Stinging Hands & Messy Love

I sat next to my son and watched him eat salad, peas and lasagna.  And garlic bread.

Long pause for dramatic effect.

I've never wanted cafeteria lasagna so badly.

After he ate, I got a cup of decaf and sat next to an old friend.  I was fully present in that moment.  My brain was calm and clear.  I was comfortable in my skin.

(That same lasagna eating five year old is currently sitting on my lap watching me type.  His hair smells so good.)

I had a good friend tell me that he was surprised at how low my self esteem was.  This was shortly after my divorce and I was in the throes of looking for peace.  I was shocked that he was able to pick up on that.  More shocked that I didn't pick up on it.

I had been masquerading so long as someone who was happy with who she was, I was in serious denial that I wasn't.  But it found me.  It always finds you.

Denial is a form that we take when we are not strong enough to handle the consequences.  Or the time just isn't right.  It didn't make me unintelligent or weak, it simply meant my brain was protecting itself adamantly against something that might just break me.

Before my decision to fast, I had made a string of really poor choices.  It coincided with my family being in town and put a spotlight on these choices.  If my family had not been present, perhaps I would have denied these poor decisions and just continued on that same destructive path.  But they were there.  Taking a front row seat to my cancerous behavior and denial was not an option.  Because they know me.  Inside and out.

Having someone know you and love you thoroughly carries with it a great amount of responsibility.  You are responsible for your behavior because it affects them.  You are responsible for your words because they affect them.  You are responsible for how you spend your time, your money, your resources because their love for you supersedes the superficial and demands your soul.  Everything about you affects those who love you because they are connected to you.

I have a dear friend who has not had a friend love her thoroughly.  Whatever the reason, she is unfamiliar with messy love.  She is good at loving others but not good at allowing others to love her.  It's interesting to see how she responds to things as someone who is missing this piece.  It's quite different from me who has been loved so well ... I just expect others to know how. 

But the bleak fact is that this is not the case with many people.  Many do not have the kind of family that I have, the kind of friends that I have.  Many are living their lives without experiencing that messy love that sees your flaws and meets you where you are....in the pit if necessary.  Getting dirty with you.  Being scared right along with you.

I shudder to think where I would be if it weren't for my family.  For my decisions, even with this tremendous amount of messy love, have been sub-par.  Had I not had them I would most likely be dead ... or stripping on Bourbon ... or stuck in an abusive relationship.

Which is why I withhold judgment of others....I know what my soul looks like.  I know that I have been given the great gift of intense love and that is perhaps the only thing that has saved me at times.

So for this reason, denial is not an option.  It would be an act of squander for me to live without thought...in a way that is unbecoming and destructive.  I would not only be cheating myself and the ones who love me, but also others who haven't experienced messy love.  I would be metaphorically slapping my friend in the face that has had to make do without it.

I have slapped many faces.  So many times that my hands stung.

And still I was thoroughly loved.

I actually kinda like myself now...with or without cafeteria lasagna residing in my belly... so perhaps the stinging hands are a thing of the past.