What if life is about detoxifying? When people haven’t cleared their toxic loads they spill over on to their children and then the children start out with a toxic burden that takes longer to release. Today I was listening to Deepak discuss some research around the fact that from the time a person is in the womb they can for one thing read the mind of the mother…if she even thinks about having a smoke…the baby will show a stress response…seriously. That is intriguing.
So babies who are born into loud violent families are loaded with stress before they even come out of the womb…then they get to spend the rest of their lives releasing not only their own blocks but also that of their family essentially. So what happens when that toxic load isn’t released before the next generation is born…it is just a cumulative effect and you end up with ghettos, ongoing abuses, wars, and tragedy.
Today I was upstairs on the roof. It was a gorgeous day, gentle breeze, view of the harbor and the inter coastal, plants to tend. A roof top garden. Normally for me this would be paradise right? Nope. People had heard dad was dying in his building and had already started helping themselves to his stuff. His favorite trowel had been taken and he had a lot of work to do. So imagine a man who has accumulated over a long lifetime a very heavy splashy load of unresolved frustrations and struggles to control his temper at the best of times, lets just say that I would not be surprised if the rants could be heard 7 flights down on to the ground at times.
The level of toxicity flowing was impressive. If it was cathartic that would be one thing however it seemed like a feedback loop that just fed one grief and gripe into another. I stopped him at one point and asked him if his gut actually hurt at this point as you could feel this virulent stream of anger flowing straight from his injured gut. He said yes. I offered to teach him a breathing technique to help with the stress. He chose the further ranting option.
The result for me was that I wanted to be anywhere but on that roof. The rants occasionally were aimed in my direction and I was a bit thin on the ground today. Plus I was bored as at that moment I didn’t have anything to “do” As I wasn’t caring for the plants in the way that Dad needed . I don’t do boredom well at all. And my natural response when dealing with aggression in people is to sooth or remove myself…neither were valid as this was our “quality time” before he died time. I experienced it as slow torture. Add to that poor sleep due to a bed hogging albeit adorable dog, PMS, I was hangry and experiencing day 3 withdrawals from sugar and you have a recipe for a blow up with the barked orders that were coming my way. I would like to say that I am incredibly proud of the fact that instead of losing my shit as I was getting terrifyingly close to doing, I instead learned how to Marble papers with David the lounge Yoda and went to meditation. I felt much more human after that.
The problem with being next to heavy toxic loads is that they spill when jostled. So the trick is to learn how to release the toxicity without generating any more because that shit is like a gremlin in water. You have to be so careful.
So maybe that is really what this year is about. It is a year long detoxification. I removal of the sins of generations and myself. A year of forgiveness, empathy, generosity, and letting go. I know for myself I have stored those layers of toxins as cushy fat layers through my own self soothing with sugar. So I am curious. If the coping techniques (drown the pain with sugar) and the protective spongy walls come down will I be a raw mess underneath? It is almost like I need to learn to create an energetic toxicity shield that only allows the greater good to flow in and out and the slothing toxicity gets converted to compost and just runs to ground and becomes fertilizer for the world. Maybe that is what this blog is. Maybe someone else will benefit from my shit.
Today is my last day with the old guy. He is getting gruffer and gruffer. It is a bit like those old movies where the kid needs to have the dog leave for the dogs sake and he says “Go on, GET! I don’t want you any more!” All the while stuffing back tears. I think that must be what is happening. For all of that gruffness there still is that gooey center. For my own sanity I have to believe that.
Dad has configured his house where there is no room to be in the room with him or share time with him. He takes his meals and watches TV in bed and there is barely room to stand in there. I try to lure him out to the table I created in the lounge from his stuff. He came out once. So no. No Hallmark moments. My bed is in the hallway entry. I am coping by reading, meditating, blogging, and shopping for books online. Today I need to face the piper and see how much my books that I have gotten weigh. I am not sure I want to know. I know I have my dads hoarding instinct when it comes to books that is for sure. I can’t believe my collection. I am coming back with no extra clothes but a shit ton of spiritual books, holistic health books and art supplies. That should say something about my true through-line.