Arad, Monday, January 3, 2011
according to the assignment in the
right frame:
NOT edited, NOT corrected,
not even spelling mistakes, grammar, missing or superfluos words
-
not to be read, until I'll be able to bear the shame
of exhibiting and exposing a mess - if it indeed should be a mess..
Another sharing of Rivka Gutmann about "Something to Feel About"
(s. below)
and how "The Way of the Heart", advocated by many nowadays,
has to go also through the tiniest feelings,
which may point to something, that will turn into a "Carmel-Chanuka-Fire",
if you do not pay attention to it in the very beginning,
It reminded me of a sentence which I read while copying and editing
excerpts from my Partnership Diary 1977:
and how Yanina, my friend, prevented me from going into a catastrophic
direction
I obviously wrote - in a manifesto for "Partnership", - that
we should focus on our communalities and ignore our differences:
"No, no, no!" she said , "if you do not put these differences
on the table too,
they will later explode into something terrible."
When I now read this sentence to her - said far back in 1977,
when none of us had any ideas about "God's" teaching about
denial,
she said: "This wasn't me, this was channeled!"
And combining her warning in 1977 with Rivka's conversion of the Carmel-fire
into a metaphor,
I could deeper see, where I failed myself in extinguishing a small fire,
by ignoring it instead.
And I ignored it - what else could be expected from me - because I wanted
to be helpful,
helpful to my daughter-in-love, not burdening her, not exacerbating
her tension towards the pirate and fairies birthday party.
And as I denied and trampled over my own body feelings of being sick
with influenza,
I had denied before and so had she,
that I was disappointed by the fact, that she had promised to accompany
me to Tel-Aviv to buy the globe and the Mica-crystals for Mika's birthday,
and then she manipulated herself and me into not keeping this promise:
My daughter let me know, that she was (finally) ready to meet me on
that Sunday, on which we wanted to go to Tel-Aviv
(I had wanted to go on Wednesday before even coming to Shoham this time,
but was happy to yield to E.'s suggestion,
and preferred this even to meeting my daughter,
but E. jumped on the opportunity:
"perhaps you go to Tel-aviv with your daughter, she likes shopping,
and she doesn't have the problem of driving into the city,
and I could bring you to her to Modi'in, I've things to do there anyway."
What a perfect manipulation!
My daughter wrote, that she was no longer "into shopping",
and that she definitely didn't want to accompany me,
but that I was invited to visit her in her own house.
Such an invitation had not happened for 7 years,
and , of course, I thought it was a good idea,
and that I would go to Tel-Aviv on my own later.
What I hadn't known, nor had E. forseen it,
that on that Sunday, the 12th of November, "winter" would
smash on Israel,
after no rain, no storm, no winter had been in sight through all the
weeks and months before.
IN fact, this "winter" started exactly when I descended from
the bus at the railway station.
Even this little detail was staged.
I had intended to use the train from Modi'in to Tel-Aviv,
but when I came there with Itamar, after we had bought his birthday
present
(something that gave me great relief at that time, since the difficulty
of the "shopping" in Tel-aviv was the gift I had intended
for Itamar, not the gifts for Mika)
the train had left that very minute, and I would have to wait an entire
hour for another one.
If I had not missed the train, I would have arrived at Tel-Aviv at least
half an hour before the stormy flood.
Of course, there was that other lesson, which was included in the drama:
the taxi- lesson....
but still, there was the outcome which led to my illness 4 days later,
which in turn let to my very very conscious decision, to deny this illness
in front of E.
At first it seemed, that I succeeded by oppression the sickness itself,
even the cough,
when I came on Friday around noon, I believed myself, that I was healthy,
and that, indeed, I did not need to frighten E. with my sickness.
She had asked me 5 days before: please pray, that Mika will stay healty
until the birthday party,
and to have told her, that I myself was now sick - and cause her to
get panicky, that I would infest (?) Mika,
I really didn't think, I could allow myself that.
but meanwhile, the sickness began to develop in all the family, first
Immanuel,
who at Saturday night left with medicine
and then after he had gone, during the night, the high fever of Mika
and towards the morning also E. began with her sickness.
