Yesterday, my daughter had another preteen angst moment, where everything in the world was bitter to and against her, but somehow she listened to the small still voice inside and asked to have what we call in our family a heart talk.
Sitting across from her I could hear deep projection, accusations, blame, and victim stances…all based on a fundamental fear of not being enough. Heavy. But what I saw, too, was Love Itself sitting there beaming her bright light as she navigated her own way through the darkness of her fears trying to get closer to me, and herself.
The light may have only been flicker to her, blown around by the winds of “being right”, but by being witnessed by my loving, BECAUSE I could see Love she was able to see it as a lifeline to grab a hold of as she pulled her way into her own full light again.
My friends, it wasn’t easy. My own ego gets in the way. I get triggered by my own childhood wounds of not being seen, heard, understood, enough. And they can sometimes be bigger than my ability to see beyond them in that moment.
But sometimes the one instance of standing aside from these wounds, however briefly, allows me to open the portal to possibility where she and I can both meet.