I am enough

I have a routine to start my day...
I get up and let the dogs out
I do yoga
I meditate
I sit down here to write to you.

This morning, despite my screaming responsibilities, I was able to get to a deep silence and peace...
it was a surprise and it felt good.
But as soon as I noticed it, acknowledged it...I lost it...but there is a lingering calm.
I will mindfully notice joy today.
I keep telling my kids, "next week we will...."
but there really is no reason that I can't enjoy this day as well.
Thanks for the wake-up call.

It does take one person...or a series of people who come in and out of our lives...to affirm our worth...who say,"me too"...who just see us, really see us and accept us lovingly.
I didn't mean to imply that pain experiences should be a contest to see who has suffered the most. It was just my inner voice reminding me that I/we are not alone, even if I isolate myself.
Again I am thinking of communion/community.
It is so damned scarey to reach out to someone...
to expose yourself to their scrutiny, judgement and possible rejection...
but even more devastating for me is if they don't see me at all.
It is what I have known in my earliest years.
It is what I expect even now...when I have proven that to be wrong many times over.
I still don't trust that I am enough.

I sat with a mentor yesterday, she is in her late 70's or 80's, she directs the MSW program that I am in. We talked about what sparks our interest and how to translate those ideas into research.
I realized that we both comfortably shared areas of strength and weaknesses.
It was easy to say to her, I don't know about that, please tell me...and she did likewise.
I am enough.
The first Brene Brown talk I saw had a picture of a woman with "I am enough" written across her chest...that image has stayed with me for over a year...it is powerful.
Anyway, back to the mentor discussion...
she shared data on social workers with >70% having personal trauma histories...I acknowledged that...yes, I understand.
Then she shared that >25% have a mental health diagnosis...I froze...I couldn't acknowledge that...I couldn't show that card...not if I wanted to still be respected...
This morning I am saddened by my response...
I have nothing to hide...depression is not a weakness...it just is...
and the mania that I have experienced has been a gift of great creativity and joy...
I feel more when I am not depressed...even more emotions when I have had the creative mania...
it is a gift and I need to accept it and acknowledge it.

I actually said to my friend who was seeing Miss Saigon with me...I wonder if any of the BuiDoi are my siblings...interesting that you should have the same thought.
But there is so much of our father's life that we will never know.
When I think about how impenetrable I have made my walls...
I have difficulty imaging the fortress he has built around himself.
I know the outward signs...the mood swings...the volatile anger...and then his ability to be charming, when it suited him. I believe that he is bipolar/major depression and PTSD...
What would life had been like if he just sought help?
For that matter, what would our family look like if we all sought help?
Instead we suppress, ignore, carry on like good soldiers...all the while dying and crying inside.

Sorry, enough dark thoughts...I am seeking joy today.
I love you,
Maggie

P.S. I imagine the spiral staircase goes up and down...
I believe that we are meant to seek both inner enlightenment and belong to the world, simultaneously.