The healing journey of a widowed, unschooling badass in Delaware.
Flipping through my Four Agreements card deck I found my self saying, “Yep. Yep. Yep.” and tossing cards into a small pile.
All of them guide me to let go of self conciousness about appearances, concerns over past mistakes, and fear of my own bold way of loving.
Love has yet to steer me wrong.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
I wrote this to a special person who is currently in a rehabilitation center. I realized I was also writing to myself and all of us.
You’re in my heart and in my prayers, brother. I don’t have anything easy to write. It is time for you to take 100% responsibility for everything in your life. It is going to be long and hard and it has to be every day and it will suck. I was sober for more than two months before I started to accept how deep my problems went. Maybe the scariest thing to realize is that the pit is bottomless. There is no limit to human depravity and we each have that hole in us.
Right now you have a gift of time. Take every moment you can to feel the pain, sadness, anger, loss, regret, guilt, shame, ALL OF THE SHIT. Write about it, talk about it, think, pray, and meditate on it. Get humble and ask for help. You have fucked things up and have not fixed them. I went to AA meetings and therapy at least weekly and prayed to God every day. I still pray for patience, guidance, strength, wisdom, clarity, and love and I receive these gifts every day.
Another tough thing to realize is that this is all about you. You have to care for you. Do not waste this time away from your friends and family. Discover your patterns, your weaknesses, and your traumas and decide if you will continue to fail at knowing and mastering yourself, or if you are ready to own your Self and become your own master.
Use every resource they have there. Do every exercise, no matter how silly. Listen to people and NEVER believe that you AREN’T THAT BAD. We all are. We all have triggers that could create Hell on Earth. To survive is to constantly know where the beast is inside and how strong it is.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
I spent the day focusing on kindness and connection for and with my children. It went beautifully as we tried new things and visited new places.
We had a mini movie night (1.5 movies, to be exact) and my older son was in tears at bedtime. Movie night reminds him of mom. Me too. He’s scared about being different and not fitting in. Crap, I remember that feeling like, oh yeah, that was yesterday. He was worried that he hasn’t been kind. Me too.
I talked about how great it is to be different and that it brings challenges for finding people who can understand you enough to accept you. I told him that when you find those people it can be the most rewarding experience because they’ll be “different” in their own ways.
His mom understood him. She understood me. We’ve all struggled having lost a person who knew us so well. I’ve got advantages as an adult, I can get online and search out folks with common interests and I can go explore the world to find new people. My children have advantages as well, they get to meet and interact with a wider variety of people than most children. But they’re only just discovering their Selves, and they don’t have the fallback of two parents who get them.
I reminded him of the people we’ve met who have understood us and how awesome that has been. He’s got friends who have lost a parent and buddies who are wildly diverse in their talents and interests. I explained how all relationships end, that it’s okay if someone is only in his life for a short time if that time is good.
I manifested a deeper connection with my children today and it came to be. It didn’t come without obstacles, but the really good stuff never does.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.”
It’s been a year since I wrote for 30 consecutive days about positive parenting. I’ve listened to podcasts, read books, and, just this afternoon, consulted with some of the best parents I know.
And I lost my shit and yelled at my sons tonight.
I was in the bathroom reflecting on how well things were working out when my younger son came in without permission. I hadn’t even shut the door, but I could not handle the intrusion. Cursing and stomping and demanding respect, I yelled at my older son for no damn reason at all.
I closed myself in my room and one minute didn’t pass before I realized I had been taking things personally all day. Don Miguel Ruiz even posted about this Agreement today.
“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. That was all about me, none of it is your fault.”
There’s only forward. We sleep tonight and have something to share with the therapist tomorrow. We get back to being loving and amazing. We get back to what we do best.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
I’m probably at my worst when plans are disrupted. It’s why I purposefully leave lots of time for everything I do and like to have a pocket full of backup options.
Today’s disruptions are complicated by my anxiety over what it means to be a single dad. I know I need an adult life that is separate from my sons, if only for the fact that it makes me a more complete model of self-care for them. More important is actually taking care of myself. Balancing that against being the sole caregiver of two amazing souls can bend me in half.
I’m letting go of the expectations I put on myself. Maybe the son who was in tears about missing his mom’s touch and had his first fearful episode of sleep walking doesn’t have to go to church today.
I’m replacing fear with love.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
David Bowie has been playing on life’s jukebox since the Labyrinth’s Fire Gang gave my eight-year-old self nightmares.
