Not A Smooth Landing But Something Else by SA RA

i’ve spent the recent months preparing for a Smooth Landing (repeating this like a mantra to myself) as i was thickly involved in the bureaucratic emotional physical process of uprooting my life in Berlin to replant myself in LA. part of the Smooth Landing plan would entail a series of stopovers first in Portland to Mt. Shasta to Sacramento before entering LA. i imagined Pearl the Poodle and myself shaking off grey berlin chilliness to land on fertile USA soil queuing in the “Citizens” line, cruising through lush green oregon landscape in a cute rental car snacking on innovative vegan delights to crystal foraging and asanas on Mt. Shasta then restful battery recharge stopover in Sac where the fridge is abundant with mom’s shopping excursions from korean supermarket and Costco then driving down towards Where the Sun Is Golden to finally enter LA. yes some of those stuff did indeed happen, but also so much more. on an emotional level, this journey has been the complete opposite of Smooth Landing. it has felt more like a really jagged turbulent rocky hungover intern pilot landing with fearful grasping of oxygen masks and crawls towards Emergency Exit doors. the path was laden with beautiful surprises and synchronicities, but the most deeply felt experience was coming back to the parents house, which i see now as the necessary kickoff in entering the next phase of Life, as the point symbolizing where i come from &where i depart from.

as soon as i enter the parental portal, i sense mom’s energy field feeling like the equivalent of a rabies infected pitbull even cesar milan would shudder at. something heavily dark has been brewing in the last months since i’ve seen her, during core family restructuring in the birth of my nephew and marriage of sister suyun and her partner. we’re sitting having lunch and i’m trying my best to calmly chew n swallow the brown rice with steamed spinach as she fires off insults, which pretty much comes down to ‘everyone is an inconsiderate asshole, and now even my daughters are too.’  underneath the rage of betrayal by everyone and everything being wrong with everyone, there is an extremely neglected rejected hurt sad child inside of her that is hiding suffocating in some dark corner deep down in the cellar, who has never been allowed to be seen or heard. the rage is a thin veneer covering this deep well of despair. it’s been the only way she knows of dealing with the child/vulnerability, this hurt self’s existence has perhaps never consciously been acknowledged and received from where she is. but it’s there, and the rage is her cry for recognition that isn’t getting recognized, that she continues on to feel that her sacrifice has been to no avail, and she is desperately hurting from lack of care. i’ve been a witness to her blame and shame on anyone who knocks on the cellar door awakening this dormant pain, as though they are the reason/cause for the pain, not knowing that the pain is only waiting for HER to finally break open the door rush down the steps to be seen held rescued brought upstairs . something i say to her now tears open a tiny seam into the Upside Down under place, it’s finally entered deeper now beyond the jurisdiction of the pitbull, and she completely loses it and breaks down. i’ve never seen my mom break down, cry, ever. i got to witness for a moment the true state of her wounded child being. one of the most harrowing moments in my life. i saw in her face a little 5 year old girl, so scared, beyond rejected forlorn hurt. Pure Pain in the deeply encrusted belief that she is unloved, insignificant, uncared for, that she doesnt matter to anyone, left for dead. pretty much the same pain/childbody that has transferred over to me that i recognize now crystal clear. and as the tenderness of recognition in our mutuality starts to arise within me, in the very next moment the pitbull fiercely charges back. HOW DARE YOU provoke me to this degree?!!?!! – mom the pitbull turned now into a scene from The Exorcist- just in time for halloween -snarling and hissing- in a demonic rage and desperate attempt to erase the moment of vulnerability and exposure as quickly as possible. thankfully sister suyun had the other day gifted me a pearly iridescent lemurian high vibration full body energy shield exclusively for Home Wear that gives HD clarity and protection, so i was completely not taking the bait with the insults and accusations being hurled at me. nonetheless i was still pretty shaken up more at seeing the true state of her hurt self. i left to take Pearl the Poodle to her grooming appointment. it would take a while since she’s got a lot of matted fur underneath so i go for a walk on the trail nearby – and stumble upon – just what i need – a little meadow with a chirping bluejay beside the sparkling American River. EXHALE.

what i am processing now from this big chunk of Parent-Child-Self Integration Opportunity can be very certainly wittled down at its core essence to, a matter of SPACE. giving and holding space for difficult feelings to exist and to be expressed, without judgment. widening oneself to be expansive as sky to allow and include all things. maybe this is what it is to truly love someone, including your own self. my whole life i have abhorred and shuddered and resisted this very angry-blamey expression of mom. because it’s like living next to a toxin dump factory, which as a child i felt powerless to do anything about except breathe it allllll in and get really down n low with her. but at some critical differentiation points, i wished to completely unlink myself from all of that. i then disallowed these feelings from having their own space to just Be. to the extreme degree that i suppress anger, and have always tried to maintain an appearance on the surface in a state of total cool equilibrium even if what’s happening beneath is a whole loud symphonic caucophony of ferocious rabid jungle fevered emotions. this trip home i feel i have been Gifted the experience of witnessing my own strength in keeping my Witness Perspective with mom in full effect, and see what is really going on underneath – stepping outside my 3d character Daughter. instead of wanting to defend myself from what she’s expressing or criticize the ‘unconsciousness’ which i now see as a form of resistance and unconsciousness in itself, i instead just felt pure empathetic sorrow. sorrow for the unseen child self. in her, in me. sorry that i rebuked the face of it, and made it wrong.  i connected with my inner child deeper than i ever have through this experience, and it took me to hers, and im sure it is also connecting me to her mother’s. the unloved pieces of ourselves passed down through generations. i want to stop all of that and reclaim all of it.

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