Fear


Last weekend was the 3rd one of Ike Pono and I am still processing it – I’m still processing the first two as well.  Although there wasn’t a huge “Aha” moment, I’m noticing small ones when I least expect it.  Plus, every once in a while,  there’s a “Huh?” moment.  Sunday evening as we were getting ready to leave at the close, they were talking about another session being planned for 5 days in Hawaii – boy, that would be cool!  Someone suggested being able to swim the warm ocean but I said I prefer sides to my water.  He had a puzzled look on his face, so I explained I am afraid of the water.  I learned to swim with a dignified dog paddle that gets me from one end of the pool to the other, but I am still afraid of the water.  He asked about it and I told him when I was about 5 or 6 living in  Manhattan Beach, CA, I was sucked under by a wave.  “And you never mentioned this near death experience during the weekends?”.  Yikes!  Near Death Experience?  I never thought of it in those terms.  I just remember my older sister and I went down to the beach with a neighbor without permission.  I was playing at the very edge with the little waves and the next thing I knew, I was in the water, all wet and water in my mouth.  I don’t think we ever told Mom what happened.  As far as I know, that is why I am afraid of the water.  Even now, when I swim, the face never goes near the water and I always wear my glasses.  Now I wonder if that is why I have been so afraid of life, of taking risks because if I do, I get my nose clipped – especially if I haven’t asked permission.  Our parents brought us up to be sure we are safe and secure before venturing out – not conducive to stepping out and taking risks.  Maybe that is why I look for approval and permission before doing something – I haven’t been trusting my intuition and inner voice.  My younger sister was different from my older sister and me – she would announce “I have done such and such”.  Where did that come from?  Maybe there has never been anything I wanted so much it didn’t matter what anyone said.

As I look back, I have always been afraid of the world – it’s a scary place and I am not safe.  I know now Mom was only protecting us because she loves us, but it used to bug me no end when she would say things like “Don’t fall down the bank”, Don’t burn yourself”, “Don’t trip on the branch”, etc.  As if I was going to fall and hurt myself on purpose!  I didn’t see the message of love, I just heard ” You’re not smart enough to know not to do things so I am going to constantly tell you”.  Even at 63 I still hear it from her – she is in permanent “Mom mode”.   She is on autopilot, so she says it to my husband and my two sisters as well.  I am finally realizing to be grateful she and my Dad loved us so much and wanted the best for us – unfortunately young ears don’t hear the same message they sent out to us.  I had to be this age to finally understand.  2 years ago when my older sister was visiting for Mom’s birthday, she said something that put a whole new spin on how we were raised.  She said “Mom and Dad gave us a very valuable gift – integrity!”.   When I looked at from that angle, I  knew what she meant.  I can not be anything but truthful, no matter how much I would like to at times.  There are times when I want to cut corners, but something in me won’t allow it, no matter how much easier it would be.   The best definition of integrity I know is – doing what is right whether anyone is watching or not.

I am much more inclined now to consult the medical intuitive – it has been a very uncomfortable weekend and I need to know what is at the bottom of all this.   Normally I would beat myself thinking how dumb and stupid for creating this – now it is with love and compassion I see it and want to know what was going on in my head.  I know ego was in charge, she has been for most of my life until I finally figured out she is my false self who loves drama, victimhood and fear – the more the better.  I realize it may have been my way of hiding from not finding work I am passionate about or a good reason not to venture out into the world, maybe fear of being wrong, not being good enough, not worthy,  doing something and either failing or not succeeding or just looking stupid.  I think fear is the base of it and maybe that ocean incident – still trying to get my head around calling it near death – is really what set it in place.  I have a picture of myself when I was about 3 or 4, it was taken in the back yard of the house in Manhattan beach and is one of a series.  All of the pictures, except for this one,  show me being a good girl and smiling for the camera.  This one I have a stance and expression on my face that says “I will do it, but I won’t like it!” – where did that little girl come from and where did she go?  She left the fearful good girl in her place.  I wish I could remember what was going on that day.

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