All this had nothing to do with me, since I was cautions not to come
too near to anyone,
and anyway physical closeness is rarely occurring with my family, even
with Mika.
But then when on Sunday morning my coughing erupted in all its usual
violence,
and E. was already driven by the "bad wave", she spurted out:
"Perhaps you are the one who has infected all of us."
I did not take this seriously then, but little did I know,
that it was only the beginning of something that has not ended until
now:
a gap has opened between my daughter-in-love and me,
and no end of its closure is in sight.
This, in itself, is probably also "staged",
for E. has to stand alone, at least alone without me,
in making the crucial, critial transition from her job as an employee
to working as an independent, and doing so by fulfilling her dream.
But the fact, that something sweet comes out of everything bitter, is
one thing,
What is important now, is why and how the "directors" used
denial for staging.
I quoted the message, that I now see in the dialog between Mother and
Mika,
which E. reported to me:
"I am not sharing what I feel", said the little girl.
But wasn't this exactly, what her mother and her grandmother did?
Their feelings, not only my feeling about my sickness,
but our feelings about the broken promise of E. concerning Tel-Aviv,
which gave her feelings of guilt, when she saw, how impossible my return
home was on that Sunday.
When there was no taxi available, after I had finally arrived with a
train, that had finally come ,
- for because of the storm all transport was handicapped -
she could not even come to fetch me, since both she and Mika were sick,
and since driving at night to the airport station would be a nightmare
even if they would have been healthy.
Moreover something was not alright with the car, or so she said.
"You'll get sick after this!"
But I countered proudly: I won't get sick, relying on my so cooperative
body.
she mentioned her feelings of guilt, and though on Friday I hid from
her, that I, indeed got sick,
and though on Sunday, when she heard my coughing, she might have forgotten
the exterior reason for it,
the fact that she let me go to Tel-Aviv without herself and without
a car, and thus get into the flood,
I believe, that somewhere inside the feelings of guilt were still ruminating.
And now, that the super-tension of both, the birthday spectacle on Friday,
the preparing of Mika's own room and kingdom with all the physical work
on Shabbat,
and another though small birthday celebration with me and the neighbor
just before Immanuel's flight,
and then the beginning sickness of Mika,
would have made every person collapse, and most certainly E.,
- both in soul and body -
there was I, the scapegoat, but also the beloved mother-in-love,
who gives her life to this family, in a way that is not known otherwise.
But still - we did not talk!, we did not heed the fire that had begun
burning.
We were both afraid, what "talking" would make erupt.
No "catastrophe" as people understand it, came out of it
But for me - and I believe for my daughter-in-love - it's bad enough,
what happened.
I already had intended - during the last days - to tell her, once we
would "talk again",
that we should heed Mika's message, or more correct her mother's message
to Mika:
"You should never hide your feelings, you
should find the right person to talk to!"
But through all these 4 years
(on Dec. 29, 2010 it was 4 years of my assignment with this family),
it was rare that E. was ready to let herself be supported, even when
the issue had nothing to do with me.
And I too, was careful, to not misuse her for letting myself be supported,
because she hadn't really learnt the rules and tools of support.
She would take my pain on herself ,
or she would advise me, when it was not yet time to advise.
This is how we sank into a loving , but threatening relationship.
We no longer saw the small fire, and let it spread and spread....
I am grateful, that I have all this time for integrating this experience,
all the time since my -too late or too early ? - return from Shoham
on Dec.21,
[except for the 24 hours connected to Ayelet's party and my deep talking
with Arnon the next morning and the transport to and fro ]
(since I'm not wanted with E. and Mika, though Immanuel is on flight)
to think and heal and combine my own - seemingly so insignificant -
experience
with the bigger picture.
And then, when I get all these bombastic messages
about what wonderful things are coming towards us in 2011,
I bow my head and ask sadly:
Are you, all of you messengers, from this planet and from elsewhere,
able to handle the little fire, which I did not heed out of love, out
of my heart??????
**********
After a long time swimming-swirling in the pool.
