Tag: family relationships

Experiencing Authentic Social Connections

Published on by Gabriel HeartmanLeave a comment

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By Christian Tydeman

Social connections.  We all desire to be a part of something bigger.  Without these connections we feel lost, alone, and scared.  We are naturally social creatures.  Our heart and souls require connectivity for purpose and support.  But the kind of connections we have and make can keep us small or challenge us to be big.  They can serve us or confine us.

Our first experience of this social web is our family.  They leave the biggest imprint on us and this guides us in our formation of future independent connections.  There are school connections, interest connections, work connections, and connections of connections.  Some of us have but a few, others have hundreds (or thousands if you feel a Facebook ‘friend’ is a connection).  

In all of these myriad of bonds, how many are authentic to you?  Why are they there?  Maybe they have a function.  Someone to talk sports with, someone to hear music with, someone to cry with, someone to laugh with.  Maybe you feel obligated because they are family, your “best” friend, or they have no one else to connect with.  How honest can you be with them?  How challenging can they be with you?

For most of my life, a part of me chose the safest connections.  The ones that were least resistive or challenging.  The ones that kept him safe and comfortable.  This part was, and to some degree still is, very much obligated to family connections even if they didn’t resonate with him any longer.  To truly live into my soul experience, I had to temporarily withdraw from these connections.  This was a difficult choice and one that this part of me regrets on some level.  

Magdalene offers me that our social web be created from the inside out.  We must feel ourselves in our loving authenticity and then create bonds that nurture and challenge its growth.  To stay in contact with someone that does not resonate with your higher purpose is not self-loving to you or compassionate to them as you are just enabling their fear of growth and change.

But sometimes we may need to back into these bonds.  Our parts may need to feel them again in relation to how we are now.  We may need to own something that we did to them.  They may own something they didn’t feel before.  New ground may surface or not.  Regardless, we get to feel ourselves again in a new way, in contrast to who we were.  We get to heal our heart and feel our soul journey with more clarity.

And to that, Magadalene says…Amen.  

Visit soulfullheart.com for more articles and information about the SoulFullHeart Way Of Life.

A Son’s Ending, A Man’s Beginning

Published on by Raphael AwenLeave a comment

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Male By Birth; Men By Journey

By Wayne Vriend

I originally wrote the following piece in March, 2010, and published it on a previous blog. I wanted to share it again as healing the wounds between men and their fathers (whether possible in person or in spirit) is so foundational and critical to our healing into authentic male expression.

***

It had been over two and half years and I had not been back since the day of the funeral, until today.

I took myself, my backpack, my umbrella and a piece of plastic to sit on and set myself down, right on top of the grave. I was reminded of the times I was too young to remember of sitting on Dad’s stomach. I felt welcome and belonging here now. I snugged my umbrella over me as the rain was lightly falling.

I unloaded the green stemmed purple crocus potted plant with the fuchsia wrapping, that I had purchased on the way out, in front of the headstone. The light rain was opening their blooms. The colors of it all fit well with the maroon color of the headstone, which I took in for the first time. The front read simply ‘VRIEND,’ and on top ‘Jim Vriend 1934-2007,’ and ‘safe now in the arms of Jesus,’ and ‘Loving husband, father and grandfather.’

I looked at the photo of my dad in his early seventies attached to the wrought iron prop. He had bright blue eyes and a boyish alive playful happiness. Here is where we rested his body, committed it back to the earth, in solemnity, in ritual, with hymns of the church and a homily of remembrance. We all stood that day. Today, I sat down, on the earth, and remained there for the better part of two hours.

My father had attended church every week of his life, and felt a palpable connection to God, and remained his entire life not too far from the safety and comfort of his family upbringing. I’d often chafed with him in my desire and decision to explore beyond the bounds of safety. I’d often tried to be nice and not so antagonistic and hoped in exchange that he’d see my soul for who I am, in the hope I could see more of myself. I always felt crazy for not being able to overcome the wall between us.

Today, however, I felt the wall was dissolved between us, like it had simply never been.

I breathed in and out the incense I had lit that was wafting in my face. I read aloud the words again before me: ‘Safe in the arms of Jesus.’  I said, “Dad, how I longed to feel safe in your arms.”  His pained eyes felt my pain, and bouncing shoulder sobs shook me. My pain mingled with his pain for the joy he missed in not knowing me in this way, and for his not being known by his father in this way.

For the first time, the anguish became ours.

