I still can't let go and surrender myself to the care and vigilance of God. I know and I want to, but I keep spiralling back to the same ping pong dynamic of anger, sadness and then ultimately blaming myself because I know better, want better, deserve better.
So God, I'm talking to you now. Show me how to place myself in your care, to trust that YOU love me and you think I'm pretty great and if I'd just get out of your way (so to speak) you'd show me that, won't you?
Interesting ... apparently I never posted what I wrote above, which was probably about 2 weeks ago, but could have been yesterday. But actually, I wanted to just record some things that are starting to happen, which I think are headed in a good, healing direction. I've been talking to God more, really finding myself in situations where I begin to recognize the codependent patterns and I stop and turn it over to God. The thing about CoDa is the repetition, using the language, sticking to the program, until suddenly you start to "get it". That's not to say I am cured, hell no. Way far away from that, but beginning to see a flicker ... and feeling the pain. Tonight I found myself in a bizarre google journey suddenly thinking about the artist who created a painting that I received some years ago. I googled her and upon arriving at her website, went back through her works and came upon the body of work that the painting I own must have come from. And then I noticed that there was a catalogue, and an essay by the curator - my boss at the time, who gave me the painting. I began to read and was STUNNED by the depth and emotion that her works elicited from him. He was always elegant and intellectual in his writing, passionate about the arts, but clearly, her work touched him on a level I never knew. And suddenly, the pain hit me. He had given me the painting in an off-handed way one day, as if to say, you like this? Here, take it. I was pretty overwhelmed at the gift and humbled and, coda as I am, had to have SOME reason for deserving a gift like this. So I said, oh, it's for my birthday (which was around that time) and he wrote a brief note on the back and that was that. The painting wasn't necessarily my taste, but I treasured the gift anyway and hung it proudly at home. It became even more dear to me, and symbolic, when he committed suicide a month later. His death was devastating, and I grieved, but I don't think I really ever let myself REALLY grieve, really mourn the LOSS of him. Allow myself to admit how much he meant to me (I had moved far from home and he was the closest thing to family for a time) and it hit me tonight, HARD, that in fact this painting had meant A LOT to him, that the cavalier way he had given it to me was just one more hint at the terrible event that was to come (in retrospect, there were many clues that he had been planning his death for some time and I know
that a part of my pain is from wondering how I could have missed it, how could I have helped him not to feel so lost?) I am crying now, thinking of the loss and it hurts so much, but I'm letting myself hurt - I'm not pushing it away.
Another aha moment I had this week, and I wish I could remember what exactly lead up to it, but while I was wondering out loud to God, why is my life like this, is this really what You have planned for me? what you WANT for me? I suddenly said out loud, wait, I've been getting in Your way! That's IT! I, with all my manipulations, lies, shutting down, hiding, flip-flopping, capitulating ... it goes on and on ... I have been standing in the way of my higher power truly taking care of me. THAT'S what it means to let go.
Once upon a time, I taped a sentence to my journal: "leap, and the net will appear". I thought it was all about being brave and jumping into the thing you set your sights on. I'm beginning to realize that no, it's about giving yourself up to God (as you understand/define/believe your higher power to be). Perhaps it would be better to read: "let yourself fall and the wings will appear".