Myotai said there’s a shift here: from needing to fix what’s appeared, to coming to terms with it. The shift is from fixing to being.
When I realized it wasn’t about fixing it, then I let my old, blind mother try to push all my buttons and I found, for the first time, that she had no more power over me.
I felt sadness, almost missing my angry reactions that had arisen all my life in response to her mean probing.
The last three years of her life we had a quiet relationship. Not much speech. Just connecting in shared parallel space.
* * *
When I couldn’t fix my mother’s blindness, my father’s Alzheimer’s or my marriage, I made sure each of those three people was in a physically safe place. And I ran away to Turkey, (where I knew neither the language nor the people).
The fear was overwhelming, so I began a new life for three years. What was I afraid of?
Both the blindness and the Alzheimer’s are hereditary (as was the cancer that struck me in 2005). The marriage had allowed me to be a painter and illustrator in a society that gradually ceased to value those things. And I clung to my youthfulness (I was 43) and my art for fear of losing them. Eventually I lost both — but so far — Alzheimer’s and blindness have not found me.
Now I have to work hard, alone, to keep a roof over my head. And finding time for art, as my physical strength wanes, is very hard. I get sooo tired! I feel I have to choose between money (=physical survival) and art (=heart). How can I make such a choice?
Wednesday, I met with a powerful woman (spiritually and business-wise) to discuss her funding an art project of mine (www.TheBrassFamily.com); and realized my new job would consume all my time and energy. I wasn’t conscious of this realization: I just sat down in her office, exhausted, showed her the project, and burst into tears. All my body and mind and voice could say was “Nooooo!” But what I couldn’t explain to her was what “no” meant at that time. We were both mystified and the meeting ended.