I shared with him a piece of treasured driftwood I brought and a jade stone, both of which reminded me of his love and familiarity for the earth. He accepted them with an ocean of gratitude, and we shared eye to eye tears over the gifts we had not up until now been permitted to give and receive.

The rain subsided along with my tears and I set aside my umbrella and jacket.  I said to the spirit of my father, “Dad, so much of my life, even to this day, has been shaped by the attempt at trying to feel your deep approval, your love, and admiration.”

He paused, and then replied in a cadence and tone that contained the world, “Son, I can tell you with everything that I am now, I have never ever met a man that I esteem higher than you, in fact you are truly my hero.” The genuineness of his heart and words I ingested easily, and my tears now were of deep gratitude.

The differences in our beliefs and choices in so many areas of life did not even require a debriefing here in the domain of heart and spirit where beliefs often only serve as a wall of protection and alienation.

I paused to drink some of the coffee and eat the bar I had brought with me, not wanting the host in him to fuss.

Eventually I said, through tears, “Dad, I’ll be 49 this year. I’m again embracing more change, and letting go of securities. I know I need to keep food on the table, but living for a job, and a mortgage is not what I am here for. I need to find new courage and I want to ask your help. Dad, will you help me?’

I waited until I felt his response and then let my voice carry his voice through mine, “Son, I would be so honored, and I will do everything in my power to show you, to guide you, to cheer you on in the choices you make.” In the tears that wouldn’t stop, I was able to feel some of the reason we’d been so unable to connect in this life and to give way to the connection I’d need with him now.

The coffee was moving through me, and I didn’t think the cemetery workers across the way would have an issue with me taking a side trip to the bushes. I relieved myself and returned and sat down again, digesting all that had moved in a matter of minutes.

My last visit with my father had been in the hospital, with warm smiles, small talk that differed little from any other visit, and no mention of his soon passing. I felt his true joy at seeing me. The young boy in me was struck by the weakness in his body and the bruising on his arms and legs, a sad contrast from the man I had always admired for his strength. Then his tone and focus changed, sitting up in his bed and with fore finger tapping the hospital table like a pulpit, he exclaimed, “I’m not the one who instituted the family,” reminding me what the Bible teaches about family, and referring to my recent distance from family. I knew he meant well, but I felt the gulf between us and our values (since I had left Christianity a few years earlier along with my marriage) as uncrossable. I kept the visit short and we exchanged back tapping hugs, “I love you,” and “I love you too.” And, I left, aching for so much more.

Here though, perched on his grave, there was no awkwardness, no taboo subjects, no inabilities to simply ask for what we wanted from each other, no fear of our angst, no withholding of our forgiveness and our apologies. There was just love that filled the space that gave rise and fall to words to assist the love.

It was evident we had both taken in all we could.

I remembered singing his favorite hymn “Amazing Grace” at the funeral. I sang a few lines now as I gathered up my things and got up. As I took in the scene and caught my breath, I realized that my dad and I had just met for the first time. I said to him, “Yeah, Dad, grace really is amazing.’

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A SoulFullHeart Birthday

Published on by Gabriel HeartmanLeave a comment

By Cristian Tydeman

When I was a kid, my birthday was a day in which, for one 24 hour period, I was the star.  I took center stage and everyone else was my supporting cast.  It felt good to be recognized and acknowledged for just being me.  So much so, that I remember telling people it was my birthday, just to receive those accolades.  A cheesy grin would be painted on my face.  “If it could only be like that every day, for everyone,” says my young Christopher part.  Words of angelic desire, from the lips of a child.

As I got older, the feeling around my birthday was that it was “just another day”.  I appreciated the phone calls, the cards, and the gifts, but somehow the magic just wasn’t there anymore.  Or I just couldn’t let it in.  The focus of the birthday became the number and not the pats on the back and the sweet cards from my daughter.  Somewhere along the way, I didn’t feel I was worth it.  Or at least a part of me didn’t.

This is hitting me pretty hard in the moment.  This feeling that, out of all the days during my life, a part of me couldn’t let in love for that ONE day.  A part of me couldn’t enjoy the beauty and joy around him.  The same letting in that I allowed as a child.  I had become desensitized to my own heart.

But this birthday was different than any other.  Today I let in the love from those that I love the most.  So much so, I found myself crying in the middle of my classroom as I read emails from my new SoulFullHeart family.  My young Christopher, wanting so desperately to be with them and eat cake and ice cream and be sung to.  “No gifts, Cristian, just love, please,” is the only thing he can say with tears in his eyes.

