Icebergs

   What makes someone check out of life? What makes someone give up? How could the same childhood trauma hit all four of us children full bore, yet seemingly only three of us can cope? That's presuming said trauma is the root.  No one really knows but her. My siblings and I only became aware of the drinking maybe twenty years ago.  Even then a little too much wine at a wedding, or some such event can easily slip past one. Since she lives out of state that leaves the time line wide open. And like the Titanic's iceberg, what is visible to the naked eye, is really only a fraction of what lies beneath.

    My alcoholic sister was hospitalized last night for an emergency surgery. Is her alcoholic body giving out? Are the other existing health conditions prevailing? No one knows this either, as she withdrew from the world, and any kind of human contact years ago.

   In contrast this morning my own house is bustling with activity it normally does not see. My adult daughter visiting from southern California running a marathon in San Jose is still sleeping while my husband and I match schedules for a handyman to come. He has gaslighted us this morning, but wants to come in the afternoon instead to fix outdoor lights. We try to settle on a time and a notification beeps through. It is my son texting from his girlfriend's house, and we remind him (not so gently) that his summer school college session begins this week.

   I'm sure this post seems cold and indifferent. This is not our first rodeo. We never know where this may be heading, and that is the only thing that is consistent.

Mini Mensas

 

    Sure my eight year olds can't wait their turn, and sometimes they need some time to calm down after losing at a kickball BUT when it comes to cutting through the nonsense, and coming straight to the point you can count on a third grader to do you a solid.

    So when my class was discussing recycling, climate change, and the dangers of plastic one of my students, Mera piped up, "How could a company be allowed to make a plastic that can't be recycled?"

   Out of the mouths of babes.

   I told them, "Great question!"

   And then we brainstormed, and problem solved what (if anything) we could do. We decided to write Nestle. (Nestle makes Yoplait) The kids decided to take on plastic that they used, and 'lots of it. They felt that this angle was more relevant, and made more sense.

   They never did hear back from Nestle that year.  They were a few that were frustrated, but by then they were engrossed in recycling their Crayola markers.

   Don't ever under estimate a third grader.

The power of REST

    I am  in the fifth week of being housebound with a foot surgery and of course I've had some time to think about some things. Okay, I will be honest, I have had A LOT time. And one thing I've had the absolute joy to discover is the power of rest.  I am amazed to uncover the power of slowing down, the power of stopping.  You know what? There really is some wisdom, and beauty to just pushing, "pause." When we rest, we make ourselves available to insights, thoughts, and even blessings that we would not be able to recognize, or see if we weren't still.

    Every morning I start the morning outside, reading a few paragraphs from a self care book. After I finish reading, I leave some time to just be quiet and still. Sometimes, I can actually distinguish different birds within their calls. And of course sometimes my neighbor's blower will interject. This practice has slowly beginning to color, and filter my whole day.

     Definitely skip the foot surgery, but I 100% recommend trying to carve out some time to stop, and get off the bus.

    Don't push, strive or struggle- instead be still.

     And talk about insights, turns out I had an excellent role model in front of me all along.

Childhood Trauma

 

     I am reading a biography where the author spent their formative years in a cult and it has made me really examine my own childhood trauma.

    What am I saying? Why am I writing?

    I don't know, but this has really struck a chord with me. Childhood is such a vulnerable time, and a time when one is arguably the most fragile. The damage cannot be fixed and the scope of the trauma cannot  even be measured. It's frightening. It gives me the chills just typing this.

     Darlene McLaughlin MD (@ Texas A &M) says, "The brain blocks the memory to help you get through the event." So, essentially the brain is protecting itself.  Again, according to McLaughlin it "walls off." Amazing. The brain is one complex organ.

   Now, we can get into a whole host of other factors. Suppressing that  traumatic memory can cause a whole array of both physical and psychological problems. In addition, so can a child's genetic make up, as well as their physical environment (happy home, etc.) All these factors come into play as to how that child may process that trauma while growing up.

   I'm still processing mine to this day. I 'm also shaking my head while I type this.

   We just gotta do more, folks.