I feel, as if I learnt nothing in all these 33 years of KNOWING about
how to express and move emotions with BODY.
So it is only natural, that on this day I came across two reminders,
one was a link, sent by Ya'acov, my brother-peer, and the other was
the link to RUOW in the triple frame on top of the page: "Love
taught us to sing together..."
The link led me to the website of the channeler of RUOW, and there I
saw new info, especially about her book "Feelings matter"
and a page with FAQS
16:00
Why did I now "waste" half an hour to find
where
I told about re-discovering my amethyst heart?
And why did I receive this link to Rivka Gottesmann's second sharing,
called "Material for feeling" (contrasting the Hebrew saying:
'material for thinking')
from Ya'acov, - the only other time of contact since November 4, 2010?
I thought of the puzzle of broken tiles,
which I composed in the "Cave of the Womb" on Shabbat 01-01-11,
11:00
Whatever the unhealed reasons for destroying something I built,
(or anyone else for that matter),
"in the end', in the very end,
"God"-"I"-"WE" will create a beautiful
puzzle of the broken pieces....
Which means in this case: the disconnection between me and my daughter-in-love
happened for reasons of unhealedness.
But it also happened for two main purposes
(there are more, but I want to mention just these here):
E. needs to experience to stand on her own feet,
while making the transition from an employed to an independent worker
She will learn to manage being a mother at the same time, even if her
husband is on flight.
I, on the other hand, need to experience, that the period of my grandmotherhood
is over, and that the time of "Loving Hearts" is ripe.
|
Arad, Tuesday, January 4, 2011, my
daughter's 46th birthday
8:50 AM -
see below: the Sun-Eclipse later this
morning
I had a crazy inspiration, when I woke up digesting
a disgusting dream-scene:
I was having some work to do, for which I needed the cooperation of
a dog,
a bitch which reminded me of my beloved "Larqa",
who disappeared in 1993.
Suddenly the dog left our working place, walked around nervously in
the room
and then began to shit an enormous heap, which I could have handled,
if she would not have spread and splashed it around with legs and tail.
In the past I dreamt often about peeing and shitting when not
in privacy...
but it was always myself, and nowadays this type of dream occurs less....
So why now the big mess - made by a dog from my past?
I tried to explore, if there still was something shameful (shit) I ignore.
And that was, when I had the crazy inspiration - while still in bed:
'Instead of re-reading, editing and
carefully sculpting yesterday's outpour ,
you should, for once, leave it as it is, messy and missing, not
even read it,
and go ahead and allow yourself another outpour about the same theme:
your understandings of the complex staging of your present drama with
E.
This one you may edit later this day and juxtapose it to the story of
yesterday!'
There I am, viewing
and reviewing the time-period since December 7, 2010.
It was 4 weeks ago, when this talk took place between Arad and Shoham:
Rachel: "Tomorrow you don't have to fetch
me from Lod trainstation,
I plan to travel to Ramat-Gan for trying to find and buy the hard-to-get
gifts:
a digital solar-system for Itamar, and
2 gifts that belong to my song for Mika."
E.: "Perhaps you can postpone this till Sunday,
when I don't work,
and I accompany you with the car, though I'm afraid to enter the city!"
Instead I felt and showed great joy, joy for the double reason,
that I didn't have to find my way alone, and joy that we would be together.
On Wednesday I traveled by bus and train, and E. fetched me from Lod.
On Friday, I reminded my daughter (e-mail), that she had agreed to see
me.
She suggested to meet "somewhere in Shoham" on Sunday-morning.
Sunday? What should I do now? Why did I attract such a dilemma
between a precious meeting with my daughter, the second in 7 years,
and a precious and also practical travel with my daughter-in-love?
When I shared my dilemma with E., she jumped on it as if relieved:
"Ask your daughter to take you to Ramat-Gan
instead of me,
she likes shopping and she isn't afraid of driving in the city!
And I, in turn, will bring you to Modi'in, I've things to do there!"
My daughter wrote, that she definitely would not drive me anywhere,
but that I was invited to visit her in her home at Modi'in.
