to myself? I would refuse to place a moralistic label on this person who is an ever-evolving consciousness.
2. Heart. I will admit that sometimes I still crash and burn; however, yesterday in this situation I had the energy and motivation to actually use the spiritual and mental health tools I had in my toolbox, and it felt grrrrreat (yes, that’s a Tony the Tiger reference there). I could feel my heart remaining open, sharing my love and my me-ness. I was only able to do that, though, because I was providing myself with acceptance, love, respect — all the things that previously (and sometimes still) I would look for outside of myself, from others. Since I wasn’t looking for this person to provide me these things, my feelings and wholeness weren’t dependent on how much or little validation and support they were giving me.
3. Body. Afterwards, I checked in with my body. I sat with any discomfort or tension I may have been holding. I assured myself that I was safe. As weird as it sounds, I made sure I was breathing, in that I wasn’t holding my breath with tension, but breathing deeply, calmly, evenly. I asked myself if I needed to grunt, cry, or shake to remove any lingering anxieties.
I encourage you, as I try to remember myself, to bring “online” your mind, heart, and body. Catch them up to speed and on the same page (in spiritual-speak we call it “into alignment”) with what you really want — which is to feel safe, loved, and loving right? Bring them onto your team, and I assure you together there’s nothing you can’t accomplish in love.