Talking Out Loud
This first morning of spring, as I walked along a mountain trail, admiring the black-eyed-susans flowering prolifically down the hills, I began to talk out loud. Luckily, there was no one else about, so I felt free to speak as loudly as I wanted. It went something like this:
“I am so disappointed. I can’t get through to my son, no matter what I do. He just won’t change his stance and he has chosen to push me away.
God – if there is a God, an Intelligence, a Positive Energy Being – if you can hear me, please help my son. I’ve been praying for healing – for myself, for him and for our relationship. Wouldn’t that be the best for him, for all of us? Have all my prayers just turned into cosmic dust?
I can’t make sense of any of this. How did a sweet, kind boy turn into a such a volatile, angry man? What happened?
I don’t want to carry this around anymore. I’m ‘sick and tired of being sick and tired.’
I am turning my son over to you. Please receive him. Help him. Show him a better way, a higher road and give him strong legs to travel it. Point him to a map and lead him to a more enlightened way of living, of thinking and behaving. Whisper in his ear and remind him about kindness.
I release him to you. Fold him into your arms, love him and keep him safe, because I can no longer bear the weight of missing the son I once knew.”
Maybe the sky and the black-eyed-susans were my only witnesses this morning, but I sent my prayer on swift wings and the pain in my heart has abated.