The tears are of longing and ache to be there with them, but also of letting go.  Letting go of the family he used to spend his birthdays with.  The birth family where the birthday memories began.  Yeah, we got cards and a gift from them.  There is love behind them that we acknowledge and are grateful for.  But it is not the “love” that neither I nor he desire.  It is a “love” for an old me.  The sentiment being sent was that “no matter who you are we still love you.”  It seems like a sweet gesture, but that is not good enough anymore.  I am not swayed by guilt anymore.  I want a family who will feel me AND my parts. I want a family who will shower my young Christopher with love and praise.  I want a family who will lovingly challenge us without the bite of criticism, judgment, or faithlessness.  I want a family who I have a common ground with.  A family we can learn from and respect by their own example.  I choose a SoulFullHeart family.

I am grateful for all my birth family provided for me.  They are why I am here, becoming who I am.  I drew them for a reason, and my time with them has been completed, at least for the short term.  If they so choose to go into their own hearts, and heal their own shadow, I would be there greeting them with open arms.  Until then, this may be my last birthday in contact with them.  Hence, the tears.

On the flip side, there is newness.  A re-birth, if you will.  The uncovering and discovering of the REAL me.  The ME that has been repressed and suppressed for far too long.  The ME that is the head of this household I call my SFH Self.  The ME that is the space-holder and lover of all my parts, especially my dearest Christopher.  They have a new father to lean into.  A new family to be supported and guided by.  As for me, I have a new love blossoming and a new NOW to create with her.  I have a rekindled love affair with the Divine in all Her beauty and grace.

Hello everyone.  Today is my first birthday and my name is Cristian.

Note from Jillian: I made this photo collage for Cristian to celebrate the day of his birth and his emerging birth into himself. Seemed appropriate for this post.:)

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Offering An End To Seeking Approval From Family

Published on by Kasha Rosa3 Comments

By Kathleen Calder

One of the hardest things to digest is disconnect from family. It’s not a secret that in North America and some other cultures as well there is a huge emphasis on what essentially boils down to “staying together for the kids”. The term “kids”, in the case of this writing of mine today, refers mostly to the young parts within each of us. I have put myself into some very dishonest places within my family for the sake of keeping everything peaceful and not causing any sort of upset. My feeling about doing this is that it has led me to a sort of “caretaker” role and actually created a lot of co-dependency between myself and other family members. Likewise, I have been the one on the receiving end of the caretaking and as a result I have felt such an intense pull to find approval with family members that aren’t even my birth mom.

The question I’m exploring today is, what is it about our need for “mom’s approval” that keeps us clinging to unhealthy relationships? It’s easy enough to try and take this on a purely psychological trajectory, but I’d like to actually explore this in a SoulFullHeart (heart-based) kind of way.

Since realizing all of the unhealthy aspects of my relationship with my own mother a number of months ago, I have also noticed the unhealthy ways in which I have tried to let others in as surrogate moms, even people the same age as me, at times. It’s funny how the same personality traits appear in just about every woman who tries to mother me in some way…right down to the things they choose to worry about (including me). This has led to me seeking approval from them subconsciously. If I wasn’t in constant contact with my young parts, I wouldn’t be able to put my finger on why  I’m feeling triggered in a given moment or what it is about someone that seems to rub me the wrong way. When unhealthy relationship pieces have been felt out once, they have been realized by your consciousness and that makes it easier to recognize and take note when the same circumstances happen again. Without this mechanism in place, it would be that much harder for me to know how to cope with certain people that I draw into my life.

The danger with choosing to separate from your family, especially your mother, is that your young parts will draw in others to substitute for them in your life if you aren’t in active dialogue and feeling with them. When I first asked my mother for space I didn’t do this actively enough. Sure, I already had a relationship with my young parts that was juicy and beautiful, but I didn’t work diligently enough at the time to keep feeling into their deepening reactions to the “mom” situation. As a result I drew a lot of substitute caretakers who would speak to and treat me as if I was my young parts. They had a hard time seeing me as an autonomous young adult and especially had a hard time taking in that I was 25 years old and not still in my teenage years or even my early 20’s.

