Pretty much most of my life I've identified with being a practical, common sense-using, responsible, considerate person. I don't like confrontation and fighting, nor do I like to get angry. A common occurrence for me has been that someone flakes out on some sort of project, then I step in and just get it done or smooth things over, just because it's often less fuss and nonsense. It's less time-consuming than whining about the situation.
Expecting perfection from everyone feels like a waste of my attention and energies. I often allow other humans their foibles because I know mistakes happen to all of us. One moment I'm present and aware. and the next I'm dreaming and off in another dimension, running a red light....and feeling so stupid and chagrinned afterward.
And....I've finally learned to not beat myself up and hang onto that stuff. I'm doing my best. We're all doing our best, retarded as it may appear at times....
These last few months I've found myself in the darnedest situations. It seems I'm practicing the whole "stating my truth" (regardless of what someone else might think of me) and "standing up for myself" over and over again, in all different kinds of circumstances. And guess what? My initial reaction to many of these events is anger. Yep, blood-pumping, seeing red, How dare you mess with me! anger. I really don't like feeling that particular emotion....and....at the same time, it gets my juices flowing, so much so, that ultimately, I liberate myself from stupid old obsolete ways of being that really no longer serve me.
No more playing the role of Miss Dependable Doormat
Especially this past year, I've found myself letting go of causes. Being a part of any group seems to wane with time for me. I just end up going back to doing life my own way and letting go of feeling like I have to be responsible for other people and their chosen reality creations. Looking back, I can see where it was more of a way to connect and socialize with people than it was about the cause or idea.
I love people and interacting with them can often be fun....and....sometimes humans have a way of creating the same old story over and over, never making a choice to do anything differently even after being miserable in what they have going. Some people just love to fight with self-righteous abandon. All of that gets old very quickly. I've done enough of that on my own to where I'm letting go of my past and making different choices--at least attempting to see if I can get something new, something more enjoyable than what I had going before....all without trying to convince or change anyone else.
Alas, there are a lot of people steadfastly hanging onto their old perspectives and perceptions no matter what the cost, no matter that they aren't considering another's freedom to just be. Normally I choose to just distance myself from those people, and if they want my assistance, it's up to them to come to me and ask. But it gets stickier and harder when you live with them. Getting a bit of distance from those closest to you truly helps with the clarity, but sometimes even that feels tricky.
Which role do I play this time: Responsible Slack Picker-Upper or the Silly Flake?
This time I allowed myself to play both parts, and the Flake was especially liberating....
Despite adamantly stating last fall that I was not bringing someone into my home and playing the role of nursemaid and caregiver for them, this spring, I found myself doing that very thing. Another person who had told my husband to go ahead and make arrangements to move this 90-year-old woman out of assisted living in a city on the other side of the state and into her own small-town home flaked out the day before, said she couldn't do it.
So, there we were. I couldn't leave my husband unsupported, so we packed her up and moved her in with us for an indeterminate length of time. As her chosen power of attorney, he had to make arrangements to clean out and sell her old townhome, get her finances in order, and a new home found. I checked in with myself to see if I felt truly okay with allowing it, and it seemed like the best path in the moment. I figured my soul must have had a purpose for me in this.
She's a lovely lady, someone I admired and loved and appreciated, though she wasn't my relative. The clincher here is that she hasn't been staying embodied. Her short-term memory isn't there unless something happens that strikes her emotionally--usually in a negative way--and then it's as though it's forever stamped on her brain, and to be brought up with great clarity when she's feeling a bit on the naughty side.
She didn't want to be an imposition, but she really didn't make any effort to be helpful. Understandably so, it just didn't matter to her anymore. She'd have moments of clarity and realizing she needed to get her ducks in a row, but that's as far as any of it went.
Sometimes when she'd come to after having been out in other dimensions, she'd think she was still in her old home, she'd have a scowl on her face and be a bit bossy and mean. Mostly, she just laid around, snacking all day long, telling me how kind I was to her.
The worst part was I discovered I couldn't leave her alone, not even to go for a walk on my own. She'd slip out of her body and wouldn't remember me telling her where I planned to be, and then return and find herself afraid and disoriented. Plus, I didn't want to leave my cats alone with her. She wasn't a pet lover and was too unaware to make sure they didn't slip outside on her. My girls were amazing with her, however, and managed to keep her entertained even though she didn't want them touching her.