By high school I was hanging out with the drama kids, singing “Magic Dance.” I was also in Poetry Club writing my own versions of Nine Inch Nails’ songs, so when Bowie toured with NIN in ’95, I was there. “The Hearts Filthy Lesson,” had just hit MTV and it was intensely dark. I put on some sort of black t-shirt and made my way to a muddy hill in a Camden, NJ, amphitheater.
At 16, I had no appreciation for the moment or the performances. The hill had turned into a slip ‘n slide and I was goofing with the goths. Fortunately, I had my head in the right place for NIN and Bowie playing “Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)” together. That, I will never forget (nor the dirt-covered goth girl who pinned me down for a kiss at the bottom of a wicked slide).
I went on to see him at the Roseland in NYC (a show just for BowieNet subscribers), Moby’s Area2 festival (there was a cosplay Jared, but still no Labyrinth tunes performed), and the Tower Theater in Philly (the closing lyric, “Ziggy played guitar…” still holds on to my auditory nerve center).
Bowie had virtually quit touring when I met Mary. We were at Lollapalooza in Chicago when The Raconteurs revived a lackluster set by playing “It Ain’t Easy.”
I was mostly hands-off when it came to wedding plans, but I had a couple requests. One, that her dress show off her “shoulders and boobs” (direct quote). Two, that “Rock ‘N’ Roll With Me” be our song.
—
“Oh, when you rock and roll with me
There’s no one else I’d rather be
Nobody here can do it for me
When you rock and roll with me
When you rock and roll, when you rock and roll with me
No one else I’d rather, I’d rather be
Nobody here can do it for me
I’m in tears, I’m in tears
When you rock and roll with me”
—
For a marriage that involved so few tears, yet lead to so many, this song has come to mean almost too much.
Today I reflect on “Nobody here can do it for me.” I’ve learned the truth that self-love is a connection with the internal divine. There is an infinite engine of Love. I call it God. You can glimpse it in others, feel the radiance of it, but direct access is found only inside one’s own soul. Only once you’ve done that can you really share in the warmth of another’s love.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
My late wife visited me the other morning.
I was writing her a letter. I was feeling guilty about opening my heart. I felt the sadness that lies underneath every blessing. I turned into the pain and opened myself to it. Then is stopped. Mary was there behind me, enveloping me in a protective cover. She was keeping the sadness out.
I wrote this.
The shield dissolved and I was left alone with my pain.
Mary was a nurturer and a protector. I crave that attention at times, but I had to let her go. I had to surrender to those feelings because that was my present.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
I rarely bribe my sons and I rarely reward them for compliance or expected achievements. A learning lifestyle doesn’t work with external rewards. Learning only becomes its own motivator when the rewards are intrinsic, when one can see the fruits of one’s efforts ripen.
Home education, marriage, and community service have taught me a lot about unexpected and long-awaited rewards. I can’t think of any of the miraculous moments I’ve been blessed with as being expected. The surprises at surprising times are the best.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
Kids without a dad, kids without a mom. Those are nightmares. The kind of nightmares that almost no one wants to get close to. The kind of nightmares that will crawl into your bed and poison all the comfortable parts of your life.
When you’re living one of those nightmares you don’t get to keep your distance. There’s hardly a moment of your life that doesn’t remind you what you’ve lost.
The only way out is to own the nightmare and use words, thoughts, and actions to transform it into a dream. Creating the right words can slowly turn the horror into a source of hope and love. Not just for yourself, but for those around you.
It is constant work. Even the most mundane taste of sadness (or happiness) can unleash the beast of grief. I have come to look for these moments, sense the sadness and dive in, looking to make something beautiful.
It means seeking out the uncomfortable and finding its power. You take the power by putting it into your own words. The uncomfortable doesn’t just become bearable. You master it and add it to your dream-making toolset.
Tragedy has blessed me with the power to turn nightmares into dreams, to face the dark with the knowledge that therein lies the power to create Heaven on Earth.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason
Today’s plan dissolved. I refreshed with some yoga and took the day into my own hands.
I found my flow. I moved from moment to moment. I hiked, sat, talked, hiked some more, talked a lot more, and ate ice cream covered in espresso.
The day dissolved into beautiful moments. I was myself, I was present.
It was the perfect close to a year that has seen me increasingly becoming my authentic self.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason