It wasn't my intention to take a break from blogging, but around the time of February and March I didn't really feel like I had much more to say, which is a shame because I had been regularly writing since 2004. My life was settling down post move and I had entered an almost hermetic phase full of introspection and self reflection -- the kind that doesn't make for the best writing. In addition to thinking a lot about career goals and starting a new blog and twitter account to support some of my freelance work, I was having big thoughts about life, death, and the sort of psychic baggage I've been carrying around.
Again, not the sort of self involved, pretentious prattle anyone wants to read about.
Standing on the edge of the proverbial rabbit hole, I dove headlong into the dark with the intent to release past traumas and heal any fragments of my psyche. I read books on chakra clearing, listened to sound therapy music, and meditated. It was a pretty intense past few months with equal parts strange dreams and epiphanies. I felt the release that only comes with deep self examination. Through this I came to peace -- or rather a maturation -- with a lot of big issues in my life, specifically my dysfunctional relationship with my mother.
My healing work had to happened at the time that it did because on Sunday I found out my mother is sick and it may be cancer. Although I'm still in shock, I'm coming to realize that my process with this news would have been totally different had I learned this just a few months ago.
On June 8, 1997, my mother wrote in her diary that it was the day that she lost her daughter.
On June 6, 2010, my mother told me that she had been seeing an oncologist and hematologist for the last few months. There will be tests on her bone marrow. While doctors are not sure what is making her sick, she wanted me to know so I could prepare for whatever the future brings.
On June 8, 2010, I ordered my mother flowers and told her that I loved her.
I didn't realize it at the time, but the reoccurrence of this date in our lives shows me that there are no coincidences. We can now, after thirteen years and a life time of dissonance, start to heal our relationship.
Here's my mom, caught in a cell phone picture, with the flowers I sent to her at work. She said they made her cry. Hopefully in a good way!