From the start, I told her that I was tickled to have the time with her, and that I was going to make the most of it. She wasn't the easiest person to cope with at first, but I allowed it because she was experiencing a huge change at a speed she hadn't known in the last two years of a pandemic shutdown.
Not my circus, not my monkey, dammit!
After rearranging my life around her for seven weeks, and even finding myself clipping thickened claw-like smelly toenails (shudder), I realized I'd had my fill of the whole story. I consciously let myself immerse in the role of Silly Flake and she got me out of the zoo. This once tidy, mature woman who would have been repulsed with the idea, wasn't bathing properly either, and I was beginning to smell that on my furniture and in my own home, which is my safe and sacred space.
She kept repeating, "You work so hard and I'm so lazy. You're so kind." It began to grate on my nerves because she absolutely made no effort to change anything about her circumstances. Being told I was being so kind was the same as being told I was so nice--it's a line energy suckers use--and this boob was effing done!
Yep, I got angry. I didn't express it with her, but I let my husband know in no uncertain terms that I needed a break. Living to a ripe old age of 90 doesn't mean you get to have me wait on you, hand and foot, or boss me around. I wouldn't do that to another person. The only ones I let boss me around are my cats....
I found myself thankful that my parents died when they did. My mom was actually afraid of getting Alzheimer's or dementia, and being a burden to her loved ones. It felt way too soon to lose them, yet, they both crossed over with dignity and with their faculties and awareness intact.
Our guest really didn't want to be alive here anymore. Like Adamus Saint-Germain has said, the die/kill switch had been activated but the body and mind were still running through their established patterns. Her consciousness wasn't present in her body most of the time. She was off exploring other created dimensions. She didn't know she could just walk out of her body, stay out, and be done. And it didn't seem like I was supposed to say anything in that regard. It felt like I was dreamwalking her (helping her through a major transition not necessarily ending in death), allowing her her own chosen experience, and making sure she had a dignified exit instead of her dying alone in her home, only to be discovered maybe days later.
It all worked out. We got her affairs in order and her house sold--something that honestly would have been more complex and drawn out if we were having to work with her from a distance....and....I really didn't mind her company up until the point where suddenly I had enough of that experience and was done playing the role I had going.
We took her to stay with the person who originally planned to have her stay with her until a possible opening in an assisted living facility in town came about, though I don't think she could handle even that anymore--she needed closer supervision. After two weeks away, with me coming to the decision that my part was absolutely done, and her sister discovering that she liked having her with her, we left her there.
There have been a few other events where I observed I was standing up for myself, sometimes a bit more vocally passionate than others. I used some "colorful" language that seemed appropriate for what was going on, and on those particular occasions it actually worked for me, though it felt as though I was stooping to the other person's limited level. But it seemed the only way to get the other person to hear me out rather than trying to mollify, placate, or talk down to me.
Other times, it was a system that failed because we are imperfect humans, after all, and humans unintentionally "make mistakes"--all of us. I get no enjoyment out of putting someone who's trying to help me on the spot--trying to serve the public is often the hardest job one can do. Yet, sometimes things fall through the cracks, and I found out I needed to speak up (this time I didn't need the colorful words) and give my version of the story so I wouldn't be unjustly held responsible for something I had nothing to do with--the loss of an item I had borrowed and had made certain I returned promptly. For me, it was a matter of honor. I would gladly pay to replace anything I borrowed and lost--if I was the one who lost it.
After two weeks of fretting and then finally going in and stating my piece, two days later I received a phone call telling me they had found the items. I had put the whole situation in play in order to get myself practicing the art of simply standing up for myself....
I have hope....
So, my friends, that's my latest musings in this crazy, chaotic, anger-fueled, wobbly world. Yes, I know it's a roller-coaster ride of mountain tops and deep ocean floors. I find I'm checking in with myself in my lower moments to see if I really want to be here yet....and....frustrating and heart-breaking as it can be at times, there's this something inside me--some diamond-hard foundational rock--that reminds me, without doubt, that this is what I came to be here for in the first place (pull up your big girl panties, Pen!), and I'd be so disappointed if I didn't see it all the way through.
I'm here to stay for quite a bit longer....I've got stuff to do and experience in a brand new way....