Unbecoming The First Teacher

My icy fade. The window is black. The star's light gaze is to save me from the pain of going insane in aloneness. No level of awokeness can restore me to eternal bliss amidst the suffering and the plight amongst the addict generation. I sink, I sink, I sink into the affirmation of the 3 c's. I didn't cause it. I can't control it. I can't cure it.

My son is drowning and I can't save him from the opiate's reign.

It's the last "c" of the 3c's that gets me. I've always been able to help someone rise above their impermeable plight of pain. The core of who I defined myself to be as a healer and a teacher has no place in parenthood in this epidemic. I am not allowed to dream a life for my son. He has to dream his own. I cannot take pride in his achievements because pride is a personal feat that is attained from one's ability to overcome what they once didn't think was necessary, but transmuted as it became necessary to do so.

So I began to question my role as a parent and what my position is in my son's reality. What is it that I am supposed to be for him? I hear this inner voice say to me "do not get emotionally attached to the outcome of your children's experiences. Children are here to experience life just like you. Their Self (higher power) is in control of their life lessons. Life's lessons (the friend) can bring joy and pain, but it is a CHOICE (an expression of life force) they have to make. You can observe, make suggestions, and show them their strengths and the possibilities of who they can become."

That's easier said than done. This is the role of the unbecome. I may not like it, but what I thought is GONE. Completely gone. The more I try to get that old ideal of parenting back the more I experience the numb. I sit here with my Self (higher power) as I transition into the transformation of my mind, relinquishing outdated conditions, waiting to see what comes forth for me. If I evolve my purpose into something greater then maybe his (my son's) greatness he will see and the other things that he could be. I can't even form a plan for that to happen. So I just sit here processing, navigating, redirecting my emotions, my mind, my being, allowing what I need to be to come forth naturally. Doing different things, taking different approaches, letting go of anything mediocre, facing my darkest side, confronting my personal demons like never before. I'm in the depths of my soul. If ever a child could change your life, this is it. Perhaps that is his purpose: to change my life some more, going beyond the conditioning of what I thought parenting could be. It's more like soul to soul because obviously there is a contract we have with each other's soul to do something great enough that it propels us into the depths of our ugly. I don't mean just to sit in our ugly but to confront it with all of our might and our strength and with the force of nature to move with the ethers and form primordial partnerships to restore balance.

The overall message: it's not supposed to end here. something greater can be born from the plight of suffering. It can be a manifestation of our truths to bring forward something new; a new way of thinking and being; a form of enlightenment; a form of wholeness. Never is it supposed to just end in pain. Make it count for something.