I thought, that this was a good solution:
I could see my daughter in her own home and E. didn't need to be afraid.
And since at Modi'in there is a train-station, I could go from their
to the city.
When I came to Modi'in and saw, that sick Itamar
was with his mother,
I was even more convinced, that things had turned out wonder-fully:
I could share my predicament about my long-intended gift for Itamar
[see my
"Birthday Trauma", which is even more kindled in the case
of a child's Bar-Mitzva!]
with both, mother and son,
and the outcome was an immense relief:
Itamar preferred a camera, and we went straightaway to the mall
and bought one for the same price as I had intended for the sun-system.
BUT,
from then on "the staging" became "worse" and worse
and worse.
If I hadn't tried "to utilize" the fact, that we were in the
Modi'in mall,
in order to "perhaps" find the globe and the "Mica-crystalls"
there,
I would not have missed the train -outside the mall - by one minute!
I would have arrived at Tel-Aviv station, which borders Ramat-Gan!
I would have made the same mistake as I did when I arrived by bus,
but at that hour the weather would not have showed me my mistake!
The first mistake was outrageous stupidity, staged by my Higher Self:
The Crystal-Shop's website showed a map with its "Six Day Street".
[referring to the so-called "Six
Day War", in June 1967]
On the map the street was
the continuation of Abba Hillel Silver Street,
which I recalled from the early eighties, when we lived in Ramat-Gan.
It didn't occur to me to check the endless distance of this Silver Street,
until it ends into the short Six Day St., which is only after some 5
km!
But even if I thought, I could save the money for a taxi and just walk,
it was my stinginess towards myself, - my second, pathetic mistake,
which led me into walking by foot to a place which I did not know,
and this while being so pressured by shops and cities in any case anyway.
There I had just spent 1180 NIS for Itamar's camera, but a taxi for
myself?
I've worked on my complex pattern with money already, see Dec.
12-25
and I won't go once more into what is a modest lesson (crucial as it
is!)
modest compared to the two big lessons,
- that I must be able to lovingly accept, that my love creates
pain,
instead of judging myself and trying so hard to avoid causing pain!
- that I must be ready to upset the cosy relationship, like with E.,
by demanding explicitly that we support one another when triggered,
instead of ignoring "small fires" for fear of getting burnt
by those!]
modest also compared to the signal,
that it's time for another "Lekh-Lekhâ":
time for "going-to-myself" from 23 years of grandmotherhood...
Now the staging entered full steam: I arrived
at Tel-Aviv railway station!
After asking people - I found a shortcut to Ramat-Gan through a tunnel,
but when I exited it, all hell broke loose from the sky, from "Heaven"!
I waited, but when "it" didn't pass, I decided to walk anyway
[ignoring, discarding my bitter lesson in the
Pyrennees in May 2001:
"you must pay attention to when
you MUST go back and go BACK!"]
I asked a woman about "6 Days St". She
didn't know.
Another woman, tiny, old, miserable heard the answer, and grabbed me:
"Come on, she doesn't know, I show you",
she pushed me under a roof:
"It's over there, but please give me 20 NIS for my bus-ride home!"
I was amazed by her tricky impertinence, and wouldn't have agreed,
but for the fact - another piece of staging -that E. had said in the
morning:
"When bad weather comes, I always feel so
much pity for the old people!"
So I gave the woman, what I did not spend on a taxi for myself.
At least, at that time I still had the illusion, that a taxi would cost
20 NIS.
Of course, the 6 Day St. was not "there" or nowhere else for
that matter.
I asked for the Abba Hillel Silver St , found it and began to walk it~~~~
A little relief was a thick sweater which my daughter had bestowed on
me,
but I did not have a proper coat, nor a shawl, and even if I had an
umbrella,
the storm would have simply ridiculed it by turning it around
Finally I succumbed to some girls' advice, to take a bus on the other
side.
The street was broad like a highway, with a fence in the middle.
But at a junction I found a way to pass it and to wait at a station.
Not even the busdriver knew "6 Day St", but let me off at
the big mall.