Realizing this now, I feel more compassionate and appreciative towards them and their efforts to love me the only way they knew how…which happens to be the same reasons why I have had to ask my mom to not be in relationship with me, at least until she can start to show up for herself and her own young parts so that I no longer feel like I have to. The same goes for the rest of my family. I feel I have more than done my part with regards to uncovering a more adult, heart-centred me that can be in deep, vulnerable, heart-based relationships with other adult, heart-centred selves. Of course I am still working this piece, and, you know what? Asking for sovereignty from my family and even being as forthright as I’m being in this writing is all evidence of that.

I can sense how this could easily cause uproar with moms everywhere. I do not mean any disrespect to the role of “mother”. I am very grateful for where my relationship with my mom has led me, even if it has resulted in fallout. None of this has been easy for me to take in and digest and I want to express that from the bottom of my heart. I simply had to feel my way into leaving the nest completely and I know that despite protestation from a part or parts of you, somewhere within you that need of mine will land. We have all felt it or will feel it eventually in some way, shape or form whether it’s in relationship to your immediate family or even your work family. You have my love, support and respect for whatever you sovereignly decide to do when these feelings come up for you on your own journey.

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Heart-To-Heart Knowing

Published on by Kasha Rosa2 Comments

By Katie Calder

I invite you to take a moment and think about this: when was the last time that you managed to sit across from someone and feel into knowing them, to know their heart and how it operates, maybe even how and why it resonates with yours?

We assume we know someone because we grew up with them in our family or they’ve been our friend for years…but how often have we said once emotions are heightened, “wow, I don’t actually know this person at all”. I offer from my own heart-centered feelings that we go through our lives only thinking that we know someone. If we lived in our hearts we would feel the need to feel their hearts on a deeper level that transcends simply knowing facts or stories about those in our lives.

The majority of my family only knows stories about me. The key word is “know”…not “feel”. I imagine that if they allowed themselves to “feel” stories about me instead they would receive a lot more information about who I am than they have up until now. I do not fault them for their error for I’ve done the same to them. There are a lot of wounds that I still feel within my relationship to them that keep parts of me from wanting to reach out and offer this new way of being together and getting to know each other all over again on a much deeper level. A part of me feels that she does want me to waste any energy on them, for they wouldn’t try to do the same for me. There is a lot of assumption that they won’t “get it” and unfortunately I do feel that she is right…at least for now.

When I lost my father in January of 2011, it sent a huge ripple through my family and therefore through my life. It was my first year living in Vancouver and I had to promptly return to Ontario for a couple of weeks to be with my family. Thinking back on it now, the best and worst moments I had, happened when I could sit and cry and curse as loudly as I wished to a loving cousin who seems to “get me” the most. Being allowed to be fully in an emotion, no matter what the cause is a huge gift and one that we do not offer each other often enough…and seldom ever outside of crisis situations like the loss of a friend or family member.  What I realize now that I have been on my own SFH journey, is that one of the greatest gifts we could ever give another human being is to sit and be with them in vulnerability and emotion, no matter how raw the experience. If only I had been doing this “parts” work by then, I would have taken the time to mourn with each of my realized parts and helped them through it while no one else in my family could. Perhaps I still need to do that. In fact, I feel I should. There are many unresolved and unhealed aspects of my relationship with my father and they all shake and quiver in response to that in their own way.

The truth is, not allowing each other to live heart-centred and feeling-based lives robs each of us of a huge gift – truth and authenticity. I feel it is virtually impossible to step into your best, fully-realized self unless your feelings are felt out by those who love you. How can one grow into the magnificent human being they are meant to become if they are constantly emotionally neglected? It is like ignoring a child for most of their child-years and expecting them to still grow into fully-functioning adults with no major social or self-esteem issues. We need to stop telling people who are “depressed” that they need to medicate in order to feel better. We need to stop telling people that reframing their thinking and becoming more “positive” is the answer. Positivity will come and depression will be relieved with love, care and empathy. Unfortunately it seems that in a society that doesn’t believe in processes and allowing things to take time in order to grow and change properly, we will always be looking for a the “quick fixes” like meds and turning your thoughts around, even at the protestation of your parts that need to be held and felt before they can feel better.

The idea of leading with vulnerability is a daunting one and I can tell you from personal experience that it is one of the most difficult things to do. I’m still getting the hang of it and it’s definitely not something we are meant to one day do perfectly, of course. Or could it be that this is one of those many instances where it’s appropriate to say that  doing it imperfectly in fact means that you are doing it perfectly after all? I like that idea.

In love, vulnerability and support for your own SFH journey,

~ Katie

Visit soulfullheart.com for more articles and information about the SoulFullHeart healing process.