The Contingency Plan

I feel suffocated right now, sitting in my office. Surrounded by colleagues who are being productive and talking to each other and ticking things off their ‘to do’ list. Their lives progress and achieve positive things while I sit in the midst of a different vortex, focusing on my breath and the rage that bubbles, screams and plays with my despondency.

The weight of being the bigger person presses against me today. It’s starting to unravel me and I’m fearful that people like Luc are waiting, eager to gather up the wool and spin their own story about me. One that isn’t me at all. One that doesn’t fit.

Luc’s mother has insensitively started to send me and K ‘funny’ emails. I hate being on the same email list as her. I hate leaving my son in her care. I hate how he talks about her. I hate how she has a distortion of what happened between me and Luc. How she tells me that I have to improve communication with him – how can I tell myself that she’s pregnant? Or that Luc has started full time work when he didn’t even confirm that he’s been out of work for the last five months?

I hate how he’s still in my life and that I cannot ignore or get rid of him. And that I SHOULD, as a good mother, leave my opinions about him as far away from his son as possible so they can determine their relationship independent of me.

It weighs upon me. And I long for surrender.

I just read some Panda Zen book to the boys last night: the little boy went to visit the Giant Panda for the day and to play in his pool. However, the little boy was irrate with his bossy older brother. So, each additional panel showed the boy and the panda doing terrific things together as the boy discussed his anger at his brother.

At the end of the day, with the boy still expressing his anger, the Panda wisely asked: "Yes, but did you notice the fun we had together today?"

I have gaping holes in my memory of C growing uo, holes I suppose that were eaten by anger. :-(