From there I asked people - if I found those outside at all - again
and again
and finally I discerned the 6 Day St, and after some trial and error
I was shown up a hidden stairway between two houses.
The size of the Crystal-shop, which I had detected on the Internet,
was immense, almost endless, but it was dry and quiet and empty,
for who would come here in such weather!
I was granted a break in my lesson - with the kindest of people, Shmulik,
I told about this angel on the abyss (Dec.12),
but the help was temporary.
Again I found myself in the stormy rain, and now
it was also dark.
Being cold and wet already, I thought, I could just as well find the
globe.
As before - at Shoham, at Modi'in - there was no globe to be found.
By this time I was so angry, that I became stubborn, obsessive ...
and I did find a better model than I had been looking for,
a special Dutch device of the Blue Planet, for 300 NIS:
Around the pole there was a slice with which Mika could always know,
what time it was at Abba's places, be it Los Angeles or Bangkok or NY
I found my way to the bus-station, barely grasping a place under the
shed.
When no bus came, I bravely wanted to learn my taxi-lesson right away!
But that was not the real purpose of the staging of my Higher Directors!
A taxi stopped amidst the raging puddles between street and sideway,
I got in, though another customer was already sitting in front.
I naively asked, how much it would cost till the Tel-Aviv railway-station.
"46 NIS"? "46 for 5 km?"
I screamed. "I don't have it!"
though I had it!
The other customer reacted swiftly: "I'll
pay whatever you cannot pay!"
I was ashamed, but neither did I want to frustrate the generous giver.
We agreed that I would pay 20NIS, and he would make up for the rest.
Another angel on the abyss! I was grateful.
But then began the real predicament: the street was jammed all along.
If I would have walked by foot, I had reached my destination earlier.
It was, as I was being punished for my former mistakes!
I used the time to draw out the "angel" ,
"I'm a Croatian", he claimed,
but actually he was one of the several hundreds of Jews from Armenia,
who had immigrated to Israel just 5 years ago.
The conversation, which also included the driver, was lively, satisfying.
But - said my money-pattern - why did I pay for a taxi at all?
At the train-station I heard, that the scheduled train "might"
come.
Since it wasn't clear "when", I waited on the platform for
half an hour.
Though there was a roof above me, it didn't protect me from the wind.
I - in my wet, cold clothes - shivered, dreaming only of coming home.
"I'll take a taxi right away", I encouraged myself.
But when the train let me off at Ben-Gurion Airport Railway Station,
(see the idyllic photos in K.i.s.s.-log
January 11, 2008]
I saw an endless snake of people and suit-cases
waiting for taxis.
I ran to the upper floor to see if there was a bus to Shoham after all.
According to the schedule pinned on there, it should come this minute.
It didn't come, nor did the phone-service hold what it promised.
E. started to call me again, worried,
but I knew there was no chance that she would fetch me with her car.
Nor did I wish this! Rain and storm and night and Mika about to sleep!
After all, there was that almost
fatal car-accident of mother and daughter
So I queued up, shivering, praying, praying, that my turn would come!
Sometimes - not often - I felt ashamed
of how poorly I handled my discomfort.
Where was all my wholeness gone?
All my skills of moving-healing feelings?
Was I the slave of my body sensations?
And what about all the bombastic words in those spiritual e-mails,
about the glorious times towards which we are heading?
How would they, - how will we then - cope with such a situation?
As so often, even in my usual, daily coping with myself
- with myself! not with my life, for my life is excellent!-
I felt frustrated and deserted by all those "Light&Love"
prophets.
Which reminds me, that there is another , ongoing lesson,
which I still haven't learnt -
though my consciousness is absolutely clear about it:
Those prophets have a task, just like I have a task,
and all their and my experiences will combine into a whole puzzle,
and this will happen, the faster I stick to my own task,
which is paying attention, moving and healing the tiniest feelings,
and the faster I bless them lovingly for their task,
instead of yearning for their support and co-understanding!
The taxi came faster than feared, and a warm
home awaited me.
"You'll get sick", E. warned,
"No, I won't get sick!" I said.
Thus the drama of denial started....
.
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