When our family of four members lived together,
I was such a handful. I gave myself a lot of resistance to being myself.
My mother would always say to me,
“Why don’t you be honest with yourself?”
I didn’t get what she was talking about.
- Trying to fit in
- Pleasing others, including my parents
- Taking it out on them, especially my mother
It felt like trying to contain the raging sea within 24/7.
Now all of the four are living in their own ways.
I’m proudly selfish enough to follow my inner guidance to the unknown, after a series of illnesses and recoveries, by releasing what doesn’t serve me anymore from inside out.
My brother is selfish enough to leave the old nest and build his family with his wife.
My mother is selfish enough to choose Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s to receive unconditional care from my father and me, to whom she had given her everything, when he and I were utterly sick in different periods of our lives.
My father is selfish enough to allow himself to love his wife without feeling guilty anymore and to feel there’s more to life than what’s visible to our physical eyes.
He even went on to comment on a short clip from Facebook that I sent him; of a little bird being born,
“Thank you for sending such an incredible clip; the mystery of life.”
Which was totally unexpected from him, who used to be a Mr. “I-don’t-believe-anything-but-what-I see-with-my-eyes.” He rose above his “typical opinionated father-ness” in his 80s after his period of the raging sea.
That comment alone confirmed that nothing I desire is upstream, but downstream; easy and light, not the result of the endless hard work or struggle.
I realize a piece of my ever-evolving dream moment by moment by being proudly selfish to follow the path of least resistance.