I’ve been stranded
 on this desert island for weeks. Blaming everyone else for me being here. Actually one person in particular: my mom. I’m on this infinitesimal speck of rock floating in a sea of despair and it’s not my fault. The island of blame has no resources for the deluded—it only echoes back to me my cold lonely question, why me? The pity party is not actually a party at all; this is a reference made by those not in denial about those of us who are. The pity pit is more like it. A hole I continuously fall into, a slippery slope that I slide on to the island of blame. Deep sigh.

My health coaches at HealthCoachTeam gave our group a worksheet called a belief transformation tool and I used it successfully to work through a belief I wanted to transform: comfort foods make me feel good. HA! I blew that one sky high. On our coaching call Debbie and Lynn stressed that the tool could be used with any belief. Okay how about: It’s mom’s fault that she’s ill and negative and unhappy. Ouch. Therefore it’s her fault that my life has been turned upside down and I am negative and unhappy. Double ouch.

There it is in black and white: the island of blame. And I’m not a tourist here dear reader I’m a freakin’ resident! I wrote out the worksheet answers and reduced my rating for strength of belief from a 10+ to a 7-8. Progress was made. Then I turned to my journal and wrote for pages finding release and forgiveness in the simple act of putting pen to paper. I let go once again of the practice of being right instead of loving. I will embrace this lesson until it is a part of me. My sticking point was that I believed I didn’t know how to forgive…my wise self answered: let go; choose love—that is forgiveness.

From this miraculous place of shift I came home to greet mom and share her morning and then settle at the computer to view a YouTube video (thanks Anastacia) that had been on my to-do list all week. I had resisted anything that might make me feel better. :::smile:::  (I’ll wait while you go take a peek—you’ll thank me for it afterwards.)

This twenty-minute talk by Hedy Schleifer was the Universe talking to me. Me. Personally. From her mouth to my heart: Cross the bridge. Take responsibility for the sacred space of relationship. Listen. With an open heart. Listen as if you’re learning a new language. It takes courage to be connected. Hedy crossed the bridge of Alzheimer’s to join her mother in her mother’s world and was recognized by her mother as “my daughter” (in Yiddish).

From the island of blame I could only attempt to connect with mom logically, it was safer there. I had to take the plunge into rough waters and swim with all my heart to know that safety is an illusion and give it up for being connected heart-to-heart by crossing the bridge. 

Hedy shares this quote by Rumi~

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.

I will mom. I will.