Ever since I was little I not only knew, but I wholeheartedly believed, that we make things happen. By aligning our thoughts and energy with our most craved desires. Some call it wishful thinking. Others call it stubbornness. I call it logic.
Sitting in the bedroom I had just packed into my tiny car, ready to leave home for good, I stared out at the golden sunlight pouring in and touching everything.
As my fingers traced over the keys on the grey cordless phone, I realised that I would never sit in this room again. Instead of sadness, relief washed over me as an invisible weight lifted from my shoulders.
I went down the stairs, locked the door and I never looked back.
So many events shaped my early childhood and adolescence:
The premature death of my mother when I was 14 months old.
The domino effects of my father’s grief on our family.
His heartbreaking second marriage.
A verbally, physically and mentally abusive stepmother.
My own issues trusting women stemming from the tension between my stepmother and I.
Boys that were so wrong for me.
Friends that were so right for me.
The horrendous and debilitating but well concealed anxiety that followed.
And while my early life sounds dark and heavy, most of it was good.
I was lucky enough to be raised by two extremely kind, generous and warm-hearted people.
My grandparents are my heroes.
My grandmother quit her job to raise me, a gesture I can never repay. My grandfather picked me up from school every day, half an hour early so he could nab the prime parking spot so I’d be sure to see him. I can still see his sky blue Ford Falcon.
It would seem the universe also dabbles its cosmic hand in real estate. One of the most beautifully serendipitous things about my childhood is that both sets of my grandparents lived across the street from each other.
I relished the freedom of spending the afternoon picking vegetables with my dad’s parents and then popping over the road to watch ‘Days of our Lives’ with my mum’s mum while my Nonno would make wine in his cellar.
I was happy, safe, loved and held.
I felt just the way a child should, until my stepmother would pick me up to take me home.
Usually her interrogation would begin before we’d even left my grandparents’ driveway and continued until she’d parked in ours. There were scowls through dinner, ignored questions,
eye rolls, barked demands, empty threats and if my father came to my defence: arguing.
What mentally kept me from shutting off was the warm afterglow of how I felt most of the time; happy. My thoughts would wander back to how I felt with my friends at school and with my grandparents after school.
And my malleable young mind started ticking over.
“What if I could feel good all the time?”
“What if I could shield myself from other people’s words?”
“What if I could get out of here and do what makes me happy?”
The more I envisioned all the answers I could create, the stepping-stones leading me to them began ‘magically’ landing in my path.
I practiced closing out ‘external influence’ and zeroing in on my thoughts and feelings.
I allowed them to guide me, used them to navigate home situations and even relied on them so much that I began speaking less and listening in more.
Silence truly is golden.
Back to that afternoon in my bedroom: the relief and the smile on my face were from proud acknowledgment of where I’d come from. The scene I’d always held firm in my mind as a girl was of me walking away from my abusive and uninspiring home life.
Yes, my heart ached for my grief-stricken father, a truly good man who will never be the same. I felt pangs of regret for my young stepsister, knowing that our relationship was coming to a close for now.
But as my feet moved down the stairs my posture shifted and I felt whole.
I deserved better, I wanted more from life and I was going out to get it.
My stories, particularly from those darker periods, are fragments of my past that I keep close to my chest. I still swing between wanting to lay them bare and giving in to the intense fear of vulnerability.
However, there has been one incredibly transformational event that has changed me more than any of those stories ever will, and it continues to do so. Motherhood.
Mothering a small human when you are in a sense ‘motherless’ is indescribably lonely yet liberating in a weird way. I don’t have her on speed dial to answer my stupid baby-related questions and there’s nothing in my memory bank to fall back on. She left long before she could make any deposits there. Mothering while motherless forces me to embrace the less pretty parts of myself in my quest to become lighter, to expand and evolve.
As my son approached 14 months, the age I was when my mum died, I started questioning my own mortality out of sheer paranoia. A clear sign that I have a lot of inner work to do.
My strength when it comes to mothering is this: I follow my feelings in the moment, and in retrospect I realise this has always been my strength.
As I navigate the nurturing and healing of the still raw and tender parts of myself, I’m calling on the same wholehearted belief I had as a child: we make things happen.
That long-held belief has given rise to a new idea that allows me to do the ‘inner work’ while sharing all of my findings here because I also know this to be true: “We best teach what we most need to learn”. ~Pema Chodron.
The ALIGNMENT Project is my newest and most sacred commitment to myself.
A means to share the enlightening and useful by-products of my ‘inner work’ of which transparency, vulnerability and connection are the foundations.
Through the project I’ll be sharing:
- New guidance tools that I’m using.
- Resources that are worth the investment.
- As much understanding as I can give of how our energy shapes us.
- Insight into how being in alignment creates opportunities to expand on all levels.
I’ve shared my guiding word of the week for a little while on Instagram and I’m chuffed to report they’re getting some beautiful engagement.
Come follow along, and let me know if you choose a weekly word of your own. If you’ve read on this far, thank you. I appreciate you.
There so much goodness to come, for everyone.If you have any alignment tips or tools, I’d LOVE for you to share them with me in the comments or flick me an email.
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