Moving back to New York to be with family is turning out to be an incredible journey, one that was not predictable. I came here to support my mother's well-being and help her in her job as superintendent of a five-story building. Little did I know what was in store and it looks nothing like I had expected. I thought my days would be filled with grocery shopping, cooking, washing dishes, vacuuming, doing laundry, organizing, scheduling repairs, running errands, jumping through hoops, and...IT IS, and it's the "and" I want to talk about.
In the midst of this daily exercise program I'm learning how to BE with my family. For a number of years I've kept myself at a distance of 3,000 miles, coming home on occasion. "Coming home" can be challenging and family dynamics a bitch, but something has been shifting since, yours truly, the black sheep of the family, has returned to New York and her flock.
Within days of moving back, a light began to shed on how I've been being with my family. As though watching a movie, I saw myself. I saw how I always have something to say about how they live their lives. I saw how I've been silently judging and criticizing, believing that if only they would listen to me, their lives would alter for the better. After all, I've been a seeker for over 40 years, on a quest for a better life and have learned a thing or two! I made suggestions, gave unsolicited advice, coached where no coaching was requested, and nothing seemed to change. I always ended my phone calls and visits with, "I love you," with a touch of sadness, feeling hopeless at not being able to contribute and lessen their struggles.
Within days of being here, I saw my arrogance, my expectations, my standards, that were not theirs. And I saw their magnificence, their own personal wisdom, and how much I loved them. No wonder I had become the "black sheep" of the family, no wonder the many upsets each time I came to "help," no wonder, on my visits they couldn't wait for me to leave. And I didn't even notice their lack of enthusiasm when I mentioned, "It's time to move back to New York."
I don't recognize myself lately, nor do they. The love that has always been there is now available to me as I let go of being the one who knows how things should be, as I let go of being the teacher, the rescuer. As a result, my sister, who thought I was a "pain in the ass," can't praise me enough. Today she remarked, "No matter how I've bitched about you in the past, I've always known you'd be there for us, you've always been very supportive of the family." Words that warmed the cockles of my heart. And my mother, who responds to my suggestions with, "Don't tell me what to do, I raised you, you didn't raise me!" seems so much more peaceful. When we crawl into bed at the end of the day, she's been saying, "I don't hug you enough." My brother, who I wouldn't dare tell what to do, has been having conversations with me about alternative health practices, and coaches me in the benefits of Chinese medicine while we test his scrumptious, newly concocted pea soup.
No, it's not Sonoma County and the green, strikingly rich surroundings I've grown to love and call home, and it's not being with the community of people I've grown to cherish and am so at ease with. Instead, it's NYC, and a precious time to learn acceptance, chuckling at my judgments, and discovering how to love and be